Melvin Hardy, Jr.

Melvin Hardy, Jr., Retired, Lynch, Kentucky:

“I was born and raised in Cumberland, Kentucky on Sanctified Hill. Growing up in the mountains; there is no greater place in the world to grow up than in the mountains of Harlan County, Kentucky, the foothills of Black Mountain. Everybody just cared about one another. Mack Wilson, that I worked with for ten and one-half years at Sears was just like a brother to me, he taught me so much that made me who I am, right now. Mack Wilson and my father they made me the person that I am today.

Some of the happiest times in my life, of course, was marrying my wife and having my two children. Working there at Sears and Roebuck; with Mack Wilson, Rocky Cooper and Marcus Ely. Some of the women; Barbara Powell, Sandra Cornett, Benny Wilder and Billy Howard and Yolanda Riley. Those was some of the most fun times of my life. I was young and dumb and they educated me, they really did, in a lot of life. Those were some really fun times. I was 18 years old [when I started working there]. Rocky taught me to ride a motorcycle. 

I didn’t have any electrical training. My dad, he was a good shade tree mechanic. He taught me few things as far as handling tools and being able to use a hammer and nails and things like that. But I got with Mack and he taught me understanding of electricity, hydraulics and water and by the time he got done with me after about two years, I became a Mechanical Technician with Sears and Roebuck, but under his tutelage. 

One night in the wintertime when it got so cold the oil was separating enough we spent over twenty-four hours out keeping people in heat. Yeah, man we were killed. Those were hard times but they were fun times.

I have a funny story about Mack. Me and Marcus had been up to deliver a television and we got back and Mack was out in the parking lot. He had been working on a go cart. We just passed by him and he said “you know you can’t get one of these things to turn over.” And he went out on the parking lot and making donuts with that thing and it hung in a jagged edge on that concrete. It went up about ten feet in the air and came down on top of him. Me and Marcus had to go out and pick that thing up off of him. I said, “Man, I thought you couldn’t turn one of these things over.” 

Raising kids in Lynch, Benham and Cumberland [there’s] not a better place in the country I don’t think than to raise kids than there. I have raised a family there. The Appalachian values were God first, then family and to treat your fellow man like you want to be treated. And that is the way our mom and dad brought us up, that is the way your mom and dad brought you up. 

If your family or your parents weren’t around and you were getting out of line, somebody else’s mom and dad put you in your place. And then your mom and dad thanked them for doing it. They didn’t go jump on them for doing it. They thanked them for letting them know that your child was out of line. And the teacher did the same thing. We had great teachers, teachers that had family values and high moral values and not only that but they were great teachers too. It made a world of difference growing up in that area and in that time. 

African American and growing up there was also, you know, it wasn’t perfect, you had a few problems from time to time, but for the most part everybody got along just great. It was sort of like a melting pot that started back before I was born when you had the blacks that came up from the south, from Alabama, Mississippi and Georgia and places like that. You had Germans and Jewish people and Italians and Hungarians that came down from the North East up in New Jersey and New York. And they melted there. 

My dad worked in Alabama when he was a kid in the coal mines. He said they made two dollars a day and he said if they had to mine rock before they got to the coal, they didn’t get anything for it. My dad was about fourteen or fifteen years old, and his cousin said that they had heard in Harlan County, Kentucky, that everybody made the same wage for the same work and they made as much as twelve dollars a day. So he said he was leaving and going to Kentucky. My dad told his mother, he said, “my cousin is going to Kentucky,” they were all in their thirties and he said “I’m going with them.” He was the youngest one and they come up in an old thirty something Chevrolet or Ford that had a rumble seat, and because he was the youngest he had to ride up in the rumble seat. But his mother had saved up five dollars, and he said that she gave him that five dollars. So he came to Kentucky and this is where he spent the rest of his life. He loved it, he loved it here. 

There was US Steel in Lynch, there was an International Harvester in Benham and there was a Scotia or Blue Diamond Coal Company up the river and all of them were good coal companies to work for but US Steel from all the information I had gathered and from all that I saw was by far the best. They provided the best of everything. 

The big store there, the big company store, in all of my travels I have never seen a bigger company store than the one there at Lynch that US Steel had. They had tailor made suits for the men and they had the best materials and dresses for the women and the furniture was of the best. Now when you look back on that situation and when you really boil it down, it was a form of communism because they really owned you. You bought everything from their store, they paid you with their money, you lived in their houses, their plant protection or security was the police force. If you didn’t abide by their laws and their ways, if a man didn’t work right or didn’t treat his family right he would come out of the mines and his furniture and stuff was sitting outdoors. He had to leave, which probably good anyway, if he didn’t treat his family right. It was a form of communism. 

US Steel was the best company in that area to work for. My dad loved working for US Steel. He loved working as a union UMWA employee when the union came along. He just loved Lynch, Benham and Cumberland. 

(After Sears) I worked for a coal company. I have been underground several times but I worked outside. I worked as the warehouse clerk, warehousing. I worked as they called it Office Services Manager. I took care of all the office machines, bought all of the office furniture and office machines and hired the contractors to do all the work on the company buildings. It was a really a good time, and a good job, it really was. 

I am retired now. I ride my motorcycle and do home projects for Deb (his wife). She keeps me busy. Her dad is kind of sick, kind of ailing right now. He retired as a foreman for US Steel and Arch and he is ailing right now and has to have somebody with him twenty-four hours a day. So between me and my wife, and my brother-in-law and his wife and my daughter and some friends we spend twenty-four hours a day with him.

[Media Perception of Appalachia] It used to be really bad, but I think it’s getting better. They used to always show the worst of housing; they would seemingly, intentionally find the most uneducated person that they could find in Appalachia to interview, which is not right. Not everybody in the city is educated and not everybody in Appalachia is educated. But they all have the right to live their lives the way they see fit. There are some really, really intelligent people in Appalachia, whether they’ve got a college degree or a high school degree, some really intelligent people. I look back on Mack Wilson and my dad, my dad didn’t have a lot of education but he was one of the smartest people I have ever been around. And Mack, I don’t know if he had much more than a high school education, but he was a genius. He was genius and just good people.

I am a hillbilly and glad to be one. It means that there is a union of people that grow up in the mountains that had pride in where they grew up and pride in the people they grew up with. I could have gone anywhere and lived. I would never be comfortable anywhere in the world but those mountains there in Harlan County. When we go off to a city, I’m lost from the first time my foot hits the city ‘til I leave. Even with GPS I am not comfortable trying to get around. I know where I want to go; anywhere there in Harlan County, I don’t even know the names of the streets. I can go anywhere. 

The site of the mountains is like a drink of good cold fresh water. I don’t mind going to visit New York City, or the Grand Canyon or Yosemite or Florida, but after a week, a week and a-half, two weeks at the most, I’m ready to head back to the hills of Harlan County. My children pretty much feel the same way, even though my son has had to move away, because of work, but he still loves coming back home to the mountains. My daughter, she still lives there but she works in Lexington. She is a RN and she does the four day, twelve hour shift thing, and she drives back from Lexington to Harlan County.

The saddest time [in my life] was when my dad passed away in 2000. Out of all family we’ve had a history of long livers. My mom will be ninety-five years old the twenty-seventh of this month and she is still going pretty strong. She is still pretty spicy, you get out of line and she will tell you where to get back. My Dad lived to be eighty-five. All of my brothers and sisters are living. My aunts and uncles lived away from here, and now I have lost aunts and uncles. That has probably been the lowest point in our lives. 

You know there was a time when coal mining went down as far as jobs; I thought possibly I would have to leave. Fortunately that worked out and was able to remain there in Harlan County. A lot of friends that decided to move they tried to get me to move, saying well it was time to get out of here. I thought well, my dad stayed here all of his life and managed to make it and raise his family. I think this is going to be the place for me so I stayed here until I was able to retire. And I am still here.”

Paul Kuczko

Paul Kuczko, Retired, Born and raised in Norton, Virginia. Now lives in Lee County, Virginia: 

“I’ve loved it here. I’ve had opportunities to leave numerous times, but the mountains just always felt like home. I look at it like a quilt tucking me in at night, them mountains are. I just always liked it here and wanted to stay here. Glad I did. 

I’ve retired now and just been helping my 79 year old neighbor farm his thousand acres of land. I was Director of the Lonesome Pine Office on Youth Delinquency Prevention and Youth Development program. Worked with a lot of kids and foster children and abused children and taught entrepreneurship programs. Started a record company and just whatever we could figure out to try to get the kids off the couch and doing something. 

Went to East Tennessee State in Johnson City, Tennessee. Immediately came back and needed a job, so I wrote the grant and started the office on youth.

It was interesting. We started back in 1980. Wise County, Virginia had the highest teen pregnancy rate in the state, one of the highest infant death rates in the world and by working with all the agencies and individuals and concerned citizens, slowly over the years we were able to work on the high end statistics and get infant death rates down.

Still it’s too high for the nation, but it’s average with the nation. We brought the school dropout rate down to one of the lowest in the state, and teen pregnancies to one of the lowest levels. We had a lot of accomplishments that we can look back on and say things did work out and did get better for the young folks. 

We’ve had a bunch of success stories. We tracked these kids from when we worked with them, until six years later. Some of them are 22, 23, 24 (years old) and it’s called, Graduated Sanctions. 

The idea there is if a young person messes up, you need to deal with it quick. Waiting six months for court is not the answer. So we had a program where we could take a [driver’s] license away, and then if they started doing better, then we could give it back to them. Then if they did better we could give them $100 a week. You know, some kind of reward. And so it’s kind of like steps, if you think of it that way. 

You mess up, you go back down to some punishments, but if you do good, then you get rewarded and you go back up the steps to the second floor. And by tracking that, we hit 96% of all the people we worked with did not get in trouble again for the next six years. That’s a very high success rate. Most of the time, your recidivism rate’s any where from 25 to 50%. But it shows that by doing it fast, and not having so many kids that you can’t keep up with them, that it works. 

Some of them actually went to community college and nobody in their family had ever gone to college --- so a lot of successes. I also found out, believe it or not, that the best punishment seemed to be picking up trash! If we made them go out and pick up trash and made them wear the road reflecting outfit and all, something about their peers seeing them, they did not want to do it again. If we put them in detention or locked them up that didn’t seem to bother them near as bad as having them out picking up trash. I think they think everybody they know’s driving by looking at them and knows it’s them! But it sure does seem to be a good punishment not to have them repeat again, whatever their problems were.

Some of the worst ones [stories/cases] were, I remember, we had a girl who was 13-years-old, she’d been sexually molested and we could not get a doctor to examine her. The law requires if you bring a child to a doctor, then they report it, but there’s no law that says they have to help you. 

We needed the tests done to prove the rape, if you will, and then to make the report. The doctors said they hated doing it and actually the little girl was on the ER table for three hours while the hospital administrators and lawyers argued over whether they needed to do it or not. We took her to Bristol, Tennessee and finally found a doctor willing to do the test only if we swore to him he wouldn’t have to come to court. 

That got us started on trying to figure out what the problem was, and we met with all of the medical community people. Basically, they said when they get involved they know it’s going to be a nightmare. They’re going to waste a whole day in court, not testify, have to come back three times and it just messed up their practice so bad they just didn’t want to get involved. 

Then, we went to the lawyers and the Virginia State Bar Association meeting and explained to them what was going on and they said ‘well, we can work something out.’ We agreed that we would do depositions with the doctors, that way they didn’t have to waste all that time for court. And then of course, when court came, if they had to be there, they wouldn’t be called until an hour before they were needed and they would be used as soon as they got there as a witness, and then let go back to work. And we worked that out and ended up having four doctors that volunteered half a day every week to work with these kids. 

At that time, we just had a terrible problem with losing sexual abuse cases because there were no witnesses, no evidence, and no doctors’ testimony. And after that, we got one of the first sexual abuse trauma teams in Virginia, probably on the East Coast, organized and working with the kids. Basically, once you have the evidence you get a confession, and then with the confession you don’t have to have [to go to] court, so you save everybody’s time. So, that was a great success story. 

[On what makes Appalachian culture special] I think it goes back to that diversity, back in the beginning. If you go back and look at some of the cemeteries, like over at Benham, Kentucky, there’s 22 different nationalities you could name right off the bat. People talked like New York was a melting pot but it really wasn’t. The different nationalities stayed in their little part of town but here in the coal camps it really was a melting pot. Even if the coal camps were segregated a little bit those miners still had to work with each other. And they couldn’t communicate because of the different languages but they had to learn how to stay alive.

Music was a big part of that. I’m convinced that’s where this, what’s classified as a mountain sound, really came from. The Czechoslovakians brought the mandolin in here, that wasn’t a mountain instrument. Blacks brought the banjo and they were brought in to help break the union up. They didn’t know that, but that’s what was going on. And so that melting pot—they couldn’t communicate but they could play music and they would get together after work and on weekends and play baseball and play music. I think that’s what made the culture here still so unique. 

There’s probably not another spot in the country where that many different immigrants came together that couldn’t talk to each other, but made a living and made it work. You can go back to John L. Lewis, and he actually published a union newsletter in 20 languages so that the different nationalities could read and keep up with what the union was doing. 

I think John Fox, Jr. and The Trail of Lonesome Pine perpetuated, actually started, a lot of those myths about barefoot and pregnant, dumb and don’t bathe and all that. That’s the first million selling short story novel in American history. It was also the first movie made in Technicolor with Henry Fonda and all those big stars. I think just because so many people read it as a short story, they believed it, and it stuck. 

Actually [hillbilly was first used as a] commercial term in music. The Stoneman Family was in New York being recorded [about] 15 years before the Carter family was ever heard of. But they didn’t have a name so the record company was like, ‘we need a name to put on the record.’ [The Stoneman’s] said, ‘well I guess we’re just a buncha hillbillies’. 

So The Hillbillies were one of the first big time recording bands that came out [of] Frieze, Virginia. And that was the first time [the word hillbilly] was commercially used. 

Several years ago, a bunch of us who love old timey and mountain music, started looking around, and we just noticed that there wasn’t a lot of young people playing old timey music; especially fiddles. We were looking around and we only knew of about two young people playing the fiddle. That kind of helped start the Mountain Music School that they’ve had now for 20 something years. Same as Cowan Creek over in Kentucky. 

We also have the program right after school for elementary school kids twice a week and they can come in and play guitar, banjo and fiddle. Now you see all these little kids getting off the bus carrying their instruments and that’s pretty great. And there’s more young bands playing old timey than I would have ever dreamed would happen. Music’s important in people’s lives I think. 

The schools’ cutbacks and too much [importance] put on the testing and not enough on talent and skills… that’s one thing I notice with working with delinquent kids. Some of them weren’t always the smartest, but they were some of the most talented people I’ve ever met for young people. They can fix anything or make anything or play anything. 

I’ve just always had it [love for music]. It’s funny because I have brothers and sisters and one brother that played the piano, but the rest of them probably never turned a radio on other than news. And I can remember hearing Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan singing ‘Lay Lady Lay’ and I said ‘now that’s something special.’ And I ran out and bought that album. I was nine years old and I’ve still got it and that was the first album I remember buying. To me, it’s like poetry and literature all in one, and it rhymes and has a good beat and you can tell a great story in three minutes. 

For Wise County’s sesquicentennial, we put together a coal mining book of pictures of all the coal camps. As I was doing it, I was like ‘man we’ve got to add a CD to this’ because there’s just so many great coal mining songs from the area, and about the area. As you start doing the research you find out there’s not just a few great coal mining songs but over 161 coal mining songs. 

We [spent] two years going through every coal song we could get ahold of, and get permission to use. We put together a two CD set, Music of Coal, two hours and twenty minutes of sad songs about growing up hard in the coal mines, and a 78-page liner notes. Luckily enough, that was nominated for three different Grammy Awards for Best Historical Album, Best Packaging and Best Liner Notes. We didn’t win any but by being nominated we helped to sell a whole lot. 

Then we used the money we made from that to start Lonesome Records and the idea there was to help the youngsters play and to be able to get their first cd done so that when they went to churches and town halls and community events and sang and everybody’s all, ‘oh that’s great, that’s great,’ people could give them ten bucks and give them a little bit of gas money by having a CD to sell. 

One of the first bands we did was Noah Wall and the Barefoot Movement; Noah Wall’s the lead singer, at the time they were in East Tennessee State. I’m happy to report they've made it. They're in Nashville now and they just played at the Kennedy Centre in Washington DC a month or so ago, they're booked all the time and they did like you’d think they do. They hopped in a van after school and drove from Florida to New York up and down the east coast and played anywhere they could make a nickel or a dime. Slept on friends’ floors and all that until they finally now are getting to where they’re getting paid pretty good per gig, per show. So that’s been a good success. 

I tell ya the singing around here’s just amazing, and with no full time music programs in the schools to speak of, and very few places where you can go to take singing lessons or, more advanced piano or whatever. How talented some of these kids are just totally on their own. But it’s just amazing the talent I see; both singing-wise and picking-wise. 

Sometimes, especially when it’s a self talent like that, and especially being from the mountains, we don’t like to brag on ourselves a whole lot so somebody’s gotta get behind them and push them a bit and encourage them that they can do it and that they do have a good sound and they do need to share them god given talents with the world. 

I’ve said that before but I think I’m right this time (about coal not coming back). I realize, especially if you’ve got a mining job, you’re not going to be able to beat that. And for these folks, poor guys that are losing, it’s just tragic. 

On the other hand, when you write grants for 30 years, and you study statistics, you realize that if you have a coal truck running through your county, you're a distressed county. So much of the wealth is actually extracted to New York or Lexington or, in Virginia’s case, Philadelphia, where Penn Virginia owned all the mineral rights. 

And other than the mining jobs, which again aren’t as many as they used to be because the technology and the long wall miners, if you look at counties that aren’t mining counties, maybe agriculture, they don’t have 30% poverty and 60% of the kids on free lunch and on and on and on. It’s only counties that have coal trucks running through them. So from a big picture you’ve got to say coal is not really the economic stimulus that we think it is. 

If you go back to ’61 when Kennedy was President and the minimum wage was started, it was 60 cents. To have the same buying power today, that that 60 cents had, the minimum wage would have to be $18.75. So a lot of folks I know are making 20-dollars and hour and think they’re doing good. They’re really not having the buying power that their grandparents or parents did in the ‘ 60s. That’s something to think about. 

I remember back in the ‘70s I was taking slides of courthouse squares in the south. I was somewhere in Georgia, [and] there was this big statue of a boll weevil, and I thought ‘now that’s interesting.’ So I went over and read the marker and, in a nutshell, it said thank God for the boll weevil. Had it not come and kicked our ass for three years and destroyed the cotton, we’d all still be picking cotton. But because that happened, their economy had to diversify, and now they still have cotton of course, but they do other things and there are other jobs. That comes to mind whenever I think about Appalachia and its current coal crisis. 

Wise County’s educational level has not changed since the ‘50s. If you’re 25-years-old and above, half of the adults do not have a high school diploma. The ones that graduate now move away, so when the next census comes they’re not there to say ‘yeah, I got my high school diploma.’ The ones that have been here a long time were the ones keep checking the box and saying ‘nope, I didn’t do it.’ When you have less than 50% of your population with a high school diploma, then you’re trying to recruit in, compared to the Research Triangle with 80% college graduates, you’re going to lose every time. 

We got to make sure we can start getting kids out of school, hopefully get some of them to stay here, [and] that’s why I’m a big believer in local entrepreneurship. Kids can be job creators and not job takers. The sooner we realize that and help young people start businesses that we know we need around here, and make it a little easier and do some mentoring so we can help them with their needs legally or whatever, tax wise, government wise, I think we can see a big change with local folks, because they’re the one’s who’ll be here through thick and thin. 

And a lot of folks, like in Lee County, they’re coming back, they’re the ones that moved to Detroit in the ‘50s and ‘60s and even ‘70s. They’ve retired and they're coming back to either the old home place, or buying a piece of land near it. For one, the crime rate’s lower and it’s home and all that. A lot of them, they don’t have children, so it’s not helping the education system as far as numbers, so you can have more people moving in but your school population keeps declining. And that’s what we’ve noticed in Lee County. And that has to be older folks that have already raised their children coming in. 

I think the talent base here is just amazing and I think tourism can be a piece of the pie. It’s not going to solve all of our problems, but this place is special. I can remember going to a meeting 30, 40 years ago, Senator Bird of West Virginia was speaking, and he was saying what can make our tourism work in West Virginia is that we don’t have interstate highways and people want to get on the back roads and drive. And I think they pulled it off in West Virginia. Look at Pocahontas County, you look at all the rafting, last number I saw was 60 million dollars just off the white water rafting. That’s a pretty good chunk of change in any community. And then when, again, locals can make that money and keep it that’s even the best situation. 

I know the chamber in Wise County gets 11 calls a week for bed and breakfasts. There’s none in Wise County. So that’s [an] unmet need right there.

The history in these mountains is just amazing when you look at it. City of Norton built a wooden town hall. They really built it cause it would seat 5000 people and Billy Sunday, who at the time was the Billy Graham of the preachers, but was anti-union, so the coal companies brought him in to preach how you were going to hell if you joined a union. I’m serious. It’s in one of these books. 

It was a wooden structure, and it later burnt down, but besides building it for Billy Sunday to come tell about going to hell and the union, they showed movies there. And there were only two movie theatres in New York City at the time. So here’s little old Norton with a couple thousand people that they had a movie theatre when the city, big city with several million, only had two. And that’s always blown my mind. And then just the whole area, Middlesboro, Cumberland Gap, first golf course in America was built there. Nine hole golf course there in Middlesboro. And that’s because the British who came there to mine coal wanted to play golf. That golf course is still there, and I think it’s amazing. 

The one problem [with] education right now, and I think it’s why we’re losing in the United States, is that we’ve got too much focus on individual skills. The European model is experiential education. You work in groups of four and five, realizing that some people are better at math, science or English or whatever, but everybody shares their skills. Then you look at the problem and everybody talks about it, and you take different ideas on how to solve it and then you reflect on it after it’s over. 

When you do that, your brain remembers about 80% of that. In the American education system, even the smartest people remember about 3% of what’s thrown at them. That’s pretty bad. We know that the experiential education model they’re using in Europe works. And then we keep wondering why we’re 18th, 19th in geology and math and science and all that. Well, maybe we need to look at how we’re teaching, which is an old model based on an Agrarian society when everybody farmed. 

The book I’m working on right now is a history of Wise County’s one and two roomed schools. Wise County had 160 one and two roomed schools. Kids could literally walk from about anywhere and have an opportunity. And the curriculum, when you go back and look, they were teaching philosophy and geography and geometry and just all kinds of stuff I never dreamed we were teaching in one, two roomed schools. Wise had the first college set there, and you were required to have two years of Greek and Latin to graduate there. Well, I’ve gone back and looked, and I couldn’t find another college in the state, went through Ivy League schools and all that, [that] were requiring two years of both foreign languages to graduate. And that was mountain people teaching that and taking [those classes]. 

We don’t have the one central thing focusing us for change. And when we have had it, it was outsiders. Johnson and Kennedy wanted to help us. If you go back and read one of my favorite stories [about] when the miners went on strike in West Virginia, they were thrown out of the company housing and they were living in caves. Eleanor Roosevelt hopped in her car and drove by herself from Washington DC to, I think it was War, West Virginia, started bringing food to them and ended up getting the President and other philanthropists to donate money and build a model town for those folks to live in. Here’s the First Lady of the United States hopping in a car and driving by herself. Can you imagine that today? She took care of the poor miners in West Virginia. 

And I think some way to focus there [is on] the fact of the wealth that’s been taken out, not just coal. But I mean in timber, and coal, hell I’ll even say TVA takes the rivers in Virginia, Powell and Clint, and makes cheap electricity, which we don’t get any of. It’s below us that get the cheap juice. They’ve made so many mistakes now I don’t know that it’s cheap anymore but it used to be. When TVA first started, there weren’t even going to put a meter on your house, it was going to be so cheap you just pay $10 a month or whatever and that was it. Somehow, we don’t get it and I never had understood that. 

We’ve exported and used and let other people use everything we had and I think it’s time for the locals, the actual citizens, to take back over and be in charge; especially with methane. 

We’re the Saudi Arabia of methane. Let’s not do the same thing we did with coal and give it away and not do any value added. We should not let a drop of that stuff outta here if it’s not used here. There’s got to be good paying jobs, plants that need methane gas to make whatever they make. And we’ve got to start recruiting those types of energies to the area, and I think we can. 

I’m amazed that now we’ve got the highest poverty level ever and none of the politicians, Democrats or Republicans, are even talking about it. When I was growing up, every politician wanted to try to at least do something about the high poverty rate. Don’t even seem to bother the politicians today [that] 25% of the children are living in poverty and that just sets up all kinds of problems. It’s not to say some of them don’t succeed, but most of them don’t. 

And then we have all kinds of problems on down the road from that. Wise County in the ‘50s had the highest county population in the state of Virginia. And now, not so much. 

Maybe we need to be more selfish. Look at our future and our grandkids and say, ‘hey, what can we do to make sure this place is still here?’ And have some viable employment, because we got to have some jobs. I think if you look at mining as a whole, hell, hundred years ago they weren’t good jobs. [People] were dying left and right and they didn’t care, and they kicked the widow out of the home as soon as the miner got killed. They were 30 cents an hour [jobs], if you were lucky, dollar or two a day. 

And then, John L. Lewis came in and I remember growing up, I thought John L. Lewis and Roosevelt and Kennedy was part of the Holy Trinity because every home I went to, [those were] the three pictures on the fireplace mantle. You had Jesus in the middle, and John L. Lewis on the left and either Kennedy or Roosevelt on the right. And I always thought that was the Holy Trinity of the mountains. They were doing things to help people.”

Kytalynn Brock

Kytalynn Brock - 8 years old - goes to school in Black Mountain, Evarts, Kentucky:

"I like to sing and read some books. Like singing different music. I don’t sing with other kids or in a band. 

[About school] I like reading and writing I love making new friends and I like art. I don’t know, I just do different things like the singing. I wanna be a fashion designer. 

Yeah. It’s fun, sometimes I put on some pants and I go up the mountains and I look at the trees and how beautiful it is in the mountains. I like being in the mountains. There’s all kinds of flowers that grow and I pick them for my mom and dad. Usually I just seen birds chirping, and sometimes I see our state bird, the cardinal. 

I really go outside and play and go swimming. I go fishing. Usually I go fishing with my cousin, Gracie, and her mom and dad. I really don’t know, I think it was a blue gill [biggest fish she ever caught]. I took a picture with it and then I had to throw it back in. I reeled it in and I released it.

Hillbilly? It’s like you’re country, I guess!

He [her dad] works in the coal mines. Usually when he comes home I’m asleep and he tells stories to mom while I’m asleep. Sometimes I wake up early enough and I was late and I missed the bus and I would see him. He looked like all kinds of coal dust on him and sometimes he would come home with a tank top on and I would be like ‘where’s your vest?’ and he would say ‘I took it off when I was working. Yeah, I’d still give him a hug (with all that dirt).

I like singing Taylor Swift. I sing ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ too. I’m proud of it [being a coal miner’s daughter].

[Little brother], Gideon Willis Ray; he’s one. I love it [having a younger brother], sometimes when I wake up he smiles at me and I like doing that because I know that he loves me. 

[On changing diapers] Not a lot! Because, like, mom usually changes his diaper ‘cause she has to change it in the middle of the night or in the morning and I don’t want to because it’s not my surprise! I don’t like it!"

Jared Hamilton

Jared Hamilton - Media Artist, Musician and Promoter, Pikeville, Kentucky:

“Growing up in the mountains is pretty amazing. A lot of time you either watch TV, or work on art, or walking around in the woods, whatever you want to do. Or waste your life on drugs. Those are pretty much your options. 

It’s a very big problem [drugs], but I don’t really see a lot of that problem area. I’m not really around the bad a lot, the bad side, you know. The bad side of boredom, that’s what I’m going to call that.

I like the word, hillbilly. I don’t see it as derogatory, unless it’s being used in a derogatory way. Hillbilly is a nice term to me. Redneck is different. A hillbilly is someone, to me, who enjoys the hills, and wants to live in the hills. And enjoys being in nature, and wants to have a farm, or at least grow some food, even a small garden, or wants to be further away from the city. It’s someone who really just loves this culture and embraces it. You don’t even have to have roots. I think you can become a hillbilly. I think it’s inside of you. There are hillbillies in Oregon, you know. There are hillbillies that are born in New York City, that have to retreat to the hills to be who they are.

I remember the first time I went to the Breaks Interstate Park, and I climbed over the edge of the bannister, and sat on the edge. That moment kind of just changed my life. I had never really felt so small until then, and then coming up to Wiley’s Last Resort also changed my life a little bit. Just being conscious about taking care of your land. Just the way that people go about things.

[The Appalachian stereotype began with media] trying to come in and help, because there was such great poverty down here. They thought they were doing a good, enlightening thing with their journalism, to show how bad it is, so people would feel bad and want to help. But people down here are proud, and they don’t want that help. And that’s only a part of the population that is even considered poor to us. And it offends people that they are lumped into that. I think the media doesn’t have bad intentions, but it comes off that way to people from here. 

Appalachian culture really breeds creative geniuses over and over again, because not a lot of people have a lot of money to go out and do things. And spend a lot of money going on trips, like whatever it is that more wealthy people do with their time. It leaves a lot of free time to be creative, and I think that’s a good thing.

The band’s called Moonshine District. We just started in October, of last year. We just got together and started playing, and it’s been going since then. (I’m not sure about these names.) Maggie Noelle, Katie Didit, Eric Smith, and myself. We have a washtub bass, fiddle, mandolin, and two female vocals. It’s hard to explain the type of music it is. It’s not really Bluegrass, but we’re definitely lumped into Bluegrass, but influences from all over, from funk to soul, to R&B to punk rock, to just like any kind of folk music.

It is mountain music though. Everything definitely draws influence from the old time traditional music. You can’t reproduce that, because we’ve been influenced by so many other things, than what people were that made that original mountain music. I think any music that comes out of here could still be considered mountain music, even if it’s old time or new time. It’s modern mountain music.

I got a guitar when I was twelve, and I never really got that good at it. For one reason, I’m stubborn, and I don’t want to learn other people’s songs. Also, because I was so consumed with having to work, and go to school for so many years. I dropped it for photography, and I did pretty well with that. But once I got my job at Appalshop, which I don’t have that job anymore, I had all this extra time in the evening. I picked up the mandolin, and I’ve been playing mandolin for probably fifteen months. I’ve only really tried to actually understand music, and keys, and scales, in the last year and a half. But it’s all I do. 

A lot of my family’s made money from coal, and definitely mountaintop removal is horrible, but it is what it is. People got to make money somehow, so you offer people who don’t really have that much twenty dollars an hour, they’re going to do what you tell them. You can’t really villain-ize the miner, but the coal companies are definitely evil.

How much more coal is there? How long can that last, if they blow up every mountain? It’s got to run out sometime. It’s not exactly a renewable resource. I don’t really care, if people are making money, and feeding their families. That’s one thing. But it’s definitely leaving, and I think we need to find a way to move on. 

What we’re doing at Wiley’s (a music festival resort on top of Pine Mountain in Kentucky) is a part of it (moving away from dependence on coal), using music to draw people in for nature tourism. Exposing people to the beautiful Pine Mountain with the trick of flashing lights and music. You come to this music festival up here, or any of the things that Jim’s ever put on; you come for the music, and you stay for Mars Rock, and the pond, and the mountain. It’s a different climate than in the valleys. It’s a rain forest up here. It’s a different climate, than in the valleys. It’s a magical place. You come here, and you never want to leave.

If you want to pursue the kind of career that I want to pursue, and make enough money to have a decent life, you’re going to have to go somewhere else to do it. My career, I consider to be photography, and I’m at least going to have to be closer to Lexington and Louisville to be able to get enough work to feed myself with that business. 

I definitely don’t like living in the city. I would much rather be here, but it’s also a double-edged sword, because I’m a social beast. There isn’t that many social opportunities down here. At least, not for the kind of weirdo that I am, who wants [to] go to concerts, and hang out with more artistic types, musical, artsy kind of people. There is a scene for it, but just not as much as I would like. But it’s a double-edged sword, because the fast life of the city wears me out. It makes me grumpy, too.

I went to school at Western Kentucky University, and I got a Bachelor’s in photojournalism. I’ve worked in newspapers in Michigan and Pikeville, Gilbert, West Virginia, and all kinds of different places. I love it, but I’m trying to do magazine work now. It’s what I want to do. I have a bunch of friends that have really good connections, that I’ve never tried to use, because I was teaching, and I really wanted to do that. I just wanted to do something that was more like a non-profit, community servant type thing. I think being an artist is kind of self-serving. I went through a phase where I didn’t want to dedicate my life to doing something that was self-serving, so I wanted to do something that was good for my community. I got a job at AMI, and that program changes kids’ lives, and I loved every second of it, but now that I’ve had a taste of that, I’m going to really push, and see what I can do out in the world.“