Questions continue to surround the traffic stop of a state Cabinet secretary last week.
Questions continue to surround the traffic stop of a state cabinet secretary last week.
West Virginia Department of Transportation Secretary Jimmy Wriston was stopped by Charleston Police last week but was not charged or cited. The following day, Charleston City Police announced an internal investigation to determine if the stop was handled appropriately.
During his regular briefing Wednesday, Gov. Jim Justice praised Wriston’s work and said it was important “to make sure that we are on solid ground before we start accusing people.”
“But once we get there, you know, my feelings are really simple,” he said. “I’ll address it. And right now there’s enough stuff here that doesn’t look very good, you know. But let’s just wait, let’s just wait.”
The governor said more information will be made available once the police investigation is concluded.
New Secretary
Earlier in the briefing, Justice signed Senate Bill 790, which changes the title of Curator of Arts to Cabinet Secretary of Arts, Culture and History. The governor was joined by the newly titled Secretary Randall Reid-Smith to sign a proclamation creating “Arts Day.”
“For every dollar we invest in the arts and history and culture in this state, you know, we return $11 almost immediately,” Justice said. “For every state dollar we receive in funding, there’s a return of $21.”
State Employees
Justice was also asked about proposed pay raises for certain state employees. The House of Delegates passed House Bill 4883 Wednesday. The bill would implement the 5 percent pay increase for state police and school personnel that Justice discussed during his state of the state address Jan. 10.
The governor said he was glad the House had moved the bill and hopes the Senate moves the bill quickly to help hard-working state employees affected by inflation.
“The Biden inflation that has been caused is tough on people. It’s playing tough,” Justice said. “That’s all there is to it. And we can say ‘Oh, well, it’s all gonna get straightened up.’ Maybe, maybe, but maybe not. And people got to go the grocery store and they’ve got to pay the bills, and they’ve got to pay for childcare and everything else under the sun. So all our all of our state workers, you know, I’m proud of you.”
Local scouting leader Amy Garbrick was elected as the first female president of the governing board for the Boy Scouts of America Mountaineer Area Council, based in north central West Virginia.
Amy Garbrick, a scouting leader from Morgantown, was elected president of the governing board for the Boy Scouts of America Mountaineer Area Council Feb. 8.
Garbrick’s election earlier this month marked the first time a woman ever served as president of the council’s governing board. The council oversees scouting programs across 12 counties in north central West Virginia.
The role of president is generally held for three years. Jack Walker spoke to Garbrick about her plans for her new position, as well as gender inclusion in scouting since the Boy Scouts went co-ed in 2019.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Walker: To begin, could you just tell me a little bit about the new position you were appointed to?
Garbrick: I was appointed as the first female chair of the Mountaineer Area Council Boy Scouts of America. And that is a position that I will hold for — traditionally, it’s been about three years.
Walker: Could you also tell me a little bit about your background in scouting? I know that you had some experience running a Cub Scout troop.
Garbrick: Sure. So, back in 2013, I was a member of Reedsville United Methodist Church in Preston County, and one of our church members asked me. He said, ‘Amy, I’m going to start a Cub Scout pack here at our church, and I wanted to see if you would help me.’ … My sons were four and six, and six years old was, at the time, the youngest that you could be. You had to be in the first grade to be in the Cub Scouts. And he said, ‘Amy, I would like you to help me.’ And I said, ‘Okay, sure.’
So I thought he was going to bring them all to my house, and he was going to teach them “scout things” while like, I baked cookies, and they were just all hanging out at my house. The next week at church, he brought me the Cub Scout manual, basically, and he said, ‘Okay, let me know when you’re gonna schedule your first meeting, and you’re in charge.’
I said, ‘I don’t know anything about scouting.’ And he said, ‘Amy, you’ll learn it.’ That was in 2013, and we started out with six boys. That was before girls were in the organization. Then, when I stepped away as the cub master in 2020, we had over 50 boys and girls in our Cub Scout pack.
Walker: I know this is new to you, obviously, but are there any things you’re particularly looking to accomplish in your tenure?
Garbrick: I mean, it’s actually pretty simple. I want to make sure that everyone in north central West Virginia knows that the Boy Scouts of America is here for them. There is a pack or a troop somewhere nearby.
I would love to just get our word out there that scouting is still very much alive here in our counties, and we’re not just the ones that teach boys how to go camping. We teach everything from leadership and character development to citizenship and fitness. We teach all of those things to boys and girls in all different ages of life. We’re not just teaching kids how to tie knots and go camping. We’re so much more than that.
Any child, as long as you’re in kindergarten and up — any child, boys and girls both, are welcome in the Boy Scouts of America.
Walker: You mentioned that girls are also allowed to get involved in scouting now beyond the Girl Scouts, which is a separate entity. Could you tell me about that trend over the years, and how it has impacted the scouting experience from your perspective as someone who is overseeing a lot of these programs?
Garbrick: So girls in scouting is actually not new. Girls have been involved in scouting for decades. In other programs of the Boy Scouts of America, it wasn’t until the past five or six years that nationally girls were welcomed into the Cub Scouts, as well as into the Scouts BSA program. So that’s the younger girls in kindergarten all the way up to the age of 18. They were welcomed into the program about five or six years ago.
Honestly, I’m so glad for it. I was the cubmaster when we welcomed our first girl into our pack. Her name was Kennedy. I’ll never forget, she was so excited that now she actually got to not only come to the meetings because she was already coming with her older brother. Now she gets to come to the meetings and actually participate and earn advancement and earn recognition. So she was so excited. The girls at the older level, at the troop level — they joined the Boys Scouts of America in 2019, and they have hit the ground running.
Walker: Now, you’re obviously the first woman to hold this position. What does that mean for you, and how is it going to impact the way that you approach this new role?
Garbrick: Sure. So, it’s obviously very exciting. I’m excited mainly to show young girls and young women that yes, I am a woman, and I’m in the Boy Scouts of America. And you can be, too.
Really, if I can get just another handful of girls to join the program then I’m doing my job. I really just want young girls and young women to look up to me and to see, ‘Hey, there’s a woman who is leading this organization. I should join and see what it’s all about.’
Amy Garbrick attends the Boy Scouts of America National Jamboree in 2023. She is pictured beside her sons Tyler and Ethan, from left.
On this West Virginia Morning, the Mountaineer Area Council of the Boy Scouts of America serves 12 counties in north central West Virginia. On Feb. 8, the council appointed the first woman to serve as its governing board president. Jack Walker spoke with new president Amy Garbrick about her scouting background and gender inclusivity in scouting since the Boy Scouts became co-ed in 2019.
On this West Virginia Morning, the Mountaineer Area Council of the Boy Scouts of America serves 12 counties in north central West Virginia. On Feb. 8, the council appointed the first woman to serve as its governing board president. Jack Walker spoke with new president Amy Garbrick about her scouting background and gender inclusivity in scouting since the Boy Scouts became co-ed in 2019.
Also, in this show, West Virginia, like most of the country, is enjoying record setting low unemployment numbers after the coronavirus pandemic. For The Legislature Today, Briana Heaney sat down with Josh Sword, president of West Virginia’s AFL-CIO union, and Del. Clay Riley, R-Harrison, to discuss two bills that would reduce unemployment benefits in the state.
West Virginia Morning is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting which is solely responsible for its content.
Support for our news bureaus comes from Shepherd University.
Eric Douglas is our news director and producer.
Listen to West Virginia Morning weekdays at 7:43 a.m. on WVPB Radio or subscribe to the podcast and never miss an episode. #WVMorning
Harpers Ferry was home to the second-ever meeting of a civil rights group that gave way to the NAACP. A new documentary in part highlights the town’s connection to the movement.
The historical importance of Harpers Ferry becomes clear on any drive across the town’s cobblestone roads. Museums, Victorian homes and storefronts shelved with old-time goods line each of the town’s winding streets.
Many West Virginians know Harpers Ferry as a hub of Civil War history, serving as the site of an 1859 abolitionist uprising led by John Brown and Shields Green.
But fewer people know that the town also played a seminal role in the 20th century civil rights movement. Now, a new documentary, which can be viewed for free on PBS Passport, aims to raise awareness of an often overlooked piece of American history with direct ties to West Virginia.
Origins Of A Black-led Civil Rights Group
In 1905, a group of Black civil rights leaders came together to form the Niagara Movement. Historians describe the group as a precursor to the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).
The group was founded by Black Americans in Canada, just outside of Niagara Falls. It aimed to address racial injustice in the aftermath of the Civil War, advocating against things like sharecropping, racial segregation and pervasive anti-Black violence across the United States.
For its time, the Niagara Movement was viewed as radical. It was run exclusively by Black civil rights leaders like W.E.B. DuBois and William Monroe Trotter.
Curtis Freewill Baptist Church, one of the meeting places of members of the Niagara Movement, is located on Storer College Place in Harpers Ferry.
Credit: Jack Walker/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Plus, it offered a countercurrent to accommodationist perspectives on racial justice, which encouraged Black Americans to temporarily accept segregation, better their communities and one day push for increased civil rights.
This revolutionary mindset is what drew the group to Harpers Ferry in just its second year. Beyond its ties to abolitionist uprising, the West Virginia town was home to Storer College, a historic Black college open to discussions on racial liberation.
“They felt safe to come to a Black college,” said Scot Faulkner, who co-founded a local organization called the Friends of Harpers Ferry National Park. Faulkner’s group serves as a liaison between current town residents and the national historic park.
“They saw a link between themselves as a force, basically an aggressive force on behalf of African American rights,” he said. “They felt common ground and common philosophy with John Brown and the more radical abolitionists going back into the 1850s.”
While visiting parts of the town, Faulkner said the group’s leaders even took off their shoes because they felt that they were walking on “sacred ground.”
Faulkner said that Harpers Ferry provided a stepping stone for early civil rights leaders addressing racial injustice at the turn of the twentieth century. But not everyone who visits the town is aware of this history, which can be overshadowed by the town’s Civil War ties.
Located in downtown Harpers Ferry, the Storer College Museum contains several displays on the history of Black education, as well as the Niagara Movement’s meeting in West Virginia.
Credit: Jack Walker/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Shining A Light On The Niagara Movement
A new documentary titled “The Niagara Movement: the Early Battle for Civil Rights” released through Buffalo Toronto Public Media earlier this month tells the story of the Niagara Movement, from how it was founded to how it gave way to the NAACP.
Raymond Smock is a historian who serves as director emeritus of Shepherd University’s Robert C. Byrd Center for Congressional History and Education. He also previously served as historian of the U.S. House of Representatives.
Smock contributed to the documentary, and hosted a screening of it on Shepherd’s campus earlier this month.
While the film doesn’t center on Harpers Ferry alone, Smock said it shows that the West Virginia town facilitated early civil rights discussions.
“This was an amazing meeting at a very historic spot where John Brown’s raid, some say, started the Civil War,” he said. “There was a great interest in holding this meeting.”
Still, Smock said that the Niagara Movement does not always get sufficient attention in contemporary historical discussions.
An exhibit on the Niagara Movement, an early civil rights organization, is located inside the Storer College Museum in Harpers Ferry.
Credit: Jack Walker/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
“In the immediate vicinity, if you’re in Jefferson County, West Virginia, the Harpers Ferry meeting of the Niagara Movement is pretty well-known history,” Smock said. “But it’s not well known in most other parts of the state or the nation.”
Both Faulkner and Smock said that they hope the documentary helps people learn more about the Niagara Movement and civil rights history.
Much of this history can be discovered right in West Virginia, at historic Harpers Ferry sites like the Storer College campus and the Storer College Museum. The multi-level museum has exhibits dedicated to Black history, from the Niagara Movement and beyond.
For Faulkner, the ability to discover these pieces of American history on a simple walk through town is what makes Harpers Ferry great.
Harpers Ferry “was the philosophical and emotional link between the Niagara Movement in the 20th century and the abolitionist movement, especially the more forceful aspects of the abolitionist movement, of the 19th century,” he said.
“It was a really important melding of these two threads in American history, and certainly of the African American rights movement,” Faulkner said.
In some places, the oil and gas industry is leaving behind industrial sites that are radioactive and dangerous — like Fairmont Brine in Fairmont, West Virginia. This abandoned site became a popular hangout spot for unsuspecting local residents. Investigative journalist Justin Nobel has written about Fairmont Brine. Inside Appalachia Host Mason Adams spoke with Nobel to learn more.
This conversation originally aired in the Feb. 25, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.
In some places, the oil and gas industry is leaving behind industrial sites that are radioactive and dangerous — like Fairmont Brine in Fairmont, West Virginia.
Inside Appalachia Host Mason Adams spoke with Nobel to learn more.
Investigative reporter Justin Nobel.
Photo courtesy of Justin Nobel
Adams: Your story describes an abandoned industrial site where locals are hanging out. That rings true to me from my teenage years a little bit. But in this case, there’s something else going on here. What did you find out?
Nobel: Over the course of my reporting into oilfield radioactivity, I’ve learned that a lot more comes to the surface with oil and gas development than just the oil and gas. The industry brings a lot of really toxic materials up from deep in the earth. Often you have heavy metals, you have carcinogens, like benzene volatile organics, and you have radioactive metals as well.
One of the most concerning ones is the radioactive metal radium, which is a known human carcinogen. You have this really big waste stream in the oilfield brine that comes up. The industry also calls that “produced water.” This is a major waste stream across the U.S. — three billion gallons of oilfield brine a day comes to the surface with oil and gas development, and the industry has to do something with that. So the industry has had an interest in trying to “treat” that brine — trying to take out the toxicity. Take out the heavy metals, take out the radioactivity, and you’ve got a lot of salt. So you can transform that into a usable product, maybe like road salts. Then with the watery component, you can use that to frack new wells. And that sounds really great to the industry. They love to promote that they can take the waste stream and repurpose it for something beneficial.
The problem with brine is it has such a complex brew of toxic elements that it’s actually really, really hard to treat. It’s really hard to remove all the different contaminants from brine and get this clean product that you can then send back out into the world. Even if you do that successfully, you collected all the toxicity, right? And if part of that toxicity is radioactivity, you’ve created a facility where you are concentrating and collecting radioactivity.
At this particular site in West Virginia, this is exactly what they were trying to do: They were trying to treat the oilfield brine. And if your plan isn’t working perfectly, you’re gonna get gunked up really quickly. And you’re building up heavy metals, you’re building up radioactivity, and you’re building up potentially all sorts of problems. And across the board, these plants fail.
The Fairmont Brine Processing site was covered with graffiti and littered with detritus such as beer cans and condoms, indicating the place has become a recurring party spot for locals. Yuri Gorby expressed particular concern about the highly elevated levels of the extremely dangerous radioactive element polonium. Anyone partying at the site is “going to be getting dosed,” says Gorby. “There are going to be long-term chronic effects from this.”
Photo courtesy of Justin Nobel
Adams: At Fairmont Brine, your Geiger counter reads about 7,000 counts per minute, which maxes out the unit. You later drive home the point that working at those levels of radioactivity for one week will take a worker over a yearly limit set by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. But yet, teenagers could wander in here without being stopped. What’s the status of this facility?
Nobel: I think anywhere in America, if you have this kind of busted up industrial site, it’s going to be a place where kids are going to want to hang out. You’ve got this site sitting there up on a hill, just outside the city limits of Fairmont — it’s an attractive place to just go and hang out. There’s grassy fields, there’s this big parking lot. There’s these weird, beat up buildings that you can wander around in. And then containers of stuff, all this different equipment.
What we realized and learned when we went there is wild. Parts of it are really, really dangerous and radioactive. But as soon as the article came out, the EPA really kicked into high gear. They had found levels of radioactivity even higher than we found. The EPA is now working with the community. They’ve set up a call center for local residents to get information on the site. I was told by an EPA official they’re in the process of fencing it off, and moving forward to see if it fits the role of a national Superfund site. So they’re in the process of — I wouldn’t say cleaning it up — but setting it up for a possible cleanup and at least making sure that people from the town can’t move around in it.
Adams: The other piece of this that’s alarming is that this is not a unique situation. You found sites like this elsewhere in Appalachia as well as the U.S. So this is not a singular phenomenon limited to Fairmont Brine.
Nobel: Some of these sites, they often don’t operate for longer than a year or two or three, because it’s a really difficult task to remove all the contaminants. To treat oilfield waste is a lot harder than these companies make it out to be. So what you find is, you have a bunch of sites that are currently operating, they’re hard to access, no one’s gonna let you in there and want to show an investigative science journalist around. And then you have these abandoned sites that aren’t operating anymore, but maybe they’re fenced off and they’re deep in the woods, and there’s still a security person guarding it.
Fairmont Brine was different. It was just right off the main road, and it was all open. Other people were hanging out there and they were entering it, and we entered it just like them. So it was really a rare window to ground truth. The concerns that had piled up over time.
Veolia’s Clearater facility in Doddridge County, West Virginia.
Photo Credit: Ted Auch/FracTracker Alliance, 2020
In other instances, such as the Clearwater plant, which is in Doddridge County along Highway 50 in northern West Virginia, I didn’t have access to the site and I still don’t, but there’s an equal amount of concern, in my opinion. This is another facility that was processing oilfield wastewater. This facility claimed that they could take 600 truckloads a day.
So if you go around the oilfield, you see the brine trucks. They look like these little septic tank trucks can hold maybe like 4,000 gallons. Six hundred of those trucks a day. That is a lot of oilfield wastewater, and they had grandiose language for how they were going to operate this plant. I mean, they claimed that this Clearwater plant was going to be one of the greatest environmental assets for the oil and gas industry in recent American history. The West Virginia governor was there giving a statement for the opening. There was really big money behind this plan. It cost like a quarter of a billion dollars, and involved a union between a Colorado energy company and Terra resources, which is big in northern West Virginia, and this really savvy fancy French waste and water management company called Veolia, which has operations all over the world.
It kind of represents an opposite end of the spectrum from Fairmont Brine, which was operated by a company based out of Pittsburgh. It’s pretty local. They’ve got investors, but it’s on a different scale than this company where you actually have a really major company that is known all over the world. But I was skeptical from the beginning. I visited that site with oilfield workers, and then after less than two years of operations, the site was shut down. I think what’s significant there is, the local news story was that it was shut because gas prices went down and it wasn’t economically viable any longer. But what I learned in reporting that story is the site was actually shuttered because it just wasn’t working again.
Whether it was the local capital setting up this small plant in Fairmont, or whether it was international capital setting up this major facility with a lot of gusto — both of them did not work. The difference though, is with Fairmont Brine, we go in and we saw the mess, and the mess is devastating. We were able to test to know exactly how radioactive the waste left on site was — and it’s very radioactive. Clearwater is a bit more of a black box, because I don’t have access to that site, and so I think there’s a huge concern of what is left on site there. But until I can connect maybe with a former worker who can serve as a whistleblower and lay out just what happened there, or get access to the site, or work with the state to try and enable them to get access, we still don’t know just what sort of mess is left up on that particular hillside.
Part of what strikes me, as I talk to community members as they learn about this, it’s kind of like I went down the rabbit hole as a reporter, and when I publish these stories, and a community member or worker reads what was actually happening at these facilities and what was left behind, they go down their own rabbit hole. They suddenly are learning about a part of the oil and gas industry they never knew about. And what I think has been really unfortunate is that these facilities are still getting built, they’re still getting permitted by the state, and in most cases, the community is still unaware.
You have these harms piling up, and people are not informed about them. And this is especially the case in communities where there’s a legitimate need for jobs. And so you know, it makes our mission of trying to spread awareness on this topic really important. It’s like profiting off the lack of knowledge that’s really worrisome to me. These are the things we try and get to the bottom of, and dig up. So I appreciate [that] I have a chance to expose this, because it does need to be exposed.
Inside the Appalachian mountains of Institute, West Virginia lies one of the nation’s leading public institutions of higher education for African Americans. In 1891, West Virginia State University (WVSU) was founded, and it is full of rich history and cultural traditions. One of the school’s biggest traditions each year is Homecoming. The annual week-long celebration is filled with on- and off-campus activities. The step show is always a crowd favorite.
This story originally aired in the Feb. 25, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.
Inside the Appalachian mountains of Institute, West Virginia lies one of the nation’s leading public institutions of higher education for African Americans. In 1891, West Virginia State University (WVSU) was founded, and it is full of rich history and cultural traditions. One of the school’s biggest traditions each year is Homecoming. The annual week-long celebration is filled with on- and off-campus activities. The step show is always a crowd favorite.
Folkways Reporter Traci Phillips recently attended the 2023 West Virginia State University Homecoming step show with her 11-year-old daughter, Jayli, and has this story of a tradition that is common at most Homecomings at Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCU).
Inside the old WVSU gymnasium, the space is filled with sounds of clapping, stomping, chanting, music and audience enthusiasm. Members of the public are in the bleachers surrounding the basketball court where the stage is set up.
College students representing each Greek organization on campus take turns entering the gym to a selected song or chant. Along with the undergrads are alumni from the 1960s through present day. After their grand entrance, the students take to the stage and perform a three- to five-minute routine. Everyone wears Greek paraphernalia — hats, boots, pins and sweatshirts — in their organization’s colors.
“You got Delta Sigma Theta walking out right now,” Jayli announces.
Delta Sigma Theta, a sorority that was founded in 1913, is just one of the sororities that is stepping today. As an HBCU graduate and Delta member myself, I thought it was important for my daughter, Jayli, to know this history and to experience this culture. Her being here is a rite of passage. Both of Jayli’s grandmothers are WVSU graduates. I am hoping she will one day attend an HBCU and be a Delta, too.
“Let’s see, I think they are about to stomp and clap again,” Jayli says. “I think they’re all helping each other out. That’s what I see.”
This is all part of a long tradition at HBCUs. The Homecoming step show is a way for African American fraternities and sororities to express love and pride for their respective organizations to a broader community. It is also a way for alumni and community members to reunite.
Kenny Hale of Charleston, West Virginia is at the step show today. He is a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity and was initiated during the 1970s at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia.
“Homecoming is when you see all this crowd come in and you get to see the people you knew and went to school with,” Hale says. “And just the enthusiasm that an HBCU brings with the power and the fellowship of scholarly people.”
Addison Hall of Cincinnati, Ohio is an alumni of WVSU and is also a member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity. He says the Homecoming step show is a reunion.
“It’s a lot of people that you haven’t seen in a while showing back up, being in the same space that y’all shared and created all these memories at,” Hall says.
Members of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity performing during the 2023 WVSU Homecoming step show.
Photo Credit: Traci Phillips/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Shanequa Smith is from New York. She went to WVSU and now lives in Charleston, West Virginia. She is a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority.
“I’m Greek, and so it’s just a joyous time, and stepping is part of our history. It goes way back. And so this is a part of that, where we get to stay connected,” Smith says. “And it’s always good to see different people actually taking up that throne of stepping.”
The origin and roots of stepping stems from African cultural traditions. Stepping can be described as a synchronized movement using stomping and clapping. During the 20th century, America’s Black fraternities and sororities played a unique part in the reemergence of stepping on college campuses. Almost three million members strong, America’s nine Black sororities and fraternities are part of the National Pan-Hellenic Council, also known as the Divine Nine.
Up next to perform is Alpha Kappa Alpha, a sorority that was founded in 1908.
“They are walking out with little kids and everybody’s holding up their pinky for the AKAs,” Jayli says. “They are rockin’ this … They have a brown outfit with their state facts on it.”
One of today’s performers is Ashlyn Bell, a Delta Sigma Theta Sorority member from Charleston, West Virginia. Bell is a junior majoring in elementary education. She says part of why she joined a sorority was her memories of going to step shows.
“Growing up in West Virginia, I came to Homecoming all the time and I just always seen the community. Actually, my mom is a Delta, so I’m a legacy. And we would come down and watch the step shows and I just remember really enjoying it,” Bell says. “It was lit, it was just over-the-top loud. I just thought it was so fun and so cool. Just couldn’t keep my eyes off what they were doing, how they’re moving with their hands, and jumping and screaming. I just thought it was amazing.”
This year, Bell performed by herself, representing her sorority, Delta Sigma Theta. She came out to the 1970s hit song, “Got To Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn, and early 2000s hit song “Knuck If You Buck” by Crime Mobb, doing a move called “the duck.” To do the duck, Bell says you have to, “bend your knees, hands out, head turned slightly up just a little bit. You know, you just lean into it.”
Bell wears black shorts, a red vest with Delta designs on it, sunglasses and spray-painted red boots. “The boots are actually traditional, something that past Alpha Delta chapter members have done for the step show,” Bell says. “So I’m gonna continue the tradition.”
Ashlyn Bell poses before her performance at the WVSU Homecoming step show. Her hand signal represents the shape of the letter “D” for Delta in the Greek alphabet.
Photo courtesy of Kristy Lyles-Bell
Clothing and Greek paraphernalia are a big part of the step show. Debra Hart is the director of Equity Programs at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia. She is also a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, and was initiated during the 1970s on the campus of West Virginia State University.
“When we crossed line in 1976, we all had to get a white suit made with a red shirt. And we got gloves and we got boots to match,” Hart says. “All 12 of us had a cane, and we were going to tap the canes and cross them back and forth.”
Kids are also a part of the community at Homecoming. Hart says she remembers going to a step show as young as eight years old.
“My grandmother would dress us in black and gold, because we’re all going to State’s Homecoming. When I was ten years old, I remember aggravating my family to stay for the step show,” Hart says.
Folkways Reporter Traci Phillips (back middle), poses with her family during the West Virginia State University step show. Family members include (from left to right): Brother, Danny Adkins — member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity — and his daughter, Ellie Adkins; son, True Phillips; and daughter, Jayli Phillips.
Photo courtesy of LaQwanza Jackson
After the step show, I asked my daughter, Jayli, what she thought of her experience.
“I thought the step show was really empowering and motivating. The people out there stepping looked really good,” Jayli says. “I loved it, it looked like a fun thing to do. I can’t wait to get there and do it myself one day.”
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This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project, a partnership with West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s Inside Appalachia and the Folklife Program of the West Virginia Humanities Council.
The Folkways Reporting Project is made possible in part with support from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies to the West Virginia Public Broadcasting Foundation. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts and culture.
