Lessons For W.Va. In West Germany's Transition From Coal

The Mountain State isn’t the only place to reckon with the difficulty of transitioning away from a coal economy into something different.

West Germany emerged from World War II as one of the leading coal and steel producers in the world. Then, in the 1960s, oil emerged as a competitor, and the country found itself in the midst of an economic crisis. But there, the emergency prompted a strange and unusual alliance.

“The state government, the regional governments, the trade unions, and the employers, the industrialists, sat together and tried to find solutions to the problem,” said Stefan Moitra, historian at the German Mining Museum in Bochum in the Ruhr Valley — a densely populated valley in West Germany that’s home to five million people.

On the one hand, the coal employers were motivated to cooperate by their revenue losses. “On the other hand,” Moitra said, “it was in the interest of, obviously, the workers but also of the state to have one of the major industrial regions not falling into the darkness.”

Friedrich Heinrich/Rheinland Mine. Courtesy: Betriebsrat Bergwerk West
/
Miners protest against the threat of mass closure in 1997.

This coalition of stakeholders eventually settled on a surprising idea — they agreed to shrink the coal industry. They merged all the coal companies into one corporation, called “RAG Aktiengesellschaft,” formerly known as Ruhrkohle AG. And the government poured lots of money into helping miners retire early. They invested in emerging industries, like auto manufacturing and tourism, to diversify the area’s economy.

They also built universities.

“Until the 1960s, there was no major university in the Ruhr. Today the universities in the Ruhr are one of the major employers,” Moitra said.

It wasn’t easy, but West Germany survived the contraction of coal and steel jobs. Then in the 1990s, the coal industry that was left declined even worse. And once again the coal companies, the government, and the unions sat down and worked out a plan to completely phase out of coal mining by 2018.

Sure enough, three years ago, the last mine in the Ruhr region, and the last “black mine” in Germany, closed.

It wasn’t a perfect solution. The Ruhr area has still faced high unemployment at times.

Workgroup for Infrastructure Policy (WIP), University of Technology Berlin, “Lessons from Germany’s hard coal mining phaseout: policies and transition from 1950 to 2018.”
/

But the earlier transition efforts in the 1960s made this latest shift to close the mines much easier.

No Unified Plan For Appalachia 

West Virginia’s economic future may hinge on what leaders do in the next few years to plan for the next 50.

But politics in the United States are different than in Europe. And when people talk about economic diversification in coal country, there isn’t a clear path forward. Should such an effort be funded by the federal or state government? Or, by private investment?

Earlier this year, West Virginia Del. Ed Evans, D-McDowell, pleaded with his colleagues in the House of Delegates to plan for a transition away from coal.

Courtesy W.Va. State Legislature
/
Delegate Ed Evans is a state lawmaker from McDowell County

“We’ve closed Walmart. We’ve closed Magic Mart. We’ve closed everything. Y’all have no idea what my people go through,” Evans said in a speech on the House floor.

In the 1950s, his county was booming economically, fueled by coal jobs. Now, McDowell County is filled with ghost towns and ranks as one of the poorest in the country.

“I’ve asked for help many times on this floor. What have I got? Failing to plan is failing to plan,” Evans said, urging fellow lawmakers to invest a chunk of the state’s federal COVID-19 aid into helping coal communities plan for an economic comeback.

His request was denied.

How Pittsburgh Dealt With Collapse Of Steel Jobs 

One way to examine this issue is by looking at neighbors to the north.

In Pittsburgh, the collapse of the steel industry in the 1980s prompted existing businesses to retool for a new reality. But it took decades. Economists predicted the decline all the way back in the 1950s, but their warnings were ignored. And the larger companies were the slowest to adjust, said Allen Dieterich-Ward, professor of history at Shippensburg University and author of “Beyond Rust: Metropolitan Pittsburgh and the Fate of Industrial America.”

“The bureaucracies that develop in large corporations are not known for their flexibility and their ability to quickly adapt to new situations,” said Dieterich-Ward.

Smaller companies are more adaptable, and they were a big part of Pittsburgh’s renewal. Aided by lots of government funding, as well as help from philanthropic organizations, entrepreneurs created smaller start-up industries in tech, the arts, and restoration of the city’s historic resources.

“Pittsburgh really [became] a laboratory for what and how to save the past in a way that allows it to be integrated into the future,” Dieterich-Ward said.

Some businesses in West Virginia already are reinventing and reimagining themselves, according to Derek Scarbro, business development director at the Robert C. Byrd Institute at Marshall University in Huntington.

“Companies are definitely more and more interested in learning how they can broaden their base,” Scarbro said.

Photo Mike Friel/ Robert C. Byrd Institute
/
An employee with Vintec Manufacturing creates a camera mount, using a laser cutter at the Robert C. Byrd Institute in Huntington, West Virgnia.. The company, which used to primarily work with the coal mining industry, is pivoting to now sell outdoor cameras.

The RCBI opened 31 years ago with funding from the Department of Defense to assist defense contractors in the region, and to support workforce needs for advanced manufacturing.

Today, it works with large scale businesses, as well as small entrepreneurs. Business owners can use 3D printing and other machines at the center to help revamp their business.

A mining equipment company based in Nicolas County uses the equipment to make mounts for outdoor cameras. “And they’re selling them online and they have done extremely well with that,” said Scarbro. “Talk about a pivot, going from mining equipment servicing to outdoor cameras.”

These are small glimmers of signs that entrepreneurs are moving towards retooling. But many are still reluctant, Scarbro said.

Attracting Investors

Avinandan Mukherjee, interim provost at Marshall University, said he sees an increasing number of venture capitalists looking to Appalachia to invest. “And there is a lot of interest in our part of the country in terms of what these ideas are, and which ones can win.”

When West Virginia Public Broadcasting interviewed Mukherjee in July, he pointed to a company called App Harvest, which specializes in growing hydroponic vegetables on former strip mines and has attracted investors from all over the country. A month after the interview, AppHarvest reported a net loss of $32 million in its second quarter. Following this announcement, stocks in the company plummeted.

Courtesy AppHarvest
/
A farm worker at a hydroponic tomato farm in Kentucky, operated by AppHarvest

West Virginia also falls behind in other aspects of infrastructure, including roads and bridges. One national study gave the state a D. A few communities, like Keystone and Northfork, in McDowell County, even lack access to potable water.

Mukherjee also mentioned Ascend West Virginia as an effort that could have lasting impacts. The program offers virtual workers $12,000 to relocate to West Virginia. About 7,500 people applied to the program this year, and 53 were selected.

Over the next 20 years, Mukherjee said he expects West Virginia to see an increase in virtual jobs like cyber security and software engineering.

Employers are already hiring in these sectors, said Natalie Roper, executive director for Generation West Virginia. But “very often they have job openings and are struggling to get qualified applicants.”

When Roper’s organization created a fellowship program to match qualified employees with employers, half of the jobs were in software development, and most were virtual. That poses a problem in some areas of West Virginia, where there is a lack of high-speed broadband.

According to the West Virginia Broadband Enhancement Council, the Mountain State ranks third-lowest for broadband access, and 30 percent of rural residents are without an internet connection in their homes.

A Bottom-Up Approach 

West Virginia also falls behind in other aspects of infrastructure, including roads and bridges. One national study gave the state a ‘D.’ A few communities, like Keystone and Northfork in McDowell County, even lack access to potable water.

Courtesy American University
/
Priya Bascaran, assistant professor of law at American University

Priya Bascaran, assistant professor of law at American University and director of the school’s Entrepreneurship Law Clinic, said she thinks that without these essentials in place, the state won’t be able to keep people from fleeing.

“If we give them an employable skill, and they don’t have good, safe water, or a decent road, of course, they’re going to take this skill and leave town,” Bascaran said.

Bascaran has worked with communities across the country that are dealing with a hollowing out of jobs, and people.

She said leaders often neglect to ask people what they actually need and want.

“And when you turn that conversation internally, you really see that, maybe, what people really want is a grocery store,” Bascaran said.

She wonders if helping people get grocery stores, or better water infrastructure, could be where economic development begins.

“What if instead of training people to be coders, we trained people to be wastewater engineers, or water system operators,” Bascaran said. “Because there’s a real need for that in West Virginia and greater Appalachia.”

Not Enough Investment In Appalachia

Jim King is the president and chief executive of Fahe, a network of more than 50 nonprofits that funds about $330 million each year in projects throughout Appalachia. But he says much more investment is needed, and he adds that philanthropy and other institutions of wealth lag behind.

“There is a historic disinvestment in West Virginia and Appalachia,” King said. “And not only was the coal taken out, but the wealth went with it. And other parts of the country benefited.”

King estimates that it would take nearly a billion dollars a year just to get West Virginia at the same economic playing field as the rest of the country.

Janet Kunicki/ West Virginia Public Broadcasting
/
Lavender growing in Boone County W.Va. in 2018 on top of a reclaimed strip mine, as part of a grant funded project to train people to become lavender farmers. Follow up reporting by West Virginia Public Broadcasting found that the project did not result in permanent job creation.

Jobs In Mine Land Cleanup

The coal industry in West Virginia has also left behind thousands of acres of land in need of reclamation. In Germany, years of ongoing work to undo environmental damage, and infrastructure decay, have provided needed jobs, said Christian Wicke, assistant professor in political history at Utrecht University in the Netherlands.

Wicke specializes in communities that have moved away from an industrialized economy, like in the Ruhr region of Germany.

“You have to imagine the Ruhr region as is hollowed out like Swiss cheese with lots of mines,” he said. “And it’s incredibly difficult to organize a water system.”

Wicke helped edit a book with Stefan Berger called “Industrial Heritage and Regional Identities,” which explores the connections that heritage has with regional identities.

Wicke said Germany hasn’t buried its coal and steel history. In fact, they’ve built museums about it. Artists have built steel statues on former mining sites, that now attract millions of tourists a year.

“One might argue if you have a good job that the region is more livable than ever before,” Wicke said.

Back at the museum of mining, Moitra, the historian, said that some of the older miners in West Germany say they miss what mining was.

“But they all they are also very aware the times are changing,” Moitra said. “What many find important is that they can be sure that their kids and their grandkids can work and live without having to move away.”

Those words ring true in Appalachia as well, where many worry about sustaining the next generation.

The losses in both places go deeper than economics. Cultural identities are deeply woven into the fabric of societies in places that have predominantly been fueled by coal. Finding new realities and retooling the economic landscape means these cultural ties also have to be reimagined.

“One might argue if you have a good job that the region is more livable than ever before,” Wicke said.

Back at the museum of mining, Moitra, the historian, said that some of the older miners in West Germany say they miss what mining was.

“But they are also very aware the times are changing,” Moitra said. “What many find important is that they can be sure that their kids and their grandkids can work and live without having to move away.”

Photographer, Frank Martin. Photo courtesy Deutsches Bergbau-Museum Bochum
/
The front of a small mine in Neukirchen-Vluyn, Germany, in the early 1980s.

A former miner in the Ruhr region of West Germany told historian Moitra in 2017: “You cannot turn everything into a museum, that’s for sure.”

Said Gottfried Clever, who began working in the coal industry in 1977: “In the beginning we joked with bitter irony: ‘Well, we can create new jobs if we travel the Ruhr region as museum miners. So we’ll all be a museum ourselves. And people can visit us as a vanished reality.’”

Clever worked in several coal mines in the Ruhr, including the Walsum colliery in Duisburg, Consolidation and Hugo in Gelsenkirchen, and Ewald in Herten.

As in Germany it will probably take many decades, or even generations, for Appalachia to get through this transition to the other side — and what that other side looks like is still unknown. But what’s certain is that planning for that future will probably help the state have a better outcome.

In 1986, the city of Essen in West Germany closed its last mine.

Now, 35 years later, this region has a labor participation rate of 71 percent, more than 25 percent higher than West Virginia’s workforce rate of 55.2 percent, the lowest in the United States.

The highest number of employed people in Essen today work in the service sector, followed by manufacturing, forestry and agriculture.

If people in West Virginia decide to follow Germany’s lead, it’ll mean those from different industries and leadership roles agree on a plan. Most importantly, they’ll have to figure out a way to support coal miners, and their families, in the years to come.

Tom Hansell from the After Coal project and West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s David Adkins contributed to this report. 

State Renegotiating Lease With Monroe County’s Sweet Springs Property

A historic springs resort in Monroe County is embroiled in a lease dispute, pitting a local investor against the state of West Virginia.

Founded in 1792, Sweet Springs was once a massive hotel and resort that could hold 300 people. Like the Greenbrier, Sweet Springs was a major destination for upper society tourists during the 19th century. It closed as a resort in the early 1900s, and though several attempts were made to keep it afloat, the property went into receivership in 1930.

Then, the property was used by the state Department of Health and Human Resources as a home for the elderly. The surrounding woods and farmland are still technically owned by the state of West Virginia.

In 2015, Sweet Springs was purchased by investor Ashby Berkley, who created a nonprofit, called the Sweet Springs Resort Park Foundation. Berkley has spent the past several years putting thousands of dollars and volunteer labor towards renovating the property. He had hoped to open it as a hotel by 2022.

But the lease on the 650-acre property surrounding the historic hotel is now being contested. The owner of this property, the state of West Virginia, says Berkley is not holding up his end of a lease agreement, signed in 2017.

Part of the agreement states that Berkeley would develop a viable agribusiness that would benefit the local community. The department hasn’t seen his plan.

This summer, the state Department of Agriculture issued a cancelation of the lease agreement. “I’m very confused about why the hostility is coming so hard from the Department of Agriculture,” Berkley said.

He added that he cannot continue the restoration project of Sweet Springs if he cannot use the property owned by the state.

In an emailed statement, communications manager for the State Department of Agriculture, Crescent Gallager, said his agency “is discussing a new set of terms with the current lease holders before exploring other options for the land.”

Berkley said he will comply with the state and do what officials are asking, but didn’t give any specifics for an agricultural business he envisions on the property. He said he’d like to build tennis courts and a golf course on this land, to serve the historic hotel. After he is able to reopen the Sweet Springs Hotel, Berkley said then he plans to devote time and energy towards developing agribusiness.

The state has given Berkley until the end of September to meet its requests.

As W.Va. Attempts To End Child Care Deserts, Parents Struggle To Merge Work, School, Family

It’s the morning of the first day of school for Megan Hullinger’s two oldest children. She wakes at 6 to prepare lunches and get her four children dressed.

Around 7:30, she packs them all into her car. 11-year-old Tessa, 8-year-old Abby, 3-year-old Nathan, and 1 year old. Gemma, her baby. She drops them each off at a different school, Abby to elementary school, Tessa to middle school, then Nathan at his child care center.

Her last stop before heading into the office is Gemma’s babysitter. Hullinger’s youngest child is on a waiting list to get into a daycare. There are only two options for a registered child care facility in her county, Pocahontas, a rural, mountainous area in West Virginia.

It took nearly three years for Hullinger to get her son, Nathan, a spot. “It’s almost impossible to get a child under the age of two into a registered center,” Hullinger said.

Courtesy Megan Hullinger
/

A year after he first started school, her 3-year-old son is thriving. “He loves it, he loves his teachers,” Hullinger said. “He gets a lot of art time. I found out that he really loves to draw and write. It’s been really great for him, and to be around kids his age has been really great.”

Hullinger is happy with the level of care he’s receiving, and hopes her daughter Gemma will be able to get a spot at the same center. But she says she’ll happily take the first available opening- even if it’s at a school on the other side of her county, which is a thirty minute drive. That would mean an additional two hours on her commute each day.

Hullinger lives in what’s known as a child care desert. According to data from the Center for American Progress, over sixty percent of people in West Virginia live in a child care desert.

“It’s mostly the rural areas of our state,” said Barbara Gebhard, an expert in early childhood education, and a consultant for an initiative called “The Earlier The Better,” which is trying to improve child care in West Virginia. One of its main priorities is to help expand child care in rural regions, so families don’t have to wait years to get into a child care center.

About a quarter of early child care centers in the state closed last year, according to to Dr. Jeffrey, a pediatrician at Charleston Area Medical Center, and one of the people working on “The Earlier The Better” Initiative. Jeffrey worked with researchers at the Benedum Foundation to compile a map that shows the number of child care centers that closed during the pandemic. Their map shows a snapshot in January 2020. In the early months of the pandemic, many child care centers closed, said Jeffrey. Some were able to reopen, but the industry took a big hit in 2020– here in Appalachia as well as across the country.

Jeffrey said their group would love to see the state, or federal government, provide funding to help people open news centers in child care deserts, or work with existing child care directors to expand their businesses, so they can accept more children.

She and other child care advocates with “The Earlier the Better” say they also want to see more child care centers in West Virginia offer better quality education. That would mean staff would have more training in topics like early childhood development, and, ideally, bachelor’s degrees. It would help improve the level of care for all kids, including children with special needs.

More Than ‘Day Care’- Advocates Want Specialized Care With Trained Staff

In Morgantown, West Virginia, Tayrn Moser’s second son was having behavioral problems at his child care centers. He was two.

“He just had these outbursts and because the staff was not educated or trained on how to handle his emotions,” Moser said. “It turned into two to three-hour tantrums.”

The child care center her son was at eventually told Moser they couldn’t continue taking care of her son. She could have gone through the local school system to get him into preschool early– those programs exist in each county in the state, free for parents who have children with special needs.

But Moser found another child care center where staff were trained in occupational therapy, and she asked to be put on the waiting list.

Courtesy Taryn Moser
/

“I knew that this would be the best environment for my son,” Moser said. “And once we got him into this facility, he was able to thrive.”

But it took 16 months before a spot opened up for her son. During that time, she had babysitters and family members help out, but it was a struggle. At times, she considered quitting her job to be able to take care of her son.
“I didn’t want him to be left behind,” Moser said. “And every day, it was such a challenge. It was very, very hard for me to leave him every day. I was scared for my son. I wanted to stay home and I wanted to be with him.”

In addition to not enough spaces available for children, parents also face a high cost of tuition– about $10,000 per year per child enrolled in full-time child care. That’s more than tuition at a community college in West Virginia. This high cost is partly due to ratios– child care centers are required to have one staff for every four children under two years old.

At the same time, a family’s income has to be very low to qualify for any kind of subsidy to help pay. For example, in West Virginia a family of four would be eligible for partial assistance if their income is less than approximately $48,000 a year. For full assistance – meaning the family pays nothing for child care – a family of four would have to make less than approximately $10,300 a year.

Subsidized Child Care For Essential Workers, Regardless Of Income

During the COVID-19 pandemic, several relief packages included funding to support working families, as well as help support the child care industry. One of the biggest things West Virginia did with its COVID relief money was it put it towards paying for child care for essential workers, no matter their income.

The state also changed the way it pays child care centers for subsidized tuition. Previous to the pandemic, if a child was out sick or if their family went on vacation, the child care center didn’t get paid– if that child was receiving subsidized tuition. Now, however, child care centers get paid for the whole month, not by how many days a kid was actually in school.

“It encourages every child care center to accept subsidy and not use that as an excuse not to accept subsidy,” said Dr. Jamie Jeffrey. “So that every single child no matter who were where they are, has access to affordable child care.”

Jeffrey and others in her group put together some of the recommendations for how the state should spend its COVID relief money. They advised the state ’s Department of Health and Human Resources, which is the agency in charge of regulating early child care.

They’re hoping some of the new policies the state put in place during the pandemic will continue as infection rates and concerns drop off.

Their group also recommended that child care programs receive more money per child enrolled in their school. This is because child care centers were already struggling financially to make ends meet even before the pandemic. On top of that, during the pandemic many tried to reduce their classroom sizes, to allow for social distancing, and they had to do a lot more cleaning. All these changes take more staff, so some of the covid relief went directly to child care centers to help them stay afloat financially. It wasn’t a lot of money, but according to Jeffrey, it was enough to help many childcare centers stay open.

Low Wages For Child Care Workers

None of the COVID relief money West Virginia received went directly towards increasing pay for child care workers. Most child care teachers are paid low wages, around $10-$11 an hour, and sometimes, they don’t even earn sick or vacation leave. So retaining qualified staff is a challenge for child care centers.

“It is the worst we’ve ever experienced trying to hire staff,” said Helen Post-Brown, who’s run Sunbeam Early Learning Center in Fairmont, West Virginia for 41 years. “Luckily, we kept our core staff at the center, but we need more than them. And it has been very difficult to first find someone qualified, and then someone willing to work now.”

Post-Brown is another one of the advocates working on “The Earlier the Better” initiative. They’d love to see more funding go towards teachers, making their salaries equivalent to their experience.

She and other child care advocates with the “The Earlier The Better,” Project – are hoping that some of the changes that were implemented during the pandemic can become more permanent. But where the money would come from is not clear.

Right now, Congress is arguing over spending trillions of dollars to boost the country’s infrastructure. President Joe Biden’s “American Families Plan” includes funding for child care. This funding would help, but it would not be enough to fix all the issues that are facing parents and child care workers?

Back in Pocahontas County, it’s 3 p.m. in the afternoon, time for Megan Hullinger to pick up her four kids. Normally, her two older kids walk home, and spend the afternoon with a babysitter. But today— her sitter has to go to a doctor’s appointment, so Hullinger picks up her children a little early.

She says without her family to support her, and neighbors who’ve helped with child care, she doesn’t think she could have kept working while she waits to get her kids into child care.

She picks up her youngest, one-year-old Gemma, first. On this hot August day, Gemma is singing “Jingle Bells.” Then they swing by the elementary school to pick up Abby. Gemma wraps her arms around her 8-year-old sister. They head out to pick up Nathan next, and then Tessa. Then the family drives back up the mountain, to home.

This story is part of a two-part series for Inside Appalachia about child care in W.Va. Read the other story here.

Parents Begin Receiving Federal Covid Tax Credit Payments This Week

About 39 million families across the U.S. — including 346,000 children in West Virginia — are receiving monthly child payments this week from the U.S. Department of Treasury as a part of the federal COVID-19 relief plan.

Families will get about $3,000 per child each month. The money comes from a temporary expansion of the child tax credit — part of President Biden’s COVID relief package enacted in March. The Child Tax Credit is one of the largest spending measures Congress has passed that goes directly to parents.

These payments could reduce child poverty by 43 percent in West Virginia, according to an analysis by the Center on Budget and Policy.

President Joe Biden and most Democrats in Washington are pushing to keep the child tax credit at these levels for four more years.

West Virginia’s congressional delegation is mixed on whether they would support this increased funding.

Republicans lawmakers Sen. Shelley Moore Capito, and U.S. Reps. Carol Miller and David McKinley, and Alex Mooney all say they are reluctant to extend the program. They offered similar statements, saying even though they support the increase to the child tax credit in general, they worry that larger spending packages that Democrats are proposing will hurt working families.

Mooney, Miller and McKinley also added that President Donald Trump’s Tax Cut and Jobs Act 2017 already increased the Child Tax Credit from $1,000 to $2,000 per child.

Democrat Sen. Joe Manchin is the only lawmaker from West Virginia who voted for Biden’s American Rescue Plan, which included additional increases for families. Manchin tweeted on July 14 that he is reserving judgement on the Democrats’ budget proposals until he’s had a chance to review their plan.

Prior to the pandemic, West Virginia had a budget of $ 48 million in federal funding to support child care, according to a spokesperson for the state Department of Health and Human Services. The state has received an additional $249 million in the past year from three COVID relief packages. Much of this funding has gone toward keeping child care centers open.

Pandemic-Fueled Homebuying Puts New Pressure On Appalachia's Real Estate Market

Last summer, 34-year-old Bijoulea Finney and her husband Drew packed up everything they owned in Austin, Texas and headed East. They’d just become the owners of a 75-acre homestead in southwest Virginia, outside Floyd. “I had never been to Virginia in my entire life,” Finney said. “And so we brought the property sight unseen, with only 12 photos on the listing.”

Finney and her husband are part of a trend that realtors are seeing across the country– folks itching to move into larger, less cramped houses, often looking to leave cities in place of more rural communities.

Courtesy Bijoulea Finney
/
Drew and his wife Bijoulea Finney recently moved from Austin Texas to southwest Virginia, with their two rescue dogs. They both work remotely, and were able to purchase a house outside Floyd for about the same amount they were paying in rent in downtown Austin.

Finney’s mortgage is about the same as rent in downtown Austin. She runs her own video production business, and her husband works in the tech industry. They can both do their jobs remotely, and for a couple of years, they’ve been itching to get out of the city. “We were really interested in learning how to live off the land and be more sustainable, have a simpler life.”
At first, it was just this idea they had. Then in March 2020, they began putting their dream into motion, looking at real estate online. “I think when the pandemic hit, it really really got the fire lit under us to want to go and do this,” Finney said.

They had a list of things they knew they wanted. Preferably, not too close to an ocean, to avoid hurricanes. And not the Western U.S., with so much land vulnerable to forest fires. “And it was actually really hard to find something that was affordable, and had land, and had water, and had internet in the United States,” Finney recalled.

When they drew circles around the swaths of land that were the least likely to be hit by climate disasters, they settled on someplace in Appalachia.

Courtesy Bijoulea Finney
/
Home that Bijoulea Finney and her husband Drew bought in southwest Virginia in the summer of 2020. The 75-acre property has access to water, and high-speed internet, both of which were priorities to the couple, who moved from Austin, Texas.

“Being more connected to nature has really helped my state of mind and my health, definitely. And we’ve only been here since June. So this is all still very new to me.”

She and her husband are still learning to live in a rural community. Finney learned how to use a woodstove, via Zoom, from the former homeowner. She says a few of her friends in Texas have been following her journey, and are interested in moving to a rural community, too. And she’s met at least three people in Floyd who have recently moved there from out of state.

“I do see a smaller kind of back-to-the land movement happening, like it did in the ‘60s and ‘70s,” Finney said.

Courtesy Bijoulea Finney
/
Bijoulea Finney is raising chickens at her new home outside Floyd, Virginia.

A hundred miles north, in Lewisburg, West Virginia, Erin Gutierezz and her husband are getting settled into their house, which they purchased in January. “It’s twice as big as what our house was in in Florida.”

Gutierezz was a teacher, and when the pandemic hit, she decided to retire early, since she has some medical complications. Then, tragedy hit. She and her husband lost their son in a motorcycle accident. Soon after, Gutierezz’s mother died from COVID-19. These losses made her question a lot about her life.

“I realized that you just don’t know in this life, what’s going to happen. You have to take those risks in and make it what you want it to be,” Gutierezz said.

Courtesy Erin Gutierrez
/

She and her husband decided to move closer to their daughter and her family in Thomas, West Virginia. Their house in Florida sold the day it went on the market. Her husband drove to West Virginia, put a bid on a house he liked, and they moved the next month. So far, she loves it. Lots of trees surround her house. Cows graze in a nearby pasture. Deer wander onto their property.

The town where they bought their home, Lewisburg, is one of the more popular destinations in the state, but for the first time ever, every geographic region in the state is experiencing a housing shortage, said Raymond Joseph, CEO of the West Virginia Association of Realtors. “People want to come to West Virginia right now. We’re seeing that all over the state.”
Many are from out of state, inspired by the pandemic to want more space. Some are buying second homes in West Virginia. “They look at this and they say, ‘hey, I can go buy some land, I can have a house. If I ever get in another situation like this where I’m on quarantine and jump in my car, I can drive to West Virginia go to my other house,’” Joseph said.

Many of these homebuyers are energized by access to hiking and forests where they can go four-wheeling, he added. They don’t want to feel cramped in a small apartment in the city, if a pandemic ever forces them to go into lockdown in the future.

But this real estate boom is putting the squeeze on some residents here, who are now feeling priced out of the housing market in West Virginia. Olivia Morris has been struggling to find her dream home in West Virginia’s New River Gorge. She said she wants to stay in her home state, but she’s questioning if she can afford it. She loves the area for its rock climbing, its swimming and hiking, and her dream was to save enough money to buy a small home in Fayetteville.

Craig Hudson
/
31-year-old Olivia Morris wants to stay in her home state of West Virginia, and her dream was to save enough money to buy a small home in Fayetteville. But after a pandemic-fueled real estate boom in the New River Gorge has driven up housing prices, now she’s questioning if she can afford it.

“You have a great downtown and main street, lots of different things to do, places to eat by just walking down the street, or riding your mountain bike through the woods to get there,” Morris said.

In the past several years, Fayetteville’s housing market became pricey, at least compared to housing prices in most of West Virginia. A home in Fayetteville costs an average of $160,000; across the state it’s $113,000, according to Zillow.

Then when the pandemic hit, Morris said it felt like things just went nuts. “And now you have people who are coming in and just like buying a property left and right, and it hurts.”

Now she’s looking at communities outside Fayetteville, hoping to find something in her price range– about $70,000. She understands why people would want to move to this area. A lot of her professional work is focused on helping more young people stay in the state.

“It is really good for West Virginia that people are moving here,” Morris said. “But it also is hard, and it’s like, two things can exist at the same time. And those are the two realities that are existing for me.”

Teen Finds Hope With Foster Family After Years of Abuse At Home

J.J. Cayton was placed in foster care when he was 12 years old. He was living in Braxton County with his father when a worker with child and protective services arrived at his home late on New Year’s Eve. He recalls his dad had been drinking, and the cops ended up at the house.

“And they took me to the DHHR [office] in Braxton County,” Cayton recalls. “I think I probably slept on the floor on some chairs, to be honest.”

Afterward, Cayton was placed with a foster family. He was lucky. According to the state Department of Health and Human Resources, out of every 10 teenagers in foster care in West Virginia, four end up being sent to a group home, a psychiatric hospital, or a shelter. Only about 50 percent are sent to live with a foster family.

After spending a little time in this foster home Cayton was returned to his father’s house in Braxton County, which is where he wanted to be. “It’s where I was raised for a long part of my life. I knew he needed me.”

But he wasn’t safe. Cayton’s dad physically abused him. “It would get to the point where I was afraid to go to sleep at night when he was angry.”

Time and again CPS returned to take Cayton away. He could have been sent to various group homes, or shuffled from place to place. Instead, he was consistently placed with Jill Cooper, and her family.

Janet Kunicki/ WVPB
/
J.J. Cayton sits with his foster mom, Jill Cooper, and his therapy dog Pepper, on the Glenville Stage College, where he is a sophomore studying business.

“After J.J. had been with us, the first time we kind of built a relationship with the judge,” said Jill Cooper, Cayton’s foster mom. “So when he was back the second and third time the judge actually called us directly and say, ‘Hey, you know, are you willing to take him back?’”

Cayton formed a bond with the Coopers. With them, he had a home base he could return to, again and again, while the rest of his life continued to be topsy-turvy.

He kept in contact with his dad and still had hopes they would be reunited. Then things went downhill quickly. First, in 2015, his dad’s home flooded.

“My dad went back there after it had been renovated slightly, but I’d still say it was unfit to live in,” said Cayton. “My dad had also gotten pneumonia and COPD during this part of his life.”

Not long after the flood nearly destroyed their home, Cayton’s dad passed away. His birth mom, lives in the Philippines. Cayton came with his dad to the U.S. when he was two. He says he doesn’t have a relationship with his mom.

The Coopers offered to let him stay with them — permanently.

“My foster dad said, ‘We’d really like it if you’d stay with us,’” Cayton said. “Their kids and their animals liked me, and I liked them and their animals liked me. so it was the place I was the most comfortable in. I felt like it was the best course for me to go down.”

This was five years ago. Even though he’s aged out of foster care, the Coopers are his legal guardians. But he said it can be tough to be a foster child, in someone else’s family.

“They’re very involved with their own family activities,” said Cayton. “I respect their family and their family loves me, but I’m not exactly a part of the family. So I feel a little bit uncomfortable with family events and stuff and I just keep to myself for the most part, but I do love them. I respect them. And I appreciate them for trying to incorporate me.”

Despite the occasional awkwardness of family gatherings, Cayton said he’s doing much better now as a young adult coping with the trauma of his father’s abuse. Back when he was younger, his foster parents took him to a counselor, but he would never speak with them.

Recently, he began going to a therapist again. “So that has helped a lot,” said his foster mom, who persuaded him to talk with someone.

Through therapy, Cayton decided he wants to help other foster children, and focus on getting kids into safe homes when they are aging out of foster care. He volunteers with the West Virginia Coalition to End Homelessness. He made a short video for the group to share his story.

Working to End Youth Homelessness in WV

Today, Cayton is a sophomore at Glenville State, studying business. His therapy dog, a black lab named Pepper, wags her tail beside him and presses her head against his chest.

Cayton gives her a sip of his water from his water bottle, and she laps it up and returns his affection with a kiss. “Pepper makes me feel less lonely and constantly reminds me that she loves me because she just enjoys my company,” Cayton said. “Her love and loyalty are limitless, and she takes care of me. She is like my little baby, and I’m so excited to watch her grow up.”

This story is part of an episode of Inside Appalachia that features several young people who were former foster care children.

Exit mobile version