What began as a peaceful evening for the Taylor family quickly turned into an unimaginable tragedy. Kisses were exchanged before bedtime, with no one realizing that by the next morning, their lives would be shattered by devastating news.
Among the more than two dozen victims of the catastrophic storm in Georgia were a brother and sister, Derrick and Harmony. Their untimely deaths have left the entire community mourning, as families try to cope with the overwhelming grief of losing loved ones.
On the evening of September 26, 2024, Crystal Taylor, 34, spent time with her eldest daughter, Cassidy, 11, as they snuggled up on the couch watching “Beat Bobby Flay.” As they drifted off to sleep, Crystal kept one eye on the weather, monitoring the approaching Hurricane Helene. In the bedroom, her husband, Herbert Taylor, 39, was asleep with their two younger children, Harmony, 7, and Derrick, 4.

Though they knew Hurricane Helene was heading toward eastern Middle Georgia, the family wasn’t sure how much it would affect them inland. But as midnight came and went, the storm’s fury descended on the area, sweeping through the countryside and moving relentlessly across rivers toward Sandersville, a small town right in its path.
Around 4:00 a.m., Crystal received a call from her mother, checking if the house was still safe. Crystal reassured her that everything was fine, though the winds had picked up and a giant oak tree loomed over the backyard. Herbert, waking up, saw the wind lift the cover off his truck and moved toward the children’s bedroom to check on them.
Before he could reach them, disaster struck. The massive oak tree crashed onto the bed where Harmony and Derrick were sleeping, collapsing the house in a split second. Herbert shouted in panic, “My babies,” as the impact triggered an electrical fire. Crystal and Cassidy rushed to safety at a neighbor’s house, while Cassidy tearfully called 911.
Cassidy remained brave as she explained, “A tree fell on our house. My little brother and sister are trapped inside, and the house is on fire.” Emergency crews arrived to find the home engulfed and the oak tree blocking access to the children. Despite their best efforts, it took over five hours to cut through the tree, and by then, it was too late.

Crystal, in her heartbreak, clung to hope as she waited, imagining her children emerging safely. She could see Derrick asking for his favorite cookies and crackers, and Harmony asking for her favorite boiled potatoes made by her grandfather. But tragically, the children were gone.
The Taylor family, now grieving the loss of Derrick and Harmony, has expressed their gratitude for the outpouring of love and support. Herbert shared on social media how much the prayers and kind words have meant to them, while Crystal echoed his sentiments, thanking everyone for their care during this difficult time.
The Taylors have also been receiving generous financial support through Herbert’s Cash App, $Rick4715, as well as via a GoFundMe campaign organized by Brittany Price and Jenna Barefield on behalf of the family. So far, the GoFundMe has raised over $45,000 out of its $50,000 goal.
The page reads, “We kindly ask for your support to help the family during this devastating time, covering funeral expenses, securing a new home, and managing daily costs. Their eldest daughter also remains in their care.”
With more than 750 contributions, the Taylors are incredibly grateful for the flood of financial help, prayers, and thoughtful gestures from their community.
The Taylors, along with other affected families, are working to rebuild their lives after such a heartbreaking loss. As previously reported, Hurricane Helene has left a tragic trail of destruction, taking the lives of many, including a young boy and his grandparents. The boy’s aunt shared the heartbreaking details of their story in a lengthy post online.

According to CBS News, Hurricane Helene has claimed at least 135 lives so far. Among the hardest-hit states, North Carolina has suffered the most, with over 80 reported deaths, according to officials.
One particularly heart-wrenching account shared by the news outlet involved a mother, her young son, and her parents who were stranded on a rooftop in Ashville, North Carolina. As the floodwaters rose and their house collapsed, Megan Drye tragically watched her 7-year-old son, Micah, and her parents get swept away. While Megan was rescued, Micah and his grandparents were not as fortunate.
Megan’s sister, Jessica Drye Turner, took to Facebook to share updates about the tragedy. In her post, dated September 30, Jessica expressed the emotional toll the loss has taken on her and her family, as they come to terms with the heartbreaking reality.
“I feel a sense of peace knowing we will see them again one day,” Jessica wrote, sharing her faith in the belief that her loved ones are now with Jesus. She reflected on how the fear and desperation they experienced during their final moments have now been replaced with peace in the afterlife.
Jessica also acknowledged the immense grief her sister Megan faces, having witnessed the tragic events firsthand. “It breaks my heart that Megan will have to live with those memories, but they are no longer suffering,” she shared, adding that Megan has a long road ahead to heal from the trauma.
In a particularly poignant moment, Jessica revealed that Micah’s body had been found about a quarter of a mile from where Megan was rescued. “He was such a perfect little boy,” Jessica wrote, “He always wanted to be a superhero, and now he is.”
Jessica also shared that Micah’s final words were a plea to heaven: “Jesus! Please help me!” She concluded the post by stating that despite the grief, her faith remains strong, adopting a new motto: “New grief and strong faith.”

Jessica’s post also recounted the terrifying experience Megan endured while waiting to be rescued. Swept away by the flood, Megan found herself wedged between two trailers, where she remained for three agonizing hours before help finally arrived.
Much like Jessica, Heather’s friend, Amanda Sprouse Simpkins, also took to Facebook to share the heartbreaking news.
In her post, Amanda urged, “Please lift up Megan, Jessica Drye Turner, Heather, and their family in your prayers. Megan has suffered an unimaginable loss and is left with nothing. If you feel called to help, please consider giving. If not, your prayers are more than enough.”
Amanda’s plea referred to the GoFundMe page that Heather set up to support her sister during this difficult time.
“For Megan Drye, our miracle, who has endured every mother’s worst fear. She survived the unthinkable but has lost everything. The kindness and generosity of others will be what sustains her, helping her take one breath, one step, and one day at a time,” reads part of the GoFundMe description.
Adding another layer of heartbreak to this tragedy is that Heather chose the last photo Micah’s grandmother ever took of him for the page. The picture shows Micah, wearing a Jurassic World T-shirt, smiling happily while his grandmother is seen in the reflection of the door, capturing the moment.
Even as Hurricane Helene’s fury subsides, its aftermath continues to leave devastation across several states. Despite efforts to minimize the damage, the storm’s impact has been overwhelming.
I Became a Burden to My Father after I Lost the Ability to Walk – Story of the Day

I Became a Burden to My Father after I Lost the Ability to Walk – Story of the Day
I was paralyzed and trapped in a wheelchair in an accident, and my father refused to be burdened with me. But then he gets taught an important lesson.
I was 19 when I was run over by a car on my way to work. For me, it was the end of the world: a screech of tires, darkness, and pain. And when I woke up, I heard the voices say I’d never walk again.
I kept asking for my father, but he only showed up three days later, looking the worse for the wear and I knew he’d been on a bender while I’d lain there fighting for my life.

She was injured in a horrible accident | Source: Shutterstock.com
My mother died when I was 12, a victim of breast cancer. I remember her as a sweet, weary woman, always cringing from my father’s cruel words, working to keep food on the table while he drank his paycheck away.
As soon as I turned 14, he ordered me to find a part-time job to help with the bills, and when I was 16, I dropped out of school and started working full time to support myself — and him.
But when my father finally arrived at the hospital to visit me, there was neither compassion nor gratitude in his eyes. The doctor explained that although my spine was not severed there had been severe bruising and compression.
I might — by a long shot — recover my ability to walk, but most likely, I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. And that was when my father walked away. He said to the doctor, “She’s over 18, isn’t she? She’s an adult, right? So she’s not my responsibility anymore. You take her.”

My father was an alcoholic | Source: Unsplash
I remember my doctor’s horrified expression and my father’s gaze sweeping over my limp legs. “Useless! Useless like your mother!”
Those were the last words I’d hear from him for the next six years. A little while later I was transferred to a recovery center where I was lucky enough to be assigned to a therapist named Carol Hanson.
Family is built on love, not a biological bond, or shared DNA.
She was an older, motherly woman who immediately took me under her wing. Carol was as loving as she was demanding, and she was very demanding. Over the next year, she pushed me towards a recovery I’d never dreamed possible.
The day I stood on my own two feet and took my first step, I cried like a baby, and so did Carol. It was only the beginning, and the next few months I worked even harder, but finally was pronounced healthy.

I woke to discover I was paralyzed | Source: Unsplash
It was a bittersweet moment for me. I was healed from my injury and I was walking again, but I was terrified. I had nowhere to go, no family. I was all alone in the world.
Carol walked in and found me crying. She sat beside me on the bed and put her arms around me. “Jenny,” she said to me, “it’s all right to be scared. You’re starting your life again.”
“I have no one, and nowhere to go,” I whispered, remembering other patients leaving surrounded by loving family, “I’m alone.”
“No you’re not,” Carol said firmly, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Would you like to move in with me? Just until you get your life together again…”

I was stuck in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash
So I did, and it was lovely. Carol and I got on beautifully, and she gave me my own room, a pretty room, the prettiest I’d ever seen. “It was my daughter’s,” Carol explained with tears in her eyes. “I lost her like you lost your mother.”
I started googling for jobs the next day on Carol’s computer, but when I came down to breakfast there were some informative flyers on the table from the local high school announcing night classes for adults wanting to complete their secondary education.
“I think,” said Carol firmly, “that you need to go back to school so you can go back to college.”
My mouth dropped open. “College? I can’t afford college!” I gasped. “Carol, I don’t have a cent to my name and no way to support myself if I don’t get a job, and quickly.”

The physiotherapist helped me heal | Source: Pexels
Carol shook her head: “No, Jenny, you can’t afford NOT to go to college. Listen, I will lend you the money, and when you graduate, you pay me back — just like a student loan with a bank.”
Anyway, she talked me into it, and I quickly completed the high school certification I needed and applied to the local college. I’ll admit Carol’s example inspired me to become a nurse, and four years later, I graduated summa cum laude.
I started working at a local hospital and ended up specializing in neo-natal care. One day, a TV crew came in to do a news story on a set of identical triplets and ended up interviewing me.
For a while, I was a bit of a celebrity, but the attention brought me an unwanted visitor. The doorbell rang and when I opened it, I was stunned to see my father standing there.

I became a nurse | Source: Pixabay
He looked terrible, like a bum, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. “Jenny, my sweet baby girl!” he cried, reaching out his hands. “I’ve finally found you again.”
“Found me again?” I asked sharply, “You abandoned me in the hospital because I was useless, remember, like my mother?”
He squeezed out a few tears. “Oh my baby,” he sobbed. “Forgive me, I was frightened and in shock… You won’t turn your dad away now, would you? I haven’t been well…”
“You look fine to me,” I told him coldly, but my trained eye had already noted the yellow tinge to his skin and eyes. He had some kind of liver disorder, probably due to his drinking.

An unexpected visitor | Source: Pixabay
He shuffled forward. “I’m sick, Jenny, daddy really needs you…And…” he licked his lips thirstily. “And I’m broke, baby, no money for food…You’re not going to let your daddy go hungry, are you?”
“Like you left me to my fate? Helpless in a wheelchair? Guess what ‘DADDY,’ I am. Get out.” I slammed the door in his face and walked back into the lounge.
Carol looked up at me and smiled. “Who was that, Jenny?”
“Oh, just some man selling something!” I went to the sofa, sat down beside Carol, and hugged her fiercely. Carol hugged me back.

Carol adopted me | Source: Pexels
“Jenny,” she said, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Would you allow me to adopt you? Become your mother? Because in my heart you already are my daughter.”
I started crying and I just couldn’t stop. I had been cursed with a terrible childhood, and now as an adult, I had been lucky enough to find a loving home and a parent who cherished me.
What can we learn from this story?
1. Family is built on love, not a biological bond, or shared DNA.
2. What you give is what you get, as Jenny’s father discovered.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a beautiful socialite who humiliates an old friend and ends up regretting it.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us, maybe it will change someone’s life.
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