The Snowball Effect: How One Small Business Stepped Up After Hurricane Helene

When Reagan Bonnette turned 40, she was halfway across the world, celebrating in Bali with her husband. Meanwhile, back home in South Carolina, Hurricane Helene was making landfall—unleashing devastation unlike anything her community had ever seen.

"I run a small, independent, family-owned business—Stringer Oil & LP Gas in Anderson, South Carolina," Reagan explains. "We’re a 7-and-a-half-man team serving propane and fuel oil customers across three counties. In the grand scheme of the industry, we’re small. But when Helene hit, our size didn’t matter. What mattered was showing up and helping first—even when the system told us we couldn’t."

A Disaster With No Red Tape Relief

Helene tore through the Carolinas, Georgia, Tennessee, and Virginia, leaving destruction in its wake. In South Carolina alone, power was knocked out for weeks in some areas. Essential businesses like Stringer Oil & LP Gas had power restored within three days, but many homes and businesses faced seven to twenty-one days in the dark.

During emergencies, fuel providers often receive waivers to service other companies’ tanks to ensure that homes, businesses, and essential services—like hospitals and first responders—aren’t left without power. But this time, something unexpected happened.

"Six days after the storm, the LP Gas Board finally met," Reagan recalls. "Their decision? No. South Carolina wasn’t deemed a disaster zone. No waivers. No exceptions."

For the people waiting on a fuel delivery that would never come, the vote wasn’t just a bureaucratic decision—it was a brutal blow.

• An elderly woman, in active cancer treatment, living alone, relying on generator power—her propane tank down to 15 percent. Her provider wouldn’t answer or return her calls.

• A small business owner, cooking for volunteers and those in need, struggling to keep up—his home and business running out of propane. His supplier was nowhere to be found.

• An ambulance company, calling their supplier for days—stuck in dropped calls and hours on hold—still without a delivery. Their tank sat empty.

"Imagine explaining to that elderly woman, fighting for her literal life in the trenches of cancer treatment, that you cannot service her tank because the gas board said no," Reagan says.

It was at that moment she realized: helping wasn’t just part of the job—it was a responsibility.

A Snowball Effect of Good

With no state-approved waivers in place, Reagan took matters into her own hands. She contacted John Jessup, who worked quickly to find a workaround, connecting her with the right people and securing permission to step in where others had failed.

"When you hear fear in a person’s voice, it changes you," Reagan shares. "From that moment on, all I could think about was—what else can I do?"

That’s when an unexpected connection took her impact even further.

Jessica Thompson wasn’t in the industry—she didn’t know much about propane—but she made a simple post in a private Facebook group, asking for propane gauges to be delivered to Western North Carolina, where her husband was helicoptering in supplies.

"I could handle that," Reagan says. But then Jessica asked another question: “Is there any chance you can help with…?”

Before Reagan could even type a response, she already knew: "Maybe I can do more."

That one Facebook post? It was the first flake of snow.

Within hours, industry professionals were stepping up.

• Ty Denham (formerly of FW Webb) slashed cylinder costs.

• Warner Jones (Harper Industries) donated money toward propane tanks.

• Christin Battle (Battle LP) supplied cylinders, heaters, and hoses.

• Dan Richardson (Berquist) secured pallets of free regulators.

"When Berquist called, I thought we’d take a box or two. They said, ‘I think we can do better than that.’ And then—pallets showed up at my office," Reagan recalls.

She suddenly had more regulators than she knew what to do with. That’s when she made another call—to John Jessup.

"I asked him, ‘What family-owned propane company in Western North Carolina took a hard hit? Who could use some help?’"

That call led her to Young’s Fuel Service, a company that had lost nearly everything.

Their entire warehouse of parts—gone.
Their gas station—falling apart.
One of their trucks was swept away and slammed into a building.
They found one of their 30,000-gallon storage tanks—in TENNESSEE.

"All I could think was—if this were us … they’d show up for us, too," Reagan says.

Beyond Business: The Power of Community

Reagan’s impact didn’t stop with Young’s Fuel.

She took another trip to Western North Carolina, where she and an installer delivered propane tanks, heaters, warm work clothes, sleeping bags, and dry food.

One of the people she helped? A man named Manny—a local hero defying red tape and regulations to serve his community.

"Manny was out there, delivering food, making sure people had what they needed—filling the gaps where help wasn’t coming," Reagan says. "We made sure he could keep warm through the winter while he kept helping others."

But perhaps the biggest takeaway from this experience wasn’t just the immediate impact—it was the connections that changed everything.

"There’s something I know: there’s a lot of work that gets done in a group chat. Not the kind you mute. Not the family chat that makes you want to throw your phone. The ones that make you reach for your phone. The ones that make things happen," Reagan says.

Her group chat with Jessica, John Patterson, Nicole Sullivan, and John Jessup wasn’t just logistics—it was a place of problem-solving, support, and real friendships.

"This is telling of our industry," Reagan reflects. "Sometimes, holding space and listening can help in ways you can’t calculate. They may not add to the bottom line, but they’re invaluable nonetheless."

The Next Disaster is Coming—What Will You Do?

Today, nearly six months after Helene, Reagan and her industry colleagues know they did a lot. But they all wish they could have done more.

"There is always going to be red tape. It’s not reflective of who we are as business owners or helpers in our communities. But what it can do is fuel our passion for advocacy," she says.

That advocacy has taken her places she never expected:

• Walking the halls of D.C.

• Standing on this stage.

• Showing up on a viral TikTok.

And she has one message for the industry:

"The next disaster is coming. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not to you. But it will happen. And when it does, you have two choices."

"You can wait. Follow protocol. Accept the red tape. Let the system tell you no."

"Or—you can be the one who shows up. The one who ignores the obstacles. The one who pushes the snowball down the hill."

"Because helping first? It’s not just the right thing to do—it’s how we redefine leadership in this industry. And when the storm clears, you’ll know you did something that mattered."

And, of course, she adds with a smile:

"And if you ever need a propane gauge—you know where to find me."