Florida Teacher Killed by Hurricane Helene – Tragic Final Moments Revealed

Donna Fagersten had taken refuge at a friend’s home on the top floor as Hurricane Helene tore through northern Florida, leaving a devastating trail of destruction and more than 100 casualties in the southeastern U.S.

As the storm appeared to calm, the 66-year-old teacher, just days away from her retirement, made a fateful choice to return home to rescue her cat.

When Hurricane Helene hit Florida on September 26, 2024, around 11 p.m., the Category 4 storm triggered flash floods, forcing residents to scramble for safety. One of the hardest-hit areas was Pinellas County, particularly in the Tampa Bay region, where at least 11 people lost their lives.

Among the victims was Donna Fagersten, a second-grade teacher from Ponce De Leon Elementary in Pinellas County.

According to her best friend Heather Anne Boles, Donna was set to retire the following week after dedicating 35 years to teaching. When the storm hit, Donna sought shelter with Boles and her partner, Mike Moran. As the storm surge rushed in, they retreated to the third floor of Boles’ mother’s home, across from the beach where Donna lived.

Boles recalled that as the storm seemed to settle, Donna insisted on going home to check on her cat, despite Boles’ pleas to stay. Tragically, another surge and high winds returned, battering the coastline.

A neighbor later came to their shelter, reporting that someone had been found floating in the parking garage. They quickly pulled Donna from the water and began CPR, but despite their efforts and the arrival of fire rescue by boat, they were unable to revive her.

Detectives later confirmed that Donna had drowned in her home, which had been flooded with water.

Family and friends have since remembered Donna as a “beautiful person” who was deeply committed to her students and community. In a Facebook post, Mary Gleason Lyons, a colleague and friend, described Donna as a dedicated teacher with a big heart, touching the lives of many students over her 35-year career.

Online tributes poured in, with former students and friends expressing their sadness at her passing and remembering her kindness and warmth.

While Boles and Moran are now left to clean up after the floods, which destroyed most of their belongings, the loss of their best friend is what hurts the most. “This is the worst we have ever seen,” Boles said, reflecting on the storm’s destruction compared to Hurricane Irma, where they managed to keep their home and belongings intact.

On a positive note, Donna’s cat survived, and her friends are working to find him a new home.

Hurricane Helene, which cut a destructive 800-mile path northward, left more than 2 million homes without power and claimed over 100 lives, according to USA Today.

I Walked Out on My Wife at a Restaurant During Our 10th Anniversary – Her Mother Advised Me to Seek a Divorce After Learning the Reason

“Everything okay?” I asked as we sat down.

Fiona glanced up, startled. “Oh, yeah. Just checking something quick.”

I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. This was supposed to be our special night, but she seemed a million miles away.

The waiter appeared with menus. “Can I interest you in our anniversary special? A bottle of champagne to start?”

“That sounds perfect,” I said, smiling at Fiona. “What do you think, honey?”

She was staring at her phone again. “Hm? Oh, sure. Whatever you want.”

I sighed and ordered the champagne. As the waiter walked away, I reached across the table and gently touched Fiona’s hand.

“Hey, can we maybe put the phones away? It’s our anniversary.”

Fiona looked guilty. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just this new video series I found —”

I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Another prank channel?”

“They’re hilarious, Aidan! You should see some of these —”

I tuned out as she launched into a description of the latest viral prank. My mind wandered back to the past few weeks, and I felt my stomach tighten.

It had started innocently enough, Fiona showing me funny videos on her phone, and both of us laughing. But then she’d started trying to recreate them at home.

There was the time she jumped out from behind the shower curtain, nearly giving me a heart attack. The fake spider in Nora’s lunchbox that made our daughter cry. The “broken” glass prank that left Callum afraid to touch anything in the kitchen for days.

Each time, Fiona would laugh it off. “It’s just a joke!” she’d say. “Don’t be so serious!”

But I’d seen the fear in our kids’ eyes, felt the constant tension in my own shoulders. It wasn’t funny anymore. It was exhausting.

I snapped back to the present as the waiter returned with our champagne. Fiona was still talking, gesturing animatedly about some YouTuber’s latest stunt.

Fiona stood up abruptly. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back.”

I watched her walk away, a sense of unease growing in my stomach. Something felt off.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted behind me. I turned to see Fiona stumbling between tables, clutching her throat.

“I can’t breathe!” she gasped, falling to her knees. “Help me!”

The restaurant erupted in chaos. People rushed to her side, calling for help. I sat frozen, unable to process what was happening.

Then Fiona started laughing. “Just kidding!” she announced, getting to her feet. “It was a prank!”

The silence that followed was deafening. I felt the eyes of every patron boring into me. Fiona grinned, oblivious to the horror on everyone’s faces.

“Ma’am, that was extremely inappropriate,” the manager said, approaching our table. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I stood up, grabbing my coat. “I’m leaving,” I said, my voice tight with anger. “Without my wife. You can get an Uber home on your own,” I informed her.

Fiona’s smile faltered. “Aw, come on. It was just a joke!”

I didn’t even respond. I couldn’t even look at her. I rushed out to the car and made off before she had time to respond — besides, she needed to settle the bill anyway.

As soon as I got home, I headed for the kids’ rooms. “Pack a bag,” I told Nora and Callum. “We’re going to Uncle Declan’s for a bit.”

An hour later, I was knocking on my brother’s door, two sleepy kids in tow. Declan took one look at my face and ushered us inside without a word.

“Guest room’s all yours,” he said, helping me with the bags. “Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “Not tonight. Thanks, bro.”

My phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Fiona. I ignored them all and tried to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to find 37 missed calls and twice as many texts. I scrolled through them, my anger reigniting.

“You’re overreacting.”

“It was just a joke!”

“How could you embarrass me like that?”

“You owe me an apology.”

I tossed the phone aside, disgusted. How could she not see how wrong she was?

As if on cue, my phone rang again. This time, it was Greta, Fiona’s mom. I hesitated before answering.

“Aidan! What’s this I hear about you abandoning my daughter at a restaurant?” Greta’s voice was shrill with indignation.

I took a deep breath. “Hi, Greta. It’s not what you think.”

“Oh? Then explain it to me, young man. Because from where I’m standing, you left your wife alone on your anniversary. That’s pretty low.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Fiona pulled a prank, Greta. A bad one. She pretended to choke in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “She did what?”

I recounted the events of the previous night, including Fiona’s recent obsession with pranks and how it was affecting our family.

When I finished, Greta was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed heavily. “Oh, Aidan. I had no idea it had gotten this bad.”

“Yeah, well. Now you know.”

“I… I don’t know what to say. If things are really this bad, I… I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted a divorce.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Divorce? Is that where we were headed?

“I don’t know, Greta,” I said honestly. “I just need some time to think.”

After we hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. Was this really the end of our marriage?

I spent the day in a daze, mechanically going through the motions of caring for the kids. By evening, I’d made a decision.

I called Fiona. “Meet me at the restaurant tomorrow at 7 p.m. We need to talk.

She agreed immediately, sounding relieved. I hung up before she could say more.

The next night, I arrived at the restaurant early. My palms were sweaty as I clutched the envelope containing the divorce papers I’d had drawn up that afternoon.

Fiona walked in, looking smaller and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair disheveled.

“Hi,” she said softly, as she took a seat alongside me.

“Hi,” I replied, my throat tight.

We sat in awkward silence for a moment. Then Fiona burst out, “Aidan, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or the kids. I just got carried away with the pranks and —”

I held up a hand to stop her. Without a word, I slid the envelope across the table.

Fiona’s hands shook as she opened it. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at.

“No,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Aidan, no. We can work this out. I’ll stop the pranks, I promise. Please don’t leave me.”

I let her cry for a moment, my own eyes stinging. Then I took a deep breath.

“It’s a prank,” I said quietly.

Fiona’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The divorce papers. They’re not real. It’s a prank.”

Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. I leaned forward, my voice intense.

“This is what it feels like, Fiona. This is how your pranks make us feel. Scared, hurt, betrayed. Is this what you want for our family?”

Fiona’s face crumpled. “No,” she sobbed. “God, no. I’m so sorry, Aidan. I never realized…”

I reached across the table and took her hand. “I love you, Fiona. But this has to stop. No more pranks. Ever. Can you promise me that?”

She nodded vigorously, squeezing my hand. “I promise. No more pranks. I’ll delete all those stupid videos. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Okay,” I said. “Then let’s go home.”

As we stood to leave, Fiona hesitated. “Aidan? Thank you for not giving up on us.”

I pulled her into a hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. “We’re in this together,” I murmured. “For better or worse, remember?”

She laughed softly, a sound I realized I’d missed. “I remember. Let’s aim for ‘better’ from now on, okay?”

I nodded, feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in weeks. As we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, I knew we had a long way to go. But at least now, we were on the same page.

And there wasn’t a prank in sight.

What would you have done?

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