Asheville Watchdog is bringing you the stories behind the staggering loss of life from Helene, the children, parents, grandparents, multiple generations of a single family, all gone in one of the worst natural disasters to hit the mountains of western North Carolina. This is the fifth installment.  

At least two neighbors pleaded with Lyn McFarland to leave his beloved riverside home and spend the night with them the evening of Sept. 26.

But McFarland, an outgoing real estate agency owner with a wide circle of friends in the Botany Woods subdivision in Oteen, loved everything about the Swannanoa River. Its beauty. The way it calmed people and brought them together. Its power.

Tony DeLaurentis, McFarland’s neighbor and close friend, lives up the hill from the now-barren spot that held McFarland’s two-story home. They would often have dinner together on McFarland’s riverside deck, admiring the view and the sound of the water, and enjoying the company of McFarland’s beloved Lab-beagle mix, Poco.

“The irony was, we had a nice dinner the night before [Helene], and I said, ‘Come on up, come on up,’” DeLaurentis said. “And he’s like, ‘Nah, the river’s going down. It went down three feet since we had dinner.’”

The water, DeLaurentis says, has a way of “tricking people a little.” 

“Early Friday morning, it just all went to hell,” DeLaurentis said. “I can’t explain how fast the water rose. It wasn’t a gradual (rise) or a tidal wave. It just was like this water level, then that water level.”

He gestured with his hand as low as possible, then as high as possible.

‘The minute never came’

McFarland, 68, and Poco were last seen standing on a piece of the two-story home as it bobbed downstream in the muddy torrent. About a week later, a search and rescue team found his body about two miles away.

“I thought I saw him for a split second in the water, and that was it,” said DeLaurentis, 62, describing his last glimpse of his friend.

DeLaurentis said he and a group of younger men ran down to the next water access, hoping to spot McFarland again.

Even when they realized McFarland had been swept away, they held out hope he’d be washed ashore.

“It was just, ‘Ok, he’ll be up any minute, you know,” DeLaurentis said. “And the minute never came.”

McFarland’s ex-husband, Alex Poblet, who also owns a home in Botany Woods in the Oteen area, said he and McFarland moved into the home on Driftwood Court in 2006. They divorced a decade later but remained friends.

Over the years, Poblet said, milder floods came up in the yard, once even in the basement. The home was listed as being in the floodplain in Buncombe County records.

By estimating the water lines on houses across the street from the homes that washed away, DeLaurentis calculates the river hit at least 37 feet high. At 10:25 that morning, the water had risen up over Driftwood Court.

“And then by 10:39 the houses were gone, and you could just hear this incredible crashing noise,” DeLaurentis said. “And it takes you a second to realize, the house is breaking up. And they’re not like floating down the river; they’re just disintegrated.”

Everyone else in the neighborhood got out before their houses were swept away, DeLaurentis said. He thinks McFarland just miscalculated how fast the river could rise.

The homes in this part of Botany Woods sat yards from the Swannanoa, but well above the river. DeLaurentis has tallied 11 homes that are gone and two that are badly damaged.

Like McFarland, residents traded a little risk for the beauty of the river on a daily basis.

“His favorite thing is to spend (time) sitting by the river every evening with the dog,” DeLaurentis said, still using the present tense about his friend a month later. “They walked up and down the road, and I joined him a bunch of times walking with the dog. He loved the river.”

Poco, McFarland’s dog, really didn’t. He looked like a yellow Labrador retriever, “but he wasn’t a big water dog,” DeLaurentis said, noting Poco was a mix-breed, including possibly some shar-pei. “So he looked like a golden with a really loose suit.”

Remains of the home are scattered about the property and beyond. McFarland’s Dodge Ram pickup truck ended up corkscrewed into a tree.

The front steps remain, but with no door or wall behind them. Neighbors have adorned the stone steps with flowers, McFarland’s beloved artwork and small items of his they’ve found, creating an impromptu memorial.

“And one day, last Friday, there’s a dog collar,” DeLaurentis said.

It was Poco’s.

“At night, we always took the collar off and left it on the kitchen counter,” DeLaurentis explained. “I know it’s the only thing we’re gonna have left from him. Someone found it and carefully placed it here so I could bring it home and clean it up.”

Wrestling with regret

Another neighbor, Nicole Crane, also pleaded with McFarland to come to her house Sept. 26. She chronicled her concerns for McFarland, and her search — often on foot — on Facebook.

On Oct. 3, Crane posted:

“One week ago today I walked with Lyn McFarland and Poco the pup on Driftwood. It was getting dark and the river was not displaying anything suggesting what was to come. He had a bag packed just in case.

In the early morning hours I texted and called him as trees began falling on my house. I cannot forgive myself for not being brave enough to walk over to see if he was getting out when my messages went unanswered.

I continue to search for this man who has supported me without judgment for two decades through my divorce, raising my daughters whom he’s known since they were toddlers, helping me when parts of my house were falling apart, my brain was falling apart, my heart was falling apart. He encouraged all my ideas on furthering my education, changing careers, taking on athletic challenges and most of all, frequently told me that he respected me.”

McFarland bought the cabin of Crane’s ex-husband, next door and also near the river, and renovated it, complete with a “sanctuary patio” leading to the river. He always assured Crane that she was free to use it whenever she wanted.

“It was my place of solitude with my kids, my dogs,” said Crane, a 57-year-old nurse practitioner and mother of two daughters. “Even though it was a rental, he always granted me that access.”

Like McFarland’s house, that cabin is gone.

Poblet remembers all the good times at McFarland’s home, how McFarland had a beautiful music room upstairs with nearly a thousand albums and 500 compact discs. He remembers the parties with friends and their dogs, sometimes everyone winding up in the Swannanoa for a soak.

“It was a very happy, happy, happy place,” Poblet said. 

Successful businessman, art and dog lover

Poblet and McFarland met in south Florida in 2006, and they had a beautiful home there.

“But everybody was talking about Asheville, North Carolina,” Poblet said.

He and McFarland bought the home on Driftwood Court that same year, although McFarland split time between Asheville and Florida for two years. The couple filled their home with art, including pieces from John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

“They’re somewhere in the river now,” Poblet said solemnly Oct. 29.

At age 14, McFarland ran away from his Memphis home, hitchhiked across the country and slept wherever he could lay his head for two years, Poblet said, describing McFarland as an “old hippie.” McFarland returned home, finished high school, attended college for a couple of years and then migrated to Baltimore.

McFarland started a commercial carpeting business that he sold the company to a big corporation, but he continued working for the company for a few years.

Poblet said McFarland was always generous, and in business he was remarkably astute and could close any deal. After he sold his business, McFarland used the money to start his real estate business, Asheville Bulldog Realty. 

McFarland used his money in part to support local artists, including Brian Carter, a 33-year-old wood carver from Ohio. Carter posted a moving tribute to McFarland on his Facebook page.

“Thank you for your kindness, compassion, and influence in my art career,” Carter wrote. “Words can’t even begin to describe the devastation I’ve felt knowing what happened a week ago. You are truly an incredible soul and I just want to thank you for all of the opportunities you provided me.”

In an interview, Carter said he knew McFarland for about four years, and the man literally changed the direction of his life. He encouraged Carter to devote himself to his carvings and McFarland put his money where his mouth was, buying about two dozen pieces.

“I would do a project for him, and I never personally had anyone who was so appreciative to have me come perform and to see it happen,” said Carter. “He was just an incredible friend. I was really in the very beginning part of discovering my art, and he really gave me the place and the time to figure it out.”

‘Everyone’s his friend, even the ones he hasn’t met yet’

Poblet, Carter and Crane all noted how an eagle totem that Carter carved really embodied McFarland, and not just the freedom of the birds or how the highest eagle was sharing a fish with the one below.

At the base was a carved heart.

In one of her Facebook posts, before McFarland’s body was found, Crane noted that the totem remained standing on the patio amid all the destruction, albeit slightly askew. 

“I climb through the tattered remains of bamboo and massive wreckage of people’s lives daily and place my hand on the carved heart below the eagle and try to channel positive energy for his survival,” Crane wrote. 

On Oct. 4, Crane posted: “My final search for Lyn McFarland was this morning. Unfortunately Lyn has now been confirmed dead.”

Crane had shared her information with a search and rescue team, especially how she had tracked distinctive flooring from McFarland’s home downriver, and that team found his body. The identification was possible because of a distinctive tattoo on McFarland’s upper arm: a depiction of a merman.

“Ironic, and sad,” Crane said. “Lyn was a fabulous swimmer.”

DeLaurentis says McFarland befriended everyone he met, including at the neighborhood meet-and-greets, where they became friends.

“He’s just a fantastic person,” he said. “You know, everyone’s his friend, even the ones he hasn’t met yet.”

Asheville Watchdog is a nonprofit news team producing stories that matter to Asheville and Buncombe County. John Boyle has been covering Asheville and surrounding communities since the 20th century. You can reach him at (828) 337-0941, or via email at jboyle@avlwatchdog.org. To show your support for this vital public service go to avlwatchdog.org/support-our-publication/.

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