Several decades ago, talented news-feature writers began using an interesting writing technique to offer readers doors into complex, often overwhelming stories.

The theory went something like this: Don’t tell me a story about 100,000 people — tell me a story about one person who represents those 100,000 people. 

It’s not a perfect way to write the news. Reporters and editors still need to include tightly sourced background material that documents the reality of the 100,000 people — many more, actually — trapped in many corners of the Hurricane Helene ravaged Southern Highlands.

Some of those details made it into this week’s “Crossroads” podcast, which discussed some of the news coverage of the post-hurricane relief efforts by religious groups.

Religious groups — think Southern Baptists, Catholics, Mennonites, Latter-day Saints and many more — always respond in these circumstances, often arriving in the disaster zones several days before government teams roll into town.

The question that opened the Lutheran Public Radio podcast broadcast went something like this: “The press tends to emphasize political conflicts in disaster relief, as opposed to focusing on the decades of work by major religious groups. Is that a ‘not getting religion’ thing?”

Yes, it is. As stated in a GetReligion.org mantra, many (but not all) mainstream journalists follow this doctrine: “Politics is real. Religion? Not so much.”

Friends and neighbors, you can’t use that approach when covering life in the Southern Highlands. Faith is a major force in a region in which almost all of the essential two-lane roads are next to rivers (since the rivers cut through the mountains), all the towns are next to the roads, and most of the Baptist churches (there are hundreds) are next to rivers that are often used in baptism rites.

Religion-beat veteran Bob Smietana is currently producing reports about the faith-driven relief efforts, and I imagine those Religion News Service stories will continue — combining to capture a bigger picture. In this case, the issue isn’t whether there is “secular” news that “gets” this story, the issue is whether many mainstream editors will note these stories and share them with their readers. Readers: Do you see a pattern in this Google News search? Yes, spot the “religion” news websites.

Why isn’t this topic covered far and wide? Well, I explored some of the reasons in my Rational Sheep post: “No news? Massacres in Africa (and floods in my Southern Highlands — The cynical equations that determine the news that makes headlines.”

But Smietana clearly wants this angle covered. Here’s his first story, reported hours after the disaster began to unfold: “After Hurricane Helene, faith groups ramp up disaster relief.” The overture says:

(RNS) — Even before Hurricane Helene made landfall in the United States, near Tallahassee, Florida, on Thursday (Sept. 26), faith-based disaster groups were on the move.

Disaster relief staff from the Southern Baptist Convention shipped food and other essentials to Valdosta, Georgia, where Send Relief, a Southern Baptist humanitarian group, runs a ministry center. From there, supplies could be sent to the Gulf Coast and other areas affected by the devastating storm.

Coming ashore as a Category 4 hurricane, Helene killed 52 people at last count and left millions without power in at least eight states across the Southeast U.S., according to the Associated Press.

On Friday, as the storm headed north, SBC officials and leaders from other faith-based groups were holding conference calls and planning their relief efforts. In the early days of their response, along with assessing damages, Southern Baptists and Salvation Army officials planned to establish mobile kitchens capable of turning out 10,000 meals a day in Georgia and Florida.

That death toll is going to veer much, much higher. I keep sending readers to a Facebook page — the Burnsville Hub — that is documenting what is happening in one town in the thick of the flooding, and even smaller towns nearby that are currently accessible by foot, mules, helicopters or ATVs (maybe). Some people are trying to use drones. My family has three decades worth of ties to Burnsville, and the Cane River Valley, so this is personal. Who knows when we will be able to return?

The second Smietana news report is here: “In North Carolina, sound of chainsaws brings hope as faith-based workers clear roads.” On X, he has pledged to keep covering this ongoing disaster story.

I would note that Northeast Tennessee has been ravaged as well. I know that because my family is caught in that, too, since we are in the process of moving into a home in a flood zone in the Tri-Cities area.

Trust me, those chainsaws in that RNS headline are real and they are everywhere, along with emergency pumps. Here are some “symbolic details” to help readers get the picture. 

Read this slowly: The chainsaws are being used to cut up the fallen trees that are everywhere, including on top of homes and roads. Many people then need to burn that wood to create fires with which to boil water — since they don’t have running water, enough bottled water (remember the destroyed bridges and roads) or electricity of propane to power “modern” ways to boil water.

That’s horrifying.

Thus, I feel the need to end with a faith-framed story that offers a more joyful “symbolic detail. The YouTube video atop this post tells the story, and here is a version that made it into the populist New York Post: “Devoted dad braves 30-mile trek through Hurricane Helene flood debris to walk daughter down aisle.” The overture: 

A South Carolina father made a treacherous 30-mile journey on foot through Hurricane Helene-ravaged Tennessee, risking life and limb to ensure he could walk his daughter down the aisle at her wedding.

On his grueling five-and-a-half hour overnight trek — most of which was in total darkness — David Jones scrambled over mountains of gnarly flood debris, dodged heavy machinery and even got stuck in the mud up to his knees.

Miraculously, he made it to the church on time.

He initially planned to drive from his home in South Carolina to Johnson City, Tenn., a roughly two-hour drive under normal conditions. But Mother Nature had other plans, and after seven hours on the road, he was informed by a state trooper in the home stretch that Interstate 26 — and any conceivable back route to the venue — were impassable due to severe flooding.

That’s all for now. If you are the praying type, keep praying.

Enjoy the podcast and, please, pass it along to others.