By Special Agent Jason Pack
When Hurricane Helene unleashed a torrent of rain across East Tennessee, Trooper Hannah Smathers with the Tennessee Highway Patrol was doing what troopers do every day — checking the roads, helping motorists and keeping people safe. But on that particular day, she didn’t expect to find herself stranded by floodwaters, swept off her feet by a fast-moving current and still working 18 hours later, soaked to the bone and caked in mud.
Her story is one that sticks with those who hear it because it’s a quiet reminder of the grit, calm and duty that define state troopers across Tennessee.
A routine patrol turns into a rescue
Smathers started the day at the THP office in Unicoi County, finishing a crash report from the day before. When dispatch received a call to assist with checking for flood-prone roadways, she was sent to Spivey Mountain Road — a scenic but narrow stretch often impacted by heavy weather.
“I was actually in the office, finishing a crash report from the previous day, when we got a call to assist Unicoi with checking the roadway for flooding,” Smathers recalled. “That’s a pretty common call when there’s bad weather. They wanted me to check Spivey Mountain Road, so I headed out. It didn’t take long to get there.”
At first, conditions looked manageable.
“Spivey Creek runs alongside Spivey Mountain Road, and the water was high. But it wasn’t in the roadway for the most part,” she said. “There were some sections, some curves that were covered...but I was able to drive through them. That was around 9 a.m.”
Satisfied with the check, she turned around to head back. That’s when things changed fast. The Nolichucky River, known for its rapid rise and unpredictable current, was beginning to show its strength. “I was seeing it firsthand,” she said. “The creek had started rising and was quickly moving onto the roadway.”
Coming back down the mountain, Smathers encountered a stopped SUV. The driver was unsure about crossing a section of water. Smathers offered to lead her through.
“I was confident both of our vehicles could make it. I went through a section of water, but she didn’t follow me. So I turned around and went back.”
The situation was changing by the minute. The woman’s husband arrived in a truck and took her out of the area. As Smathers continued driving down, she came across two pedestrians trying to walk through floodwaters.
“I wasn’t comfortable with them trying to walk through that water,” she said. “I knew how hard it had been to drive through, and I didn’t think they would make it. There was no shoulder, no high ground. So I told them to hop in, and I took them home.”
Trapped by the current, but not alone
After dropping them off safely, Smathers continued down the mountain. But within moments, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to get out either. “I came around the curve through a small section of flowing water and saw a mailbox ahead that was nearly submerged,” she said. “There was 4.5 feet of fast-moving water in front of me. I knew I couldn’t drive through that. But I also couldn’t turn around because the current behind me was strong enough to disable my vehicle.”
She contacted dispatch and reported she was stuck — but safe. Her sergeant responded immediately. “They came as close as they could. They were about 500 feet away from me — but on the interstate. And everything between us was underwater.”
She waited calmly as the situation was assessed. Eventually, her sergeant decided to deploy a swiftwater rescue team to extract Smathers and the driver of another vehicle that had also become trapped nearby. “The water actually killed his engine. He had been driving against the current, and the water just pushed up into it,” she said.
Swept away, but still standing
For the rescue to happen, Smathers had to prepare for conditions most officers never face. That meant taking off her ballistic vest and duty belt and trusting her safety to the rope thrown to her by the rescue team.
“I had to take off my vest, my belt — everything,” she said. “They threw me a lifejacket and a rope. But there was no harness. If I let go of that rope, I was going with the water.”
She stepped out of her cruiser. Within seconds, the current swept her legs out from under her. “The second I stepped away from my car, my feet were swept out from under me,” she said. “I went underwater, but I held onto the rope. That was my only chance.”
Once she made it to safety, it would’ve been understandable if Smathers called it a day. But that wasn’t even a question in her mind. “There was another vehicle stranded in front of me,” she said. “He had been driving against the current, and when he tried to get out of his truck, he broke his ankle. So after I got rescued, I turned right around and helped carry him to safety.”
The definition of service
Soaking wet, caked in river mud, and still wearing the uniform she had on when the day began, Smathers stayed on duty. She continued helping others at the Welcome Center, checking on motorists stuck by the storm, and lending a hand wherever needed.
Tennessee Department of Safety and Homeland Security Commissioner Jeff Long wasn’t surprised when he heard her story. “What Trooper Smathers did that day is a powerful reminder of the dedication our state troopers bring to their communities,” Long said. “She showed courage, humility, and heart. Whether in a flood, a crash scene, or a routine patrol, our troopers are out there every day making Tennessee safer.”
“Why did I keep working? Because that’s what I was there for. That’s what we do,” Trooper Smathers said. “If I could help in any way — answering questions for people stranded at the Welcome Center, talking to motorists stuck on the interstate — I was going to do it. What I went through was nothing compared to what some people lost that day.”
She finally clocked out around midnight.
“I know sometimes it sounds cliché when people say they just want to help others,” she said. “But that’s really what this job is about. Helping people. Making sure they’re safe. That’s all I was trying to do that day.”
Trooper Smathers never considered herself a hero. She didn’t ask for attention. She simply did what needed to be done. But her story continues to be shared — because it represents something bigger than one trooper in a flood. It’s about what service looks like when no one is watching. It’s about the everyday strength of the men and women of the Tennessee Highway Patrol.
“Trooper Smathers’ actions are a reflection of what our troopers do every day — often without recognition,” said Colonel Matt Perry, Commander of the Tennessee Highway Patrol. “She showed calm under pressure, helped those in need, and continued serving even after going through something most people can’t imagine. That’s the kind of character we look for in this agency.”
Tennessee Department of Safety and Homeland Security Commissioner Jeff Long echoed that sentiment.
Now, six months removed from Hurricane Helene, the road where Smathers was trapped looks calm again. The mailbox is back in place. The creek is back within its banks. But those who know what happened there haven’t forgotten.
Her cruiser has since dried out. Her uniform long since cleaned. But her story — and the quiet resilience she showed that day — in soaked boots and mud-covered sleeves — is a textbook example of what it means to wear the badge in Tennessee. Because for her, and so many like her, there’s no such thing as “off duty” when your neighbors are in trouble.
About the author
Special Agent Jason Pack is Director of Communications for the Tennessee Department of Safety and Homeland Security.
