The Troubling Quiet of North Carolina’s Cell Service Outages

Service has been restored in some areas after Hurricane Helene, but many people are still unable to communicate by phone, which has hampered relief efforts, worried loved ones and complicated daily life.

John Tressler stood next to what was left of his storm-battered deli, part of which had collapsed in the torrents of a raging river, and waited to meet a relief crew bringing a much-needed supply of food into Swannanoa, N.C.

He passed the time chatting with another business owner, and kept waiting. And waiting. He could use his phone to check the time, but, without cell service, it was of little use otherwise.

The problem, Mr. Tressler soon realized, was that he had changed the meeting spot at the last minute. And that text had never gone through.

More than a week after the remnants of Hurricane Helene unleashed catastrophic flooding in Swannanoa and much of western North Carolina, cell service remains spotty — or, in many cases, nonexistent.

Not being able to text or call has complicated relief efforts, made previously straightforward daily tasks difficult and even kept people in the dark about whether or not their loved ones perished in the storm.

The outage adds to the burden the region is now facing as the death toll from the storm has risen above 225 — more than half in North Carolina — and many population centers are facing a near future with no power or clean water. The loss of cell service has made solving those problems even harder. Officials have described not being able to reach family members of the people who died, delaying the identification of their bodies.

And on Friday, the dirt the storm deposited around Swannanoa was still billowing through the town of about 5,000 people, which lies about 10 miles east of Asheville. Storefronts were in tatters and people were lugging garbage bags of belongings from their waterlogged homes.

A bustling network of rescue workers and volunteers had arrived, and helicopters were taking off regularly from a large patch of grass near a motorcycle dealership. But those relief workers said the lack of cell service was making them less efficient. Some described multiple aid groups, unable to coordinate on the go, arriving at the same house one after another.

Many people said their phones were still not working from just about anywhere in town.

“At 2 in the morning, I’ll hear 20 texts come in, and then I’ll wake up — don’t have service,” said Mr. Tressler, a Verizon user, who described the network as reliable before the storm, even when driving through the area’s mountains.

But on Friday, it was largely unusable, and customers of other providers were having more success.

A T-Mobile user, Jordan Bias, 26, said he has had solid service in recent days and has been doling out his phone for others to call loved ones, reach neighbors and even pay bills.

The complex nature of a cellular network presents multiple points of vulnerability, with a cellphone call or text traveling across a hidden system of technologies before it connects two people. There are fiber optic lines connecting big cities, lines stretching out to towns and still other lines that feed directly into a cellular tower. That cellular tower then transmits the call through antennas that beam it across the airwaves, ultimately to a user’s device.

In areas of North Carolina that were affected by the storm, more than 20 percent of cell sites were still down on Friday, according to the Federal Communications Commission.

In Buncombe County, which is home to 274,000 residents and includes Asheville, Swannanoa and other hard-hit areas, there were several points of failure. On Sept. 28, a day after the area suffered its worst damage, about 82 percent of the county’s cell towers were offline, mostly because of power outages and disruptions between the fiber optic lines and cell towers.

Only one cell tower in the county was physically damaged, according to data provided to the F.C.C. by local carriers, but the county has been slower than other areas to recover cell service.

According to the F.C.C.’s latest report on Friday, 40 percent of Buncombe’s 347 cellular towers were still not working.

An F.C.C. spokeswoman said the agency was investigating why it was taking longer for some areas to recover than others. But preliminary reports show that telecommunications operators have struggled to get generators to the affected areas because the obliteration of roads in the storm has cut of access to equipment.

Verizon said it has had difficulty accessing cell tower sites in western North Carolina for days because of closures on major highways and roads. Fiber optic cables were damaged, and the power was down. The company said it responded with portable cell sites — mobile mini cell towers — used during natural disasters and large sporting events. Two of those backup cell sites operated in the sky, on drones.

The fiber lines in many rural areas, including in Buncombe County, are also often above ground and more easily damaged than those that are buried underground in big cities, according to the F.C.C. Power outages have also cut off much internet service.

The connection problems have not been limited to North Carolina.

Steve Boyer, 53, the county administrator in Grayson County, Va., just north of the North Carolina border, said that on the Sunday after the hurricane hit, he ordered a Starlink terminal for $290. When it arrived two days later, he set up the satellite internet device on a slab of plywood in downtown Independence, where it provided service to the Sheriff’s Office, the Fire Department and other local emergency organizations.

“We started rocking and rolling right away,” he said.

Still, to many, the cost of a Starlink — on top of the hardware, the monthly service fee is $120 — makes it a nonstarter.

Tony Lee, 47, a volunteer firefighter who was filling up gas cans in a mechanic’s parking lot in Swannanoa on Friday afternoon, uses Spectrum Mobile. He said he would have to make do without a Starlink. Instead, he has taken to standing in his driveway, holding his phone delicately in a specific spot to try to get enough service for a call.

“If you move the slightest bit, it’ll drop,” he said. “Nobody can talk to nobody.”

His mother-in-law, Lynn Roberts, 57, said she had been speaking with friends and relatives on the phone only to have the call drop and service not return for at least an hour.

“Now, a cellphone is about the only way you can get ahold of anybody,” she said. “If you don’t have a cellphone, you don’t know if somebody is dead or alive, if they need you.”

Mr. Tressler, the deli owner, eventually met with the relief workers at their original rendezvous point. He said the loss of service had added stress to his daily life in other ways, too.

When he decided on a whim to wait in line for gas one night, he returned home to find his partner fretting about his later-than-expected arrival.

“She was standing on the porch like, ‘Where the hell have you been?’”

Cade Metz contributed reporting.