Years after storms, clean-up crews meticulously separate the sentimental from the wreckage

The wreckage sits near a shallow tributary of the Cane River, where Robertson says her grandchildren used to play in the water when they visited. Sandy river bottoms and banks nearby still hold scattered pieces of the storm's aftermath. Robertson chokes up describing the scene, calling it a spot where generations of her family gathered.

Lost-and-found networks across the country work to reunite people with objects swept away by disasters like Helene. That work stretches on for years after the cameras leave and the news cycle moves on. Sometimes it never finishes. Crews sort through what's left behind, trying to separate ruined debris from things that still mean something to the people who lost them.

For families like Robertson's, the slow pace of cleanup means living alongside reminders of what the storm took. A porch umbrella and rusted decking with nails still sticking out sit in the yard. The riverbank where kids used to swim now doubles as a debris field.

How long does grief have to wait on cleanup crews before a front yard feels like home again?