In the wake of a deadly 1,000-year flood, this West Virginia town is rewriting its story with compassion and skill—and a little help from its friends.
Photo Above: WSS’s reviving Main Street is a beautiful walk.
Photos Courtesy of Joan Vannorsdall.
It was national news, the West Virginia flood of June 23, 2016. In White Sulphur Springs, more than eight inches of rain fell in 24 hours, and Howard Creek—which runs through the center of town—rose fast and ran hard. Houses were torn off their foundations, cars washed away, street pavement folded like tissue paper in huge stacks. Part of Main Street was under water; some residents were without power for a week.
That day, eight White Sulphur Springs residents died.
How does a mountain town of 2,300 get back on its feet in the wake of such devastation? After spending some time in White Sulphur Springs, I’m pretty certain that the answer has a lot to do with down-deep determination and strong leadership…coupled with a grounded love of place and a strong show of human kindness.
“I’d just brought my wife home from the hospital when the heavy rain got serious,” then-mayor Lloyd Haynes says. “I was driving to the drug store to get her medications, and it became clear the floodwaters were rising fast. I turned around and went back home.”
(Haynes calls the flood “a double whammy” for him: in addition to dealing with the raging flood and its aftermath, his wife of 50 years died two days later.)
“After the flood receded, myself and some of my employees got together,” Haynes says. “We figured we could sit down, decide what to do, and then go do it—or we could just sit. So we rolled up our sleeves and figured out how to get out of this mess.
“FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Authority) came in right away. We knew that we needed assistance dealing with a federal agency—so with help from the Greenbrier management, we brought in a consultant so we’d understand how to work with FEMA.”
“The consultant was crucial in our success working with them,” says current Mayor Bruce Bowling. “The big thing we learned was that everything we did had to be thoroughly documented.”
“The people of White Sulphur came out in droves to help,” says Haynes (who’s now the city manager). “Folks brought their grills downtown, and people brought the food from their thawing freezers and refrigerators to share.”
“We’re in a unique situation,” Mayor Bowling says. “The folks who own second homes up at the Greenbrier Sporting Club went to bat for this town: They donated a lot of money to bring back downtown and build houses. Through word of mouth, they spread the word in their networks—they were incredibly generous.”
(An aside: Standing at the western edge of White Sulphur Springs, the Greenbrier Resort is a centuries-long story worth knowing. For the most comprehensive telling, pick up historian Robert S. Conti’s “The History of the Greenbrier.”)
“We knew right away that we had about 40 residents whose homes were destroyed. With help from Greenbrier folks, we went to work building new houses for them,” Haynes says. “The city donated land, the materials were bought with donations, and rotating groups of Amish and Mennonites came down to do the building work,” Bowling says.
When all was said and done, 40 houses and an apartment complex were constructed.
“The first people moved into their new homes on Thanksgiving of 2016—not even five months after the flood,” Bowling says.
They named it Hope Village, and it’s a beautiful, mountain-rimmed place. Average cost of a house? “We were able to sell them for about $50,000,” Bowling says.
“Once we finished Hope Village, we were determined not to stop,” Haynes says. “Our downtown had gone through a few decades of decline, and we had a lot of empty storefronts. And when shops would come in, the building owners raised rent to the point where the shops couldn’t afford to stay. Twenty years ago, there wasn’t much reason to come downtown.”
Now? White Sulphur Springs has a Main Street parking problem—and they’re in the process of building a new pedestrian bridge across the river to connect shoppers with burgeoning Main Street businesses. Store facades have been renewed and small shops are opening. Big Draft Brewing features live entertainment and draws customers from all over the region. Barnwood Living (Barnwood Builders’ Mark Bowe lives in nearby Lewisburg) is a much-visited home décor and apparel shop. There’s a fly fishing shop, a bakery and a lot of restaurants. Main Street is busy—very busy.
But it’s one block off Main Street where you’ll find the most recent (and spectacular) addition to White Sulphur Springs: The Schoolhouse Hotel. Buying the long-vacant, 1912 White Sulphur Springs High School building, philanthropist and CEO of the Disability Opportunity Fund Charles Hammerman came to town and loved what he saw.
Haynes provides the details. “He and his wife came down from Manhattan, looking for an area to invest in. They’d been to a few other places in West Virginia—but they fell in love with White Sulphur Springs. ‘What do you need?’ they asked.
“We told him what we needed most was a hotel. ‘Done,’ he said.”
The Schoolhouse Hotel is the only hotel in the world in which every room exceeds ADA requirements. In the lobby, school memorabilia hangs side by side with local art. And from the rooftop bar, a 360-degree blue-sky view of the mountains and a thriving downtown makes you very glad you’re in this comeback town.
Any visit to WSS needs to include a stop at the memorial to the eight residents who lost their lives in the 2016 flood. Constructed of local materials as an Eagle Scout project, the shaded arched walkway is built of native stone, inset with the names and birthdates of the victims.
This memorial makes you want to sit a while, and appreciate a place like White Sulphur Springs. In the wake of what was called “one of the worst natural disasters in West Virginia history,” this town was compassionate enough to build its displaced residents affordable new homes; savvy enough to successfully apply for complex government funding; and skilled enough to work with high-dollar investors for the benefit of their downtown.
No doubt City Manager Lloyd Haynes knows whereof he speaks when he says, “Come back and see us in five years. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”
The story above first appeared in our January / February 2023 issue.
