Siblings Derrick, 4, and Harmony, 7, Lost Their Lives in the Devastating Hurricane Helene: What We Know

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.

My 4-Year-Old Son Was Distressed Every Time My MIL Babysat – When I Discovered the Reason, I Got Revenge

Working as a nurse, Zoe often relied on her mother-in-law, Denise, to babysit Leo, her son. But when the little boy becomes visibly shaken by his grandmother’s presence, Zoe has to question the old woman’s actions, only to discover that Denise has a hidden agenda.

I had always thought that my mother-in-law, Denise, was a little overbearing, but I chalked it up to her just being protective of my son, her only grandson, Leo.

She was one of those women who carried herself with a certain authority that made you straighten your back and rethink your words. This had become more pronounced when Jeremy, her husband, passed away a few years ago, allowing Denise to reclaim her role as head librarian of the local library.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked Andrew, my husband, one day. “I have time now, so there’s no need to just have my part-time role there. And I can have my book club meetings at the library, too.”

“Okay, Mom,” Andrew said. “You do whatever you want.”

She wasn’t mean, exactly, but Denise had a way of making you feel small without even trying. But still, she lived two roads away and was always willing to babysit Leo whenever I had a shift at the hospital, and considering Andrew’s unpredictable hours at the law firm, Denise usually had to step in often.

“It’s what grandmothers are for, right, Zoe?” she would say whenever I asked her to come over.

And despite how her moods could shift without a moment’s notice, she was reliable and didn’t complain about it once.

But lately, Leo had been acting strange whenever Denise came over. At first, it was small things. He would cling to my leg a little longer than usual when I tried to leave or hide behind the couch when he heard her car pull up in the driveway.

I thought that my son was just going through a phase, or maybe even a bit of separation anxiety. I had seen it all the time with the kids in my ward, especially when they woke up and their parents weren’t in sight.

But then, last week, right before I was about to leave for a night shift, he started crying.

“I don’t want Grandma to stay with me!” he blurted.

Big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks, and he clutched my scrub with a grip that seemed stronger than a grown man’s.

I knelt beside him, brushing a lock of his blonde hair from his forehead.

“But why, sweetheart?” I asked gently. “Grandma loves you. And she always brings you treats. Remember the brownies and ice cream from last week?”

My son’s eyes darted to the doorway as if expecting her to walk in at any moment.

“Because… Grandma acts strange,” he said, his eyes wide.

I was about to press him further because I needed to know what was going on. But moments later, Denise’s familiar, clipped footsteps echoed down the hallway. Leo bolted off to his room.

“What’s going on?” Denise asked as she set her purse down on the hallway table. “Where’s my grandbaby?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “He ran to his room to play with his toys. Andrew is away for the next two days. He’s meeting with a client and running through a case.”

Denise nodded.

I left for work, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in my stomach. I spent the entire night running between patients and thinking about Leo’s words.

“Grandma acts strange.”

What did that even mean to a four-year-old?

When I got home the next morning, I found my son sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. His favorite cartoons were playing, but he wasn’t watching them. Instead, his eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying all night.

“Leo?” I said slowly. “Did you sleep at all?”

He shook his head.

“No, Mommy,” he said. “I stayed up. I didn’t want to sleep.”

“Why not?” I asked, even though I could already feel my heart sinking.

I pulled one of the blankets under the coffee table and wrapped Leo in it, hoping if he felt safer, he would talk.

“Because Grandma scares me,” he said, his hands clutching his teddy bear tightly.

I felt a wave of panic wash over me.

“Scares you? What happened, honey? What did Grandma say or do?”

“She keeps trying to put something into my mouth,” he said. “She chases me with it, and it’s scary.”

“What is she trying to put into your mouth, sweetheart?” I asked, my voice tight as I strained to show my emotions.

Leo hesitated.

“Cotton buds,” he said. “You know, what you clean my ears with? She said that she wants to put my spit in the tube. I don’t like it. I don’t want it.”

My blood ran cold. Ever since Leo’s accident a few months ago, where he fell off his bike and landed himself with a broken arm, he’s been terrified of doctors, needles, and anything that reminded him of his time in the hospital.

The thought of Denise running around the house with a cotton swab and a test tube made my blood boil. Why was she trying to get my son to take a DNA test?

“Where’s Grandma?” I asked Leo.

“In the guest room,” he said.

I marched to the guest room and found Denise sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the screaming match that was about to come. Without hesitation, I shook her awake.

“Wake up, we need to talk,” I said.

“What’s going on?” she asked, blinking away her sleep.

“Leo just told me that you’ve been trying to swab his mouth for a test? Why are you traumatizing my son? Why do you want him to have a DNA test?” I demanded.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she was going to deny it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up. “I didn’t mean to frighten Leo. I’ve just been wondering about something…”

“What? What would possibly be so important that you’d do this behind my back?”

“His hair,” she said simply. “Nobody has had blonde hair like that.”

“You think that my son isn’t Andrew’s because of his hair color?” I asked.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s been gnawing at me. I just needed to know, but I didn’t want to accuse you…”

“I can’t believe that you would go to such lengths, Denise.”

“I didn’t know what to think. I’m sorry, Zoe,” she said.

“Please leave, Denise,” I said. “I need time to process this. And I need to focus on Leo.”

She nodded, looking defeated.

Over the next week, things were tense between Andrew and me. While she drove home on the day of the confrontation, she had phoned Andrew and told him everything, firmly securing some seeds of doubt.

“I think we should do the test,” he quietly said one day, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him, hurt.

“You really think that’s necessary? You believe what your mother is implying?”

“It’s not that I believe it,” he said. “But if we do the test, we can put this all to rest. No more doubts, no more accusations. What if Leo was switched at birth?”

“I had a home birth!” I exclaimed. “You would have remembered if you were here and not in court.”

I sighed.

“Alright,” I said after a moment. “I’ll do the test for Leo, but on one condition.”

“What condition?” he asked.

“If I’m going to do this to prove our son is yours, then you’re going to do a test too. To prove that your father is really your father. Denise needs to know what this feels like.”

Andrew’s eyes widened, shock registering on his face from my request. “What? Why would you even suggest that?”

I could feel his brain overthinking it, but I also knew that he was trying to view the situation from my point of view.

I leaned forward, my voice firm, “Because your mother is the one who’s throwing accusations around. If she’s so obsessed with bloodlines, then maybe she should be sure of her own. So, if you want me to take a test, then you’re going to take one too.”

Andrew hesitated, clearly taken aback by my demand. But after a moment, he nodded. “Okay. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

A few days later, the test results came back. As expected, the test confirmed that Leo was indeed Andrew’s son.

But there was also another revelation that nobody saw coming.

It turned out that the test results for Andrew showed that his biological father wasn’t the man he had called Dad his entire life.

“What the hell, Zoe?” he said out loud.

“This is a conversation for you and your mother,” I said offhandedly.

As much as I wanted to know the truth and to know about Leo’s biological grandfather, I didn’t want to get caught up in Denise’s drama any further. No, thank you. I had a son to focus on. And there was just something about how Denise acted that I wasn’t going to forgive soon.

But eventually, my curiosity gave in and I asked Andrew about his conversation with his mother. It turned out that she had an affair in her youth, resulting in Andrew.

“She said that she had always suspected it, but she didn’t dare do a DNA test while my father was alive. Just imagine, I’ve gone my entire life thinking that my father was just that, my father. But he wasn’t, not biologically. I can’t forgive her, Zoe.”

My heart broke for him.

“So, what does this mean?” I asked.

“It means that we take our time and space away from my mother. And we focus on our son. She’s the one who betrayed our family. Not us,” he said.

I nodded, ready to move on and focus on our family.

Apparently, Denise’s guilt had eaten away at her for decades, leading her to project her insecurities onto me and our son.

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

My MIL Intentionally Sent Me Faded Flowers for My Birthday with a Nasty Note
Emily has always had issues with Denise, her mother-in-law. But when her birthday rolls around and her husband, Evan, has to go away on a business trip, Emily is left to entertain herself. Denise, on the other hand, takes matters into her own hands and gives her daughter-in-law a horrible birthday gift.

I know we all have problematic mother-in-law stories, but my goodness. I’ve been dealing with Denise for well over five years now. My husband, Evan, and I come from very different backgrounds, which were the first ingredients for a disaster.

Evan grew up in an affluent suburb, while I was raised by a single mom in a rough neighborhood where clothing was stolen straight off the line.

And to make it even worse for Denise? I’m a mixed-race woman, which Denise always looked down on.

“You definitely get your hair from your mother, then,” she would say to annoy me.

Despite Evan’s love and constant defense of me, Denise never missed a chance to remind him that he could’ve done better.

“I’ll bet you a spa day, Emily,” Evan told me one day as we were driving to his mother’s house for dinner. “She’s going to mention something about an ex-girlfriend or about me having done better.”

“You’re on,” I said.

Naturally, he was correct because not even fifteen minutes into the dinner, Denise was talking about an ex.

Read the full story here.

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