Grief strikes Mexican immigrant families after workers lost to Helene

Erwin, Tenn., Oct. 7: With shaking hands, Daniel Delgado kissed a photo of his wife, Monica Hernandez, before lighting a candle in a supermarket parking lot. Family members hugged pictures printed on poster board, some collapsing into them in tears as search helicopters flew overhead in the direction of the hills.

Days after six workers at a plastics factory disappeared under surging floodwaters caused by Hurricane Helene, loved ones and supporters have been gathering for vigils in front of churches, a high school and a grocery store to honor them.

Most nights, prayers in Spanish are spoken over rosary beads: "Mary, mother of Jesus, intercede and help us find them."

The storm, which claimed the lives of at least 227 people across six states, quickly overwhelmed Erwin, an Appalachian town of around 6,000, on Sept. 27 and resulted in more than 50 people being rescued by helicopter from the roof of a submerged hospital.

The scar it left behind has been especially devastating within the small Latino community that makes up a disproportionate number of workers at the factory: Four of the six workers swept away were Mexican American.

Two state investigations have been launched into Impact Plastics and whether the company should have done more to protect workers as the danger grew.

The families of those lost say they still can't comprehend the ferocity of the storm —or why their loved ones didn't get out of the factory earlier to avoid the raging floodwaters.

"We ask: Why? Why did she go to work? Why did she stay?" Hernandez's sister Guadalupe Hernandez-Corona said, through a translator, after a Thursday night vigil. "We're all still wondering."

Impact Plastics President Gerald O'Connor has said no employees were forced to keep working and they were evacuated at least 45 minutes before the massive force of the flood hit the industrial park.

"There was time to escape," he said in a video statement, adding that he was among the last to leave the plant after ensuring everyone was out. The National Guard rescued five employees by helicopter.

But surviving workers say the evacuation began too late. Some clung to pipes on truck flatbeds for up to six hours while making frantic 911 calls and saying goodbyes to loved ones. Some saw coworkers carried off by the current.

Emergency dispatchers said resources were spread thin as a rescue operation was underway over a mile downriver at Unicoi County Hospital.

Normally running 2 feet (about 60 centimeters) deep, the Nolichucky River rose to a record 30 feet (9.1 meters) that day, running at more than 1.4 million gallons (5.3 million liters) per second, which is twice as much as Niagara Falls.

The plastics plant was open, even as local schools shuttered. Robert Jarvis, who began his shift at 7 a.m., said employees continued to work while receiving phone alerts about possible flooding. Many stayed even after management asked them to move cars because 6 inches of water had accumulated in the parking lot.

Employees were finally told to evacuate after the power went out and when the water was about a foot (30 centimeters) high, he said. Jarvis said he survived only because he was pulled into the bed of someone's lifted truck, which labored up an all-terrain road for three hours.

Jarvis said the six lost coworkers were "like family" and he feels a responsibility to them to share his experience.

"They shouldn't have been at work that day," he said. "None of us should have."

Annabel Andrade, whose cousin's daughter Rosy Reynoso is still missing, said evacuation routes were insufficient. And O'Connor's statement angered her: "He left safely. Why was he able to save himself and leave these other employees stranded?" (AP)