In West Virginia and many other states, there’s a court of second chances; a court-monitored drug treatment program designed to help people stay clean and out of jail. In this episode of Us & Them, host Trey Kay explores how treatment courts work for adults and juveniles. This episode was first released in December 2022, and since then has received a regional Edward R. Murrow award from the Radio Television Digital News Association for best podcast.
This episode of Us & Them was first released in December 2022, and since then has received a regional Edward R. Murrow award from the Radio Television Digital News Association for best podcast. We’ve updated the episode and want to share it with you again now.
In West Virginia, there are nearly 50 specialized court programs designed to help teens and adults kick their drug addictions. Drug courts divert people away from incarceration into a rigorous, court-monitored treatment program. They are intense experiences, some more than a year long. Participants are drug tested regularly and require monitoring devices.
Graduation rates across the country show success rates from 29 percent to more than 60 percent. There are many supporters within the justice system, but critics say drug courts only work with the easiest first-time offenders and don’t take violent offenders or sex offenders. Some drug courts require a guilty plea before someone can participate, which can limit a person’s options if they don’t make it through the program.
In this Us & Them episode, host Trey Kay talks with people about this court-designed approach to sobriety that began nearly 50 years ago when the first drug court opened its doors.
This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the Just Trust, the West Virginia Humanities Council, the CRC Foundation and the Daywood Foundation.
Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.
Joanna Tabit, a Circuit Court Judge in Kanawha County, W.Va., has been at the helm of a juvenile drug court for the past six years.
Courtesy PhotoSheila Vakharia, deputy director of the Department of Research and Academic Engagement at the Drug Policy Alliance, a national advocacy organization, describes the organization’s mission as “working to end the war on drugs.”
Courtesy PhotoGregory Howard is chief circuit judge in Cabell County, W.Va. and oversees the Adult Drug Court.
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingKerwin Kaye, a scholar who has studied the effectiveness of drug courts, is a professor at Wesleyan University in Connecticut and author of a book called “Enforcing Freedom,” about drug treatment courts in America.
Credit: Wesleyan UniversityAdam Fowler speaks to those gathered in Judge Gregory Howard’s courtroom in Cabell County, W.Va. as he graduates from the Drug Court Program. Fowler told Us & Them host Trey Kay, he had tried to recover from substance use disorder many times before with no success. “I was doing it for all the wrong people. I was just doing it to make the judge happy … to make my probation officer happy. This time I did it for myself,” he said.
Fowler told Kay his new commitment to turn his life around came after an overdose that left him in a coma. “I had to learn to walk and talk again. And from that moment on, I just knew there’s more to life than death,” he said.
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingRobin Sullivan, a support specialist with the people in the Cabell County, W.Va. Drug Court Program, graduated from treatment court in 2019. She told Us & Them host Trey Kay she started using drugs when she was 13.
“My mom is an addict. She was one of the first people who I started using with. And as a child, we don’t ever think that our parents are going to steer us in the wrong direction. But, you know, sometimes people make a choice. Some people, you know, eventually it does become a choice. Some people are born into it,” Sullivan said.
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingJan Rader, former fire chief in Huntington, W.Va., was a central figure in the critically-acclaimed Netflix documentary “Heroin(e).” She now leads Huntington’s Council for Public Health and Drug Control Policy.
Hunger and poverty are universal challenges, but in the U.S., for more than 50 years, support programs like SNAP, or Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, have provided help to those in need. On this Us & Them, host Trey Kay talks with three West Virginians — a retiree, a mom and a lawmaker — who all say that nutritional support has made a difference in their lives.
More than 12 percent of Americans, or 42 million people, need help getting enough food to eat.
In West Virginia, that number is about 18 percent. That help comes from a federal program called SNAP — the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, formerly called food stamps. The Mountain State is one of the top recipients of SNAP benefits — nearly 45 percent are older adults or families with someone who’s disabled, while nearly 60 percent are families with children.
The government’s food support program actually has its roots in McDowell County, West Virginia where it began as a pilot project in the 1960s. Since then the program has reduced poverty and hunger across the nation. Today, SNAP gets caught up in political debates and election cycles.
On this Us & Them episode, host Trey Kay talks with three people, a retiree, a mom and a lawmaker who all say that nutritional support has made a difference in their lives.
This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council, and the CRC Foundation.
Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.
Reenie Kittle, who’s 74, from Harding, W.Va., is a widow and retired with a physical disability. She does what she can to get by on a meager fixed income.
“How do I live on a fixed income? Very scarcely,” Kittle told Us & Them host Trey Kay as they sat in the living room of her converted double-wide home. “So I have to buy pellets for my wood stoves in the winter months. I have to pay the water bill… all my bills. I don’t go out very much ‘cause I can’t afford the gas. With my income and my bills of $1,300 a month, I am lucky if I have $200, maybe $250 left over to try to find food. My neighbor sometimes will bring me supper, and that’s been a blessing to me. They try to help me food-wise as much as they can. For SNAP, I qualify for $23 a month. It is nothing. They just tell me that they’ve reviewed my case and that’s as much as they can do. They have no extra money to give and that’s it.”
Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingEach month, Reenie Kittle heads to the grocery store in Elkins, W.Va. with $23 from the federal government’s SNAP program. SNAP stands for Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program — it used to be called “Food Stamps.”
Reenie beelines past the produce section, beyond the tower of packaged strawberries, the cold case full of carrots and greens. She’s not here to buy what she wants to eat. She’s here to stretch the money she is allotted to the very last penny.
Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingRoughly 18 percent of West Virginia residents use SNAP benefits. Nationally, that number is more like twelve percent, which means that 42 million people across America need help getting enough to eat.
Seth DiStefano, with the West Virginia Center on Budget & Policy, lobbies to support programs like SNAP — which became a centerpiece of the social reform programs in President Lyndon Johnson’s “Great Society” initiative. DiStefano says SNAP has its roots in West Virginia. This goes back to when President John F. Kennedy started the original “Food Stamp” program in McDowell County.
“It truly is one of the most effective anti-poverty programs in the history of the United States,” DiStefano said.
Photo Credit: West Virginia Center on Budget & PolicyMary Kathryn Molitor, 34, lives in St. Albans, W.Va. with her three daughters and an old dog named Brenda. Mary Kathryn works full-time at a local credit union, making about $13 an hour. When the Us & Them team first spoke with her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk on the record about her relationship with SNAP saying it was her “dirty little secret.”
“I don’t tell people that I use SNAP benefits because I know what that person looks like and that person doesn’t look like me,” Molitor explains while pulling one of her wriggling twin daughters up onto her hip. “That person doesn’t have a college education. That person doesn’t have a full-time job. That person isn’t who I am. I find it embarrassing. I don’t want to admit that I need help.”
Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingTo supplement her family’s food supply, Mary Kathryn Molitor often goes to the Capital Market in Charleston and checks to see if they have wilted vegetable plants that are about to be discarded. She takes them home to plant in her garden.
“Those are pumpkins right there? Volunteers. All those tomatoes? Volunteers. Sunflowers? Volunteers,” Molitor said while showing Us & Them host Trey Kay the plants around her home. “After Halloween – I threw my pumpkins into a couple of different areas and they rotted, seeded and they are giants now! They grow on their own. They volunteer! If anybody needs a free pumpkin this year, just come to my house!”
Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingDel. Jonathan Pinson represents the 17th District of West Virginia’s House of Delegates, on the western border of the state including parts of Mason and Jackson counties. Pinson, a Republican and a Baptist pastor, was first elected in 2020.
“I cannot say that I have issues with [SNAP] in general,” Pinson told Us & Them host Trey Kay when they met in Point Pleasant, W.Va. “One of the reasons that I can’t say that I’m opposed to that is because I think back prior to my adoption… at 15 years old… I go back to Saturday mornings sitting in a line at the armory in Florida, picking up corn flakes and powdered milk and five pound jugs of peanut butter. And I can tell you that there were many, many meals that I wouldn’t have had, had my parents not been on food stamps — and at the time, ‘commodities,’ that’s what it was called. So I can’t say that I’m opposed to the government helping when help is warranted.”
West Virginia’s state prisons and jails are overcrowded and understaffed. About half of those incarcerated are there because they can’t make their bail. Many are poor and a disproportionate number are Black.
West Virginia’s state prisons and jails are overcrowded and understaffed.
Just over half of those who are incarcerated have not yet been found guilty of a crime, they’re in a cell because they can’t make their bail. Many of those people are poor and a disproportionate number are Black.
On this episode of Us & Them, host Trey Kay takes a look at what contributes to the racial disparities in our justice system. Black people make up about 3.5 percent of West Virginia’s population but 12 percent of the state’s incarcerated population. Why are people of color overrepresented in the criminal justice system?
Join Kay for a visit to arraignment court where the choices made early on play a critical role in how a case proceeds. Bail options are an important point where racial disparities can be on display and when a person’s freedom depends on their access to cash or property, some say Black West Virginians are disproportionately harmed.
This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council, the CRC Foundation and The Just Trust.
Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.
Since an arraignment is the gateway to any West Virginia jail, Us & Them host Trey Kay decided to take a field trip to Magistrate Court in Kanawha County, West Virginia to meet with Magistrate Traci Strickland.
“Somebody’s present in day court every day from 8 a.m. until midnight,” Strickland told Kay. “For individuals who find themselves needing help with the court system or individuals who have found themselves under arrest, who come in for their initial appearance.”
She says several hundred come through in a 24-hour period.
“They can come to day court to request a domestic violence petition, to request a personal safety order for people who are under arrest. They come in to post bonds. They come in with tickets. They come in for a variety of things.”
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting “Pretrial detention has been called the front door of mass incarceration,” says Sara Whitaker, who spent nine years as a public defender in Kanawha County, West Virginia.
“People who are jailed while they’re awaiting trial are more likely to be convicted, more likely to receive a jail or prison sentence upon conviction and more likely to receive a longer sentence than those who are not detained prior to trial,” Whitaker says. “In West Virginia, like in most places, whether you’re jailed prior to your trial or not depends on how much money or wealth you have.”
Whitaker is now a criminal legal policy analyst with the West Virginia Center on Budget and Policy. She says bail options are some of the first points in the system where racial disparities can be on display.
Credit: West Virginia Center on Budget and PolicyJust a few years ago, West Virginia legislators debated proposals to lessen the load on the state’s overpopulated jails. In 2020, one of those proposals became law with bipartisan support in both chambers.
“I think it was mainly intended to cut down on the amount of pretrial misdemeanors that would be warehoused in a county jail simply because they don’t have money. But it didn’t do that,” says Del. Mike Pushkin, a Democrat who represents a large section of Charleston, with a district that’s about 30 percent Black.
He says the bill was intended to encourage magistrates to use more personal recognizance bonds. That’s when the bail is set at zero but a person has to promise to show up for their court date.
Credit: Perry Bennett/WV Legislative Photography
Back in February, 2020, when the West Virginia Legislature was debating a number of criminal justice reform bills, this radio ad from Mike Stuart was airing across the state. Stuart was then a U.S. Attorney who says he felt compelled to run what he calls public service announcements to criticize the bail reform measure. Today, Mike Stuart is a Republican state senator representing West Virginia’s 7th district. It’s a rural part of the state, and 96 percent white. He recently announced his candidacy for attorney general. Stuart says he hasn’t seen enough data on the bail reform’s effectiveness, but he’s wary of what he calls a “revolving door” approach to criminal justice.Mike Stuart is a Republican state senator representing West Virginia’s 7th district. He’s pictured here with Us & Them host Trey Kay.
“My solution to prison overcrowding. Build another prison,” Stuart explained to Kay. “If you’ve committed a crime that’s worthy of incarceration, you should be serving your time. I believe in second chances and redemption and I believe you get there. Part of the criminal justice system is punishment. It’s punishment. It’s not all about rehabilitation. There’s a proper role for rehabilitation. But punishment is part of the role, too.”
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingKenny Matthews is quite familiar with West Virginia’s legal system.
He’s originally from Chicago, but back in 2011, he was arrested on drug charges and spent several years incarcerated. About 18 months of his time behind bars was in pre-trial detention. He was there because he was unable to make bail. He had his pretrial hearings and then waited for his trial in West Virginia’s Northern Central Regional Jail.
These days, Matthews works with the American Friends Service Committee as a lobbyist and spends multiple hours during the state’s legislative session speaking to delegates and senators about criminal justice, economic justice and recovery related issues.
“This past legislative session, I almost lived up here and just was talking to senators, delegates, other organizations that had lobbying efforts here at the capitol and were able to get some good bills passed. Some not so good bills killed, and also were able to have some amendments to some bad bills to make them better.”
One of those bills was House Bill 633, on capias reform. Matthews worked with several legislators, including Sen. Mike Stuart.
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Larry Bellorín is a musician from Venezuela, who is seeking asylum in the U.S. He thought his musical career was in the past until he met Joe Troop, a GRAMMY-nominated musician and North Carolina native who introduced Larry to the folk music and traditions of Appalachia, which seemed quite similar to the joropo he played in Venezuela. Their duo, Larry & Joe, is the realization of a dream for both musicians. It’s also a reminder for Larry of what — and who — he had to leave behind.
Larry Bellorín began making his living as a musician and music teacher when he was a teenager in Venezuela. His career was interrupted abruptly in 2013 when Venezuela’s state-run economy crashed and socialist President Nicholas Maduro cracked down on opponents and folks like Larry, who refused to choose sides. He and his family fled to Raleigh, North Carolina and have added their names to a huge backlog of asylum applicants.
Larry worked construction and thought his musical career was behind him until he met Joe Troop, a GRAMMY-nominated musician and North Carolina native who introduced him to the folk music and traditions of Appalachia, which Larry found eerily similar to the joropo he played in Venezuela.
Their duo, Larry & Joe, is the realization of a dream for both musicians. It’s also a reminder for Larry of what – and who – he had to leave behind.
Us & Them host Trey Kay tells the story of Larry Bellorín’s musical beginnings, his “magical” kinship and duo with Joe Troop and the song he can’t yet bring himself to sing.
This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council and the CRC Foundation.
Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.
Larry Bellorín is a musical prodigy who said he’s been making his living performing and teaching music since he was a 13-year-old kid.
Larry grew up in a little country town in the eastern state of Monagas, Venezuela. To make money, he’d head into the nearby city of Punta de Mata and shine shoes, singing while he worked.
“I was about ten or 11 years old, and I would go to where people were playing billiards. I’d go to the plaza where people already knew me,” Larry said. Larry speaks only Spanish and Joe Troop, who performs with Larry as Larry & Joe, translated with Us & Them host Trey Kay.
Credit: Amy Eddings When Larry Bellorín and his family settled in Raleigh, North Carolina, he quickly found work in construction. It was hard on his body, especially his hands and Larry wondered whether he’d ever play music again.
Enter Joe Troop, who introduced Larry to Bluegrass.
“He didn’t even realize where he was in the United States. He thought that this music was played in the ‘Wild, Wild West,’” Troop explained to Us & Them host Trey Kay. “He imagined it was played in Texas because since he was in the United States, all he had done was lift cinder blocks and work, and work and work and work. He had never been off a construction site. And I was like, ‘I cannot wait to show him he’s in the heart of string band country! He’s a string musician!’ And then, I was just like, ‘I know this is gonna blow his mind.’”
Credit: Billie WheelerLarry Bellorín and Athaís Cipriani on their wedding day, Aug. 20, 2011.
Credit: Gustavo Rattia
Larry Bellorín says he never considered himself a political person. However, after the “revolution” of self-proclaimed socialist Hugo Chávez, Venezuelans quickly became divided into two camps: chavistas, supporters of Hugo Chávez,and escualidos, a word Chávez used to belittle his opponents. It means “scrawny.” Bellorín was neither, and it got him into trouble with local chavistas who wanted to know where he stood.
In this video clip, Bellorín explains how everything — even culture — became politicized under Chávez and his successor Nicholás Maduro.
Credit: Amy EddingsTrace Carter is 27 years old and is a big fan of “Old-time” Appalachian music. She has been going to the Appalachian String Band Music Festival in Clifftop, West Virginia for most of her life. That’s because her dad, Will Carter, helped start the festival in 1990, several years before she was born.
“I’ve seen trumpets and saxophones and keyboards and cellos and electric guitars and steel guitars. I mean, just everything mixed in with ‘Old-time.’ Why not the maracas and the harp?” Trace Carter pondered this while reflecting on Larry & Joe‘s performance at the Clifftop Festival in the summer of 2022. “I mean, why haven’t we seen these before? And it was such a wonderful addition… Everyone was in awe of their music. No one wanted them to stop. If they had played all night long, I don’t think anyone would have left.”
Credit: Mauro RuizTo better understand the challenges that Larry Bellorín and his family face, Us & Them host Trey Kay reached out to immigration attorney Ruby Powers. Her law firm, Powers Law Group, is based in Houston and represents many asylum seekers.
Credit: Ruby Lichte PowersUs & Them host Trey Kay saw Larry & Joe perform in January 2023 at the Public Library in Port Washington, New York.
Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingUs & Them host Trey Kay perched in the front row with a shotgun microphone at a Larry & Joe concert in January 2023 at the Public Library in Port Washington, New York.
Credit: Amy Eddings
Larry Bellorín says he has found the Appalachian folk music festivals to be incredibly welcoming — “Todo con todos” or “Everyone with everyone.” He says the experience isn’t so much about one’s musical prowess, but rather more about harmonizing with the community. Mostly, he says that he can feel the warmth of the people and that they invite him into their circle to play music without judging him as Hispanic.
However, in this video clip, Bellorín recalls a time when his immersion into Appalachia’s Bluegrass and Old-time scene wasn’t so easy or pleasant. The Venezuelan immigrant does stand out at festivals, which are overwhelmingly white. And there are traditionalists who aren’t as thrilled to hear Latin American instruments playing alongside fiddles and banjos.
Credit: Amy EddingsLarry & Joe’s first album, “Nuevo South Train,” dropped in March 2023. They’re touring this year and have concert dates in California, New England and Arizona this summer.
Click here to hear their single, “Nuevo South Train.”
Credit: Tommy Coyote
Editor’s note, June 8, 2023: The initial version of this story incorrectly stated the ages of Larry Bellorin and Joe Troop. That error has been corrected.
In schools across the nation, when students of color misbehave, they are disciplined at twice the rate of white students. That means Black and brown students are more likely to face suspension or expulsion. West Virginia lawmakers worry students are not facing the right consequences for their misbehavior. A new state law is designed to make schools safer. In this episode, Us & Them host Trey Kay looks at new approaches to school discipline.
Across the nation, students of color and those from poor families are more likely to be suspended from school, and data from West Virginia reflects this national trend.
In fact, research shows when a teacher thinks a student of color is misbehaving on purpose, they’re more likely to get suspended or expelled. Missing just two days of school each month makes a student less likely to graduate, which has a big impact on their prospects for the future.
On this episode of Us & Them, host Trey Kay looks at discipline disparities in our schools – a new West Virginia law designed to get tough on misbehaving students – and the way one alternative Kanawha County school gives students the support to recover.
This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council, the Daywood Foundation and the CRC Foundation.
Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.
Teacher Ash Setterstrom, counselor Billie Walker and principal Wayman Wilson are part of the staff at the Chandler Academy in Charleston, WV. Chandler is for students who’ve been expelled or removed from one of Kanawha County’s eight high schools or 13 middle schools. Chandler’s goal is to get students stabilized and send them back to their home schools, but often that system turns out to be a vicious cycle. Most of the students at Chandler come from low-income families, and about a quarter are Black. Some struggle with mental illness while others have been stigmatized after being expelled from their home school, and almost all of them struggle with low self-esteem. Credit: Ash SetterstromAsh Setterstrom has taught history at the Chandler Academy in Charleston, WV for six years. She finds it rewarding to work with students who have discipline problems because she was one of them. When she was a student in the Kanawha County School system, she says she hated authority and loved getting suspended. She spent her middle school years — the late 90s — at an alternative learning center like Chandler. Credit: Ash SetterstromMost of the people who work at the Chandler Academy in Charleston, WV have been there for a long time. They are passionate about what they do. Counselor Billie Walker has been at Chandler for 33 years. Credit: Ash Setterstrom Community members showed up to a school board meeting in St. Paul, MN in February 2023. Many expressed concerns about safety days after a student was stabbed to death in one of the local high schools. Credit: Matt Sepic/MPR NewsEric Sloan spoke during a special listening session of a school board meeting in St. Paul, MN in February 2023. The board welcomed speakers to comment on school safety and to share ideas to make St. Paul Public Schools safer after a student was stabbed to death at a local high school days before. Credit: John Autey/Pioneer PressJayanti Owens is an assistant professor of organizational behavior at the Yale School of Management. She’s a sociologist who works on issues of race and inequality in school systems. She works with school districts nationwide on a study to gauge how race affects the response to school behavior.
Schools or districts interested in being involved with the work Dr. Owens is doing to help reduce racial/ethnic disparities in discipline can email to learn more: jayanti.owens@yale.edu
Here’s a link to her study, Double Jeopardy: Teacher Biases, Racialized Organizations, and the Production of Racial/Ethnic Disparities in School Discipline. Credit: Jayanti OwensJoe Ellington is a delegate from Mercer County, WV and is the current chair of the House Education Committee. In the 2023 session, Ellington co-authored a new state law to make school discipline more rigorous. He’s a practicing obstetrician and gynecologist. Credit: West Virginia LegislatureMatthew Watts, senior pastor of Grace Bible Church in Charleston, WV, is a longtime civil rights leader and no stranger to the West Virginia Legislature. He’s fought to close the wealth gap in housing, job training and economic development. He says that he is almost ready to retire, but this issue of school discipline is really important to him and that guilt plays a role. That’s because when he was working with Black kids more than 20 years ago, he did not believe it when they told him their discipline was different than that of white students. In 2015, Rev. Watts and others began paying attention to the reports coming out of academia and the U.S. Department of Education that documented racial disparities in school discipline. For years he tried to get data from West Virginia – and when he finally saw what was going on – he was appalled. Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingKanawha County is the largest and most diverse school district in West Virginia. Tom Williams, superintendent of Kanawha County Schools, says the new legislation proposed by Del. Joe Ellington will help teachers teach. Williams is hopeful that the new law will give schools all over West Virginia the guardrails they’ve long needed to provide consistency along with flexibility. Credit: Kanawha County Schools
West Virginia-born fiddler Phillip Bowen writes songs that reflect love for the place he calls home. His descriptions of the people and places from his childhood touch the ear and heart like a sentimental postcard. But he’s also willing to share songs that remember those who’ve been marginalized or forgotten.
Phillip Bowen grew up playing the fiddle. The 38-year-old learned classical violin as well as how to improvise on the fiddle, combining musical styles and genres. Now, he’s turned to songwriting, becoming a phenomenon on social media. Bowen releases his first album soon, with a wide range of offerings.
Us & Them host Trey Kay talks with Bowen about his music and the songs that focus on memories of things past as well as the Mountain State reality of today. Bowen sings about his small hometown of Montgomery along the Kanawha River; another song mourns the loss of family members, while yet another may just steal the show.
“Vampire in Appalachia” offers a heartbreaking look at the ways his native state has become overshadowed by black lung illness from the coal industry and an opioid crisis that continues to take lives.
This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council, the Daywood Foundation and the CRC Foundation.
Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.
Listen to Philip Bowen’s entire performance on Mountain Stage. He appeared on Jan. 8, 2023 at a show recorded at the Culture Center Theater in Charleston, West Virgnia. Also on the lineup were: Tim O’Brien Band, David Mayfield Parade, Dirty Grass Players and Lauren Calve.
Kathy Mattea introduces West Virginia native Philip Bowen to a packed auditorium at a recording of West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s Mountain Stage. Credit: Chris Morris/Mountain StagePhilip Bowen performing his original tunes about West Virginia with the Mountain Stage Band. Credit: Chris Morris/Mountain Stage
“There’s a vampire in Appalachia and we’re running out of blood.” — Montgomery, West Virginia native Philip Bowen.
Watch a video of Philip Bowen performing ”Vampire in Appalachia” live on Mountain Stage.
Gary Bowen, of Montgomery, West Virginia, shows the tiny violin that his son Philip learned to play when he was four years old. Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
This Charleston Gazette clipping features 10-year-old Philip Bowen performing in a fiddle competition at the Vandalia Gathering. The gathering is an Appalachian folk arts festival that’s been held every Memorial Day Weekend on the grounds of the West Virginia State Capitol since 1977. Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Lou Ann and Gary Bowen in the parlor of their home in Montgomery, West Virginia. Their house sits on the bank of the Kanawha River, which is the subject of their son’s song “Old Kanawha.”Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public BroadcastingFor 40 years, Larry Groce has vetted acts for the popular radio program Mountain Stage, a show that he co-founded. Groce says he loves a good fiddler.
“You know, a fiddle is probably the closest thing to a human voice expression, because you can do so much with the fiddle. You can make it cry, You can make it laugh,” Groce told Us & Them host Trey Kay. “To me, the very best people are the most expressive. It’s not the ones who can play the fastest, not the ones who can, you know, impress you with their gymnastics. It’s the people who talk to you with their instrument and make you feel like you’re experiencing something that’s almost a physical place… I think Philip understands what his licks mean and why he’s playing them… He can play well. But I think he’s got the heart and the soul is his strong suit.”
Credit: The Charleston Gazette-MailAfter Philip Bowen’s debut performance on Mountain Stage, host Kathy Mattea congratulates him with a hug. Credit: Chris Morris/Mountain Stage
