Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Corps Project Story Archives - Page 10 of 11

New Folkways Reporting Corps Is Ready To Shine A Light On Arts And Culture

CHARLESTON, W.VA. — Despite social distancing limitations that meant reimagining an in-person training for the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Corps Project, 12 storytellers are now off and running (from a safe distance, of course) to gather and share unique stories of arts and culture from across the Appalachian region.

The Folkways Reporting Corps expands the reach of the Inside Appalachia team to include more stories from West Virginia, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina and Ohio. Jessica Lilly, director of the program, said this year’s virtual training joined storytellers with trainers as far away as Great Britain.

“It took flexibility and a real investment from the Folkways reporters to make this kind of training work,” Lilly said. “Their passion for Appalachian storytelling was evident in the commitment they gave to the training. It was easy to see just how important sharing stories about arts and culture is during times like these. Now more than ever, people need stories of hope and innovation.

“I expect to learn a lot about Appalachian culture through this new group of storytellers. The more I learn, the more pride I have in this region, and I believe our listeners will feel the same when they hear what we have in store for them,” Lilly added.

The Folkways Reporting Corps includes Mason Adams, Connie Bailey-Kitts, Rachel Greene, Clara Haizlett, Zack Harold, Brian Koscho, Kelley Libby, Trevor McKenzie, Nicole Musgrave, Caitlin Myers, Heather Niday and Rebecca Williams. Some members shared their impressions of the training:

Rebecca Williamsof Swannanoa, N.C., said she is honored to be a part of this team and doing this work, especially now. “In these rollercoaster times, I think many of us are looking for something we can hold on to. I found the training incredibly energizing and inspiring — made more so by the fact that we were discussing our roles as storytellers and reporters in the midst of a global pandemic. Interviewing people about Appalachian folkways and why it is important to pass this knowledge on from one generation to the next, seems more urgent than ever.”

Connie Bailey-Kitts of Bluefield, Va., entered journalism at a time a lot of work was being done remotely and she envied the newsroom environment her older reporter friends had — times when they could talk face-to-face with an editor, bounce things off another reporter, watch the photographer load up, drink bad coffee and smell the ink on a stack of papers.

“In those early days of Covid-19, we weren’t able to have face-to face-interaction, but we formed a camaraderie in spite of it, and it felt like we nearly created a true newsroom environment,” Bailey-Kitts said. “What made this training like none I’ve ever had before? In part, I think it was the vulnerability my mentors showed as they shared their own mistakes and lessons learned. That kind of transparency is contagious and kills the self-pride that often keeps you from asking questions and learning and growing, not to mention how wonderfully organized, thorough and planned out each session was. Organizing for the benefit of others is such a service to them.

“My wish is that all we’ve learned will channel into our giving back to the wonderful people of Appalachia as we tell their stories. What a gift to live here! The final word of each training day was, ‘We’re here to support each other.’ Perfect ending to the story,” Bailey-Kitts said.

Rachel Greene of Durham, N.C., said, “One thing that stuck out during the training was how everyone is so dedicated to continue reporting — and finding inventive ways to report —on Appalachia so we can tell the stories of our region even during the current crisis.”

Mason Adams of Floyd County, Va., is a returning member of the Corps and had the benefit of attending a live training last year in Pipestem Resort State Park where he said he learned a lot about folklife and audio reporting. “With pandemic protocols in place this year, the training looked and felt different. I streamed the training while juggling parenting and demands of my other jobs but felt a lot of solidarity from and with everyone else, including the Inside Appalachia team and presenters, because I could tell that they were going through the same challenges…

“I enjoyed hearing those I met as fellow corps members last year—Nicole Musgrave and Caitlin Tan—take it up a notch and become presenters this year. And of course, it’s fascinating to hear the voices behind a podcast I often listen to while doing farm chores become people with whom I’m corresponding and learning from.”

Heather Niday of Green Bank, W.Va., also went through the in-person training last year and returns to the corps for a second round. “I was extremely impressed with all the presenters and how well every one of them adapted their presentations to the online training. I definitely picked up some really good tips on storytelling, research, presentation, etc., that I’m excited to put into my stories. And I’m really excited to hear the stories that will come out of this year’s cohort — very passionate storytellers in this group!!

Brian Koscho of Athens, Ohio, found the virtual training to be much-needed during this time of isolation and social distancing. “I loved the training. In a time of not being able to leave my house, it was so great to connect with such a great team of storytellers and reporters. I was inspired even more than I already was to begin this program and I am grateful to

have so many wonderful new colleagues and be able to learn so much from the Inside Appalachia team during my time.”

Kelley Libby of Charlottesville, Va., said: “The training was a balm for distress and uncertainty. While video conferencing was less than ideal, I left the training feeling deeply connected to my fellow reporters and editors throughout the Appalachian region. I also felt a sense of purpose — that I’m doing meaningful work, even if that means interviewing someone about their folk practice over a Skype connection. I really appreciated the time and care that went into our training. The leadership shown by Inside Appalachia’s team during this time gives me confidence that we’ll manage to make moving, inspiring, sound-rich stories despite our current challenges.”

Learn more about the Inside Appalachia Folkways

Reporting Corps Project at wvpublic.org.

To share a Folkways story idea, contact Jessica Lilly at jlilly@wvpublic.org.

Inside Appalachia Announces Second-Year Folkways Corps

West Virginia Public Broadcasting has selected 13 storytellers to be a part of the second year of its Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project.

The project expands the reporting of the Inside Appalachia team to include more stories from West Virginia, as well as expanding coverage in Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina and Ohio. Storytellers will explore Appalachia’s rich folklife, arts and material culture.

There are seven new corps members from across central Appalachia including Brian Koscho, Rebecca Williams, Connie Bailey, Caitlin Myers, Clara Haizlett, Trevor McKenzie and Kelley Libby. Six corps members are returning from last year including Mason Adams, Heather Niday, Lexi Browning, Rachel Greene, Zack Harold and Nicole Musgrave.

Inside Appalachia producer Roxy Todd said competition for the positions was fierce.

“We had more than 50 applicants to choose from so, this was a difficult choice for us to make,” Todd said. “Each of the reporters we selected brings something unique and creative to the project.”

The 2020-2021 Folkways Reporting Corps members are

Mason Adams of Floyd County, Va., was born in Clifton Forge and has covered Blue Ridge and Appalachian communities since 2001. Adams shifted from a career as a biologist to become a reporter in 2001 through an internship at High County News in Paonia, Colo. From 2003-2012, he wrote for The Roanoke Times, in Roanoke, Va., and has pursued freelance opportunities for a variety of outlets, including The New Republic, Politico Magazine, Yes! Magazine, Virginia Mercury, Blue Ridge Outdoors, 100 Days in Appalachia, Vice, Belt Magazine and others.

With a path in journalism shaped by her story-telling veterinarian father, Connie Bailey-Kitts of Bluefield, Va., left her home to study journalism at Iowa State University, then worked as a science journalist before returning to her native southwest Virginia for a life-altering period as a caregiver. Coming home also meant a rediscovery of Appalachia and the chance to write about its people, places and problems while reporting for a weekly newspaper and freelance writing and editing.

Rachel Greene is a freelance journalist based in Durham, N.C. A 2018 graduate of the UNC School of Media and Journalism, Greene’s work focuses on environmental issues and folkways throughout Appalachia and the South.

Clara Haizlett of Bethany, W.Va., is a recent graduate of West Virginia University and producer of Sandstone Podcast. She is a multimedia storyteller inspired by folklife, cross-cultural dialogue and the natural world.

Zack Harold of Ashford, W.Va., is a southern West Virginia native, the grandson of two coal miners, the son of a Pentecostal preacher, a former staff writer with the Charleston Daily Mail, and former managing editor of WV Living and Wonderful West Virginia magazines. He currently works with WVU Extension. He enjoys playing music with his band The Sycomores.

Brian Koscho is from Athens, Ohio. He moved there in 2001 to attend Ohio University after growing up in the Rust Belt city of Lorain, Ohio. He is currently back in school, as a graduate student seeking an MFA in Communication Media Arts from Ohio University focusing on Audio Storytelling, Publication Design and regional history. He spent 12 years as the marketing director for Stuart’s Opera House and the Nelsonville Music Festival in Nelsonville, Ohio.

Kelley Libby is a radio producer based in Charlottesville, Va. Her work has been heard on NPR’s All Things Considered, BackStory, With Good Reason, Re:sound and Inside Appalachia. She enjoys traveling, listening to stories and documenting the excellence and diversity of Virginia through its folkways.

Trevor McKenzie lives in Deep Gap, N.C., where he works with manuscripts, field recordings, and other materials detailing Appalachian history and life in the W.L. Eury Appalachian Collection at Appalachian State University. On nights and weekends, he performs traditional music at square dances and concerts both as a solo artist and with various string bands.

Nicole Musgrave of Whitesburg, Ky., has a Master of Arts degree in Folk Studies from Western Kentucky University and works as a public folklorist and media producer in southeast Kentucky. She currently serves as the Folklife Specialist at Hindman Settlement School, developing and implementing arts- and folklife-based programming in public schools.

Caitlin Myers is a writer, environmental educator, and amateur water scientist. She splits her time living in both Knoxville, Tenn., and Whitesburg, Ky., She’s covered southern politics, social movements, and environmental justice issues with Scalawag, Science for the People, Current Affairs, Commune Magazine and others. She is a recipient of the Kristi Havens Fellowship through Sundress Academy for the Arts.

Heather Niday of Green Bank, W.Va., is the program director for Allegheny Mountain Radio. She began as a volunteer deejay in 1998 and joined the AMR staff in 2007 as news director and became program director in 2013. Heather is a long-time musician (flute and vocal), choir director for Arbovale United Methodist Church. She and her husband co-host “Something Different,” a weekly show on AMR.

Rebecca Williams of Swannanoa, N.C., is a writer, director, educator and digital media storyteller who has facilitated community-based arts and cultural development projects for the past 25 years in Virginia, Florida, Kentucky, Oklahoma and North Carolina. Along with her husband, Jerald Pope, she co-founded Serpent Child Productions, a nonprofit dedicated to the collaborative creation of multidisciplinary art that draws on the history and stories of community participants. Rebecca is a graduate of Duke University’s Center for Documentary Studies.

Generation After Generation: Ashe County Seed Savers Preserve Heirloom Seeds, Appalachian History

In Appalachia, organizations like seed libraries and community gardens are helping to save traditional heirloom vegetables from being lost. Sometimes, the seeds are found in unexpected places like when Travis Birdsell visited the barn of an Ashe County farmer in 2017.

There, he found tomato seeds smeared on the side of an old grocery store sack.

“All the words said were ‘Big Red,’” Birdsell said.

“Big Red” ended up being an Oxheart tomato, an heirloom variety known for its huge size. Each tomato can weigh up to 2.5 pounds, making them more than four times the size of the average grocery store tomato. Before the tomatoes are even fully grown, they’re heavy enough to bend their stalks.

Birdsell knew he wanted to plant the seeds, but when he did, only one germinated. That single seed, though, was enough for him to successfully grow the tomato in 2019.

The seed was planted in the Ashe County Victory Garden. It’s located in downtown Jefferson, North Carolina. Birdsell, the Ashe County Cooperative Extension director, has used the garden since 2016 as a space to grow and reintroduce heirloom vegetable varieties in southern Appalachia.

Ashe County Victory Garden is home to nine different heirloom vegetable varieties native to southern Appalachia. The garden is designed with education in mind. The trellises shown here provide an opportunity for community members to learn best practices for their own gardens.

Each seed has a special origin story, but right now, the Oxheart tomato is the star — it’s enormous, of course, and Birsell said it has a meaty texture.

Varieties like the Oxheart tomato are kept alive thanks to the work of seed savers. The work they do throughout Appalachia is crucial in keeping heirloom varieties on our tables and in our bellies.

Seed saving is especially important in communities like Ashe County. Agriculture has always been the main industry, and local families have been able to keep certain varieties around for decades. Birdsell said he hopes the Victory Garden highlights that.

“We want to play into the culture that’s alive and well in southern Appalachia, which is independence. This is a way to tap into food independence.”

A Radical Idea

Getting seeds into the hands of home gardeners is a key part of that self sufficiency. In 2019, Birdsell produced enough of the Oxheart tomatoes to make seeds available to the public, through the Ashe County Seed Library, which is about a mile up the road from the garden in West Jefferson, North Carolina.

The Ashe County Seed Library is housed in an old card catalogue. Anyone in the community is welcome to borrow seeds — no library card needed.

The seed library is on the second floor of the public library and is housed in an old card catalogue cabinet. The drawers are stuffed with dozens of varieties of seeds. There are beans, tomatoes, greens and even flowers.

"Seeds are so important. We don't really think about it that much, but one simple seed can produce a plant that can produce hundreds of more seeds, which can feed a whole community."- Sarah Harrison

Each tiny manila envelope contains about a dozen seeds. Heirloom beans and tomatoes are among the most popular. Librarians ask that people try to save a few seeds, so they can continue to stock them next year. There are also handouts that describe the seed saving process for nearly every kind of seed in the library.

Beans can be left on the vine until the shells are dry. Then, the seeds can be removed and stored in a jar until next year. Tomatoes are a bit trickier. Some people dry the seeds on a piece of wax paper so they’re easy to remove, and others put seeds in a jar and cover them with water. The good seeds float to the top, and the others stay at the bottom.

All the seeds at the Ashe County Seed Library are free. There’s no formal check-out process, and you don’t even need a library card. And when the cost of heirloom seeds can sometimes be more than $4 in stores, it can seem like a radical idea to give them away.

“I think it’s liberating to be able to provide for yourself and being able to access free seeds is the start of that process,” Birdsell said.

Ashe County Cooperative Extension Master Gardeners pack seeds from the 2019 Victory Garden harvest into small manila envelopes. The seeds, which are germination tested, will be available at the High Country Seed Swap in March 2020 and in the Ashe County Seed Library.

A Lost Art

Some of these seeds in the Ashe County Seed Library have been saved by local families like Vida Belvin’s for generations.

Her brother donated a special variety of pole bean that’s been a staple in their family since the 1920s. She calls it the Six Week Bean. It’s a flat green bean and you can get up to two harvests a year with it — more than a traditional green bean.

Blevins and her brother learned to save seeds from their parents. Their mom, Kada Owen McNeill, has lived in Ashe County for a century. McNeill was the 7th child of 12. She grew up on a family farm, just a few miles north of Jefferson.

Kada Owen McNeill, long-time Ashe County resident, sits in her home in Jefferson, North Carolina. Her family has grown the Six Week bean that was featured in the Ashe County Victory Garden and Seed Library since the 1920s.

They grew and preserved most of the food they ate. McNeill remembers giant, 65 gallon barrels of sauerkraut that her family would make and share with their neighbors. And, to save money, they spent many hours at the end of each season saving seeds.

McNeill grew up during the Great Depression. Then, saving seed was a necessity. Because you couldn’t just run out and buy them at the store. They saved seeds for apples, cabbage and parsnips. Her dad even built a small room specifically for drying pumpkin and apple seeds. She taught her daughter to save seeds too.

“I think it’s kind of a lost art now,” Blevins said.

Seed saving may be less common than it was a few decades ago, but it can still have the power to shape entire communities, Sarah Harrison said, who donated seeds to the Ashe County Seed Library through the Seeds of Resilience Project at Appalachian State University.

“Seeds are so important. We don’t really think about it that much, but one simple seed can produce a plant that can produce hundreds of more seeds, which can feed a whole community,” Harrison said.

According to experts like Chris Smith, the executive director of the Utopian Seed Project, based in Asheville, North Carolina, the cost of losing these seeds could be devastating for Appalachian communities down the road.

Smith said that seed saving helps build ecological resilience. Because if we only have a handful of different types of tomatoes or types of beans, we aren’t as adaptable as we would be if we have hundreds of different types of heirloom seeds kept somewhere safe. As a researcher, he said that genetic diversity in seeds is key for a sustainable, resilient future.

“If we’re saving our own seeds, in our own regions, then what we see is crop adaptability from season to season,” Smith said.

And the seeds that have grown here in this climate for hundreds, sometimes thousands of years are simply better adapted to southern Appalachia than most of the seeds you can buy in the store.

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.

W.Va. Hunters Return To Historical Roots

West Virginia’s Mountaineer Heritage Hunting season began Jan 9, two weeks after most hunting seasons have closed. It is the second year since its conception, and most notably, it is limited to primitive weapons – like flintlock muzzle loader rifles.

The season is meant to memorialize the state’s settlers, using similar hunting techniques and weapons.

Muzzle loader rifles are long guns, easily four feet. Hunters load black powder into the muzzle — the end of the gun — to fire. It takes an experienced person just under a minute to reload. That means that for hunting, you typically have one shot to kill an animal.

“Literally these are not high tech. These are primitive weapons. There’s nothing high tech about them,” Gene Wotring, a Morgantown-based rifle maker, said.

A New Generation

As of last spring, Gene started making the WVU Mountaineer rifle — the signature piece for WVU’s Mountaineer mascot. His father, Marvin Wotring, made the rifle for over 40 years prior to that. Marvin made 949 muzzle loaders in his life, and Gene is on number nine. It takes him about 80 hours to make one rifle.

Handmade rifles in Gene Wotring’s shop outside Morgantown. Wotring, who recently took over his father’s business, made the most recent Mountaineer mascot’ rifle. WVU replaces the Mountaineer rifle every five to six years. Because the rifles are shot at least a dozen times per WVU sports game, depending on scores, they wear out quickly.

Inside Gene’s shop in Morgantown, five rifles were mounted in front of a rugged, cotton American flag. The rest of the shop was in a bit of disarray — Gene is still going through all of his father’s tools, which he inherited. But the rifles on display stand out. He made them all this year.

“A lot of frustrating hours in that gun and I had to put it up for a little bit. So then I built this one and made out of completely scraps from his shop,” Gene said.

One of the rifles Gene made in 2019. It is made out of a rare patterned maple, called Birdseye.

They all have a glossy wooden shine to them. Two have a hand-carved gold emblem in the shape of W.Va. Another is made out of Birdseye Maple, which gives it a distinct, patterned look and is decorated with a metal bear paw.

Building It For The Challenge…

Gene said the knowledge of how to build muzzle loaders, and even how to shoot them, is dwindling. He said it is easier to hunt with modern rifles because they are easier to load, can shoot a longer range and can shoot multiple times within a matter of seconds.

But, he said, black powder hunting is almost a sport of its own.

“There’s a challenge to it. At some point, honestly it’s pretty easy to kill an animal with a modern rifle, you want to make it a little more challenging.”

And that is a big reason the West Virginia Department of Natural Resources advocated for the Mountaineer Heritage Hunting season. In a 2018 DNR survey of hunters, data showed that almost half of West Virginian hunters intended to take part in the season.

And Gene is one of those people. He made his first muzzle loader at 11 years old, but he had stopped building the rifles in adulthood.

…And The Legacy

When Marvin passed away unexpectedly, Gene felt like he needed take over his father’s legacy. WVU needed a new rifle right away, and Marvin had a list of other customers orders dating back to 2010. Gene said as Marvin got older, he could not keep up with the demand.

Gene was left with a stack of worn papers, big and small, that Marvin liberally scribbled names and phone numbers on.

Gene inside his shop. After his father’s unexpected passing, Gene inherited a lot of rifle-making tools, as well as a long list of orders.

“There’s 98, plus all the ones on the side, plus the ones on the top. He ran out of room. But some people are finding me,” Gene said.

For as long as Gene can remember his dad was making muzzle loaders, so Gene said he did not realize how special of a craft it is.

“I’ve heard comments where my work is just as good as dad’s, but when I look at it I think it doesn’t even match up – completely different category,” he said.

Building It For The History

Larry Spisak is another West Virginian who builds muzzle loaders.

His shop is down a windy turnpike outside Morgantown. It sits on several acres of forested land that he hunts on. Larry is retired and devotes much of his time to studying and interpreting the practices of our Appalachian ancestors.

Larry Spisak on his property outside of Morgantown. All of the tools pictured he or his friends have hand made.

“The ability of dressing in period clothing, firing period weapons, hunting and experiencing the woods as our ancestors did 200 years ago, even with today’s modern technology, for me and many others, that’s the closest as you can come to time travel,” he said.

Over 40 years he has made dozens of rifles. Larry prefers to make flintlock rifles, which are a type of muzzle loader, and are one of the oldest firearm technologies dating back to the 1500s.

“Ready To Fire”

With a flintlock, one pulls the trigger, and a piece of steel hits the flint, which is just a very hard rock. It creates a spark and ignites the black powder.

“First thing I do is take my powder horn and I’ve got my powder measure right here and that’s from a wild turkey leg bone,” Larry said.

Larry puts some black powder into the barrel of the rifle. He can load a Flintlock in under a minute, which is relatively fast given the several hundred-year-old technology.

All of his supplies are handmade. A friend made the turkey powder measure and Larry made the leather bag carrying the rifle and round lead ball, which serves as the bullet.

Larry wrapped the ball in a small piece of fabric, or a patch, before putting it into the barrel of the gun.

“The patch acts as a seal and it also allows the rifling to grip the ball better and put that spin on the ball,” Larry said. “Alright now we draw the ram rod and drive it home.”

He used the ram rod to push the black powder and bullet into the bottom of the gun, back by the flintlock.

“Alright it’s on the charge. Ready to fire. Put it on full cock and we’ll go,” he said.

The gun made a bellowing sound through the woods.

Historical Roots

The rifle is a large part of Appalachian history, Larry said. Early settlers had to hunt for food, and muzzle loaders were the way they did it, Larry added that West Virginians today still embody their ancestors.

Larry preparing to shoot his Flintlock. He hunts with his handmade rifles every year.

“A large percentage of the population lives in the mountains, and maybe not realizing it, they are, in their everyday activities in their farming and hunting, they are living a bit of the life that was commonplace 200 years ago,” he said.

And that is why Larry still makes and hunts with muzzle loaders. He likes to feel connected to the settlers who paved the way for us in Appalachia.

The 2020 West Virginia Mountaineer Heritage Hunting season is January 9 to January 12.

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts, and culture.

How WVU’s Mascot Has Influenced Generations of West Virginians

West Virginia University’s mascot, the Mountaineer, is a big deal in the state. In fact, fans are called ‘Mountaineer Nation.’ West Virginians have long identified with the mascot as it symbolizes independence, strength and curiosity — a true frontiersman attitude.

On a football gameday, the Mountaineer stampedes down the field, rallying the crowd. The mascot wears a tan leather buckskin shirt and pants with long fringes that flap in the wind. There is a raccoon skin hat with a bushy tail and beady eyes, knee-high moccasins and a bison horn that holds black powder — the ammunition for the rifle held in the Mountaineer’s hand.

Among a cheering crowd of 60,000 fans and a stadium with a giant screen, is a Mountaineer who looks like he stepped straight out of the 1800s Appalachian frontier.

“Growing up in West Virginia, you’re instilled with that mountaineer pride at a very young age,” Timmy Eads, current WVU Mountaineer, said.

Becoming The Mountaineer

The mascot was officially recognized in the state in 1934. It is unique in that unlike most other university mascots, the Mountaineer does not wear a foam head – one can see the person’s face.

Also, there are no top-tier pro-sports team in the state, so most sports fans rally around the Mountaineer.

Rosemary Hathaway, author of the upcoming book about the Mountaineer, talks with Timmy Eads. The two were speaking at WVU about history and culture of the mascot. *Credit: Jesse Wright/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Rosemary Hathaway is the author of the soon to be released book “Mountaineers Are Always Free.” She said former Mountaineers she interviewed all say it is more than a mascot for them.

“Putting on the outfit and feeling almost this magical transformation; I’m both myself but I’m also sort of this symbol of the state,” she said.

Becoming the Mountaineer is a rigorous process. One has to be able to handle a gun, take a full class load, be a good public speaker, be willing to travel across the country, have the energy to serve as a role model daily and be able to represent not only the university, but West Virginia as a whole.

Gene Wotring started making the Mountaineer rifle last year. His father, Marvin Wotring, made rifles for the university for more than 40 years before he passed away in 2018.

Growing up, Gene watched many Mountaineers come in and out of his father’s shop.

“The Mountaineers, they were little kids dreaming about being a mountaineer and they’re here now, and going through it,” Gene said. “I think they have to mature in the role because it’s a big responsibility.”

The Buckskins

In just about six months, Timmy has attended over 250 events as the Mountaineer – including everything from elementary school visits to sports games to hospitals to rural hollow communities. He said he wears his buckskins almost every day, and one can tell. The leather has darkened, the creases look permanent, there is a musky smell and it is a little rough around the edges.

“What I was told by former Mountaineers to do if you come home and are absolutely drenched in sweat or you catch an odor, just freeze the entire thing and the freezer will help kill the bacteria and help it not smell so bad,” Timmy said.

Timmy’s worn-in buckskins and satchel. *Credit: Jesse Wright/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Each Mountaineer keeps their buckskins at the end of their reign.

Gary Nebel has been hand-stitching deer hides together to create the Mountaineer outfit since the 1980s. All his work is in the style of pre-1840s.

“We even make some of the buttons — we roll the leather buttons or put antler buttons on them,” Gary said.

Gary is not from West Virginia, nor has he ever lived in the state. He lives in Indiana, but WVU still sought him out to make the outfit. That is just how rare his skill set is.

Gary said, hand making these buckskin outfits — much like our Appalachian ancestors did — is a knowledge that is also dwindling.

“When I’m gone I don’t know who will take it over. I don’t know if my son will do it or not,” Gary said.

But he does not plan to retire anytime soon.

The Rifle

Gene Wotring — the new maker of the Mountaineer rifle — is someone who did take over his dad’s business. His dad, Marvin, made 949 black powder rifles. Gene is on number nine.

The Mountaineer uses a .45 caliber Kentucky Long Rifle, a weapon developed in the early 1700s. Gene said it is a primitive technology, and the pressure of making the WVU rifle is huge.

“It’s not just the Mountaineer, it’s all of Mountaineer Nation,” he said. “If the rifle doesn’t go boom, a lot of people are upset.”

Rifles made by Gene Wotring, who has taken over his father’s role of making the Mountaineer rifle. *Credit: Jesse Wright/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

In a football game, the rifle is shot dozens of times, with a stadium and thousands of fans at home watching. The Mountaineer rifle Gene made last year is striking. It is a dark, maple brown and about four-feet long. There is a gold metal, hand-carved emblem in the shape of West Virginia on the side. Underneath, in gold metal, are the words “Country roads take me,” with the shape of West Virginia as the implied home.“I had to do like five of these to get the state and get the arc right and get the words to fit in there,” Gene said.And on the other side are the distinctive flying letters “WV” — the letters almost look painted on.“It’s coal, and it’s inlaid in there,” Gene said. “I took coal and crushed it up and put it in a resin and molded it in there. Yeah, coal’s just a big part of West Virginia.”The WVU rifle is passed down each year to the new Mountaineer. It is only replaced every five or six years. Seeking DiversityThese days, the Mountaineer typically has a big, bushy beard. Although, prior to the 1970s, that was not the case. Rosemary Hathaway, the author of the upcoming Mountaineer book, said beards were seen as being unkempt and represented someone who has radical politics.In fact, the Mountaineer statue at WVU does not have a beard, and two women have been the mountaineer — Natalie Tennent in 1990 and Rebecca Durst in 2009. Rosemary said the beard was used as an argument for not having a female as the mascot.“In their minds, I think they’re thinking, ‘You’re not being sexist, right? Because you just can’t grow a beard so you can’t be the Mountaineer,’” Rosemary said. “But, I think it was really just a cover for a woman not being the Mountaineer for a whole lot of other reasons, and not growing a beard was just one of them.”

Rosemary Hathaway and Timmy Eads speaking at an event at WVU during Mountaineer Week in 2019. Pictured in the slideshow is Rebecca Durst who was the mascot in 2009. *Credit: Jesse Wright/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

In the 84 years since the mascot was officially recognized, there has not been a person of color in the role. Granted, over 75 percent of WVU’s population is white, but there are students of color, and only one person of color has ever applied.

Rosemary said the women who were the mountaineer faced a lot of backlash, and that could be intimidating for any minority student who is thinking of applying.

“I don’t know what the reaction would be, if people would be cool about it or if they’d think, ‘It’d be politically incorrect for me to say something, so I’m just going to keep my mouth shut.’ Or whether there would be an out-and-out racist response to it,” Rosemary said.

However, according to the mascot application the “Mountaineer Mascot selection committee and the Mountaineer Advisory Committee do not discriminate on the basis of race, sex, age, disability, veteran’s status, religion, sexual orientation, color or national origin.”

Timmy Eads will be passing the rifle that Gene made onto the new mountaineer this spring.

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts and culture.

The W.Va. Monster That Crept Into International Pop Culture

West Virginia folklore includes many alien and monster-like characters, such as Mothman, Big Foot and the Yeti. One such monster has made a big resurgence in the past few years, becoming a part of the state’s pop culture.

This story is part of a Halloween episode of Inside Appalachia, which features ghost tales and legends from across Appalachia.

The story of the Flatwoods Monster began September 12, 1952, in the small town of Flatwoods, West Virginia. It was 7 o’clock at night, and some schoolboys were playing football. They saw an object falling from the sky that looked to be on fire, said Andrew Smith, executive director of the Braxton County Visitors Center and founder of Flatwoods Monster Museum.

“Something, something bright, maybe a fireball, appeared to fly overhead and land on a nearby hilltop,” he said.

A copy of the original drawing of the Flatwoods Monster. An illustrator was hired to interpret what the mom and children described they saw September 12, 1952.

The boys and two adults hiked up the hill to check out this “fireball.” Apparently, there was an overwhelming rotten-egg smell in the air that burned their eyes.

“They see movement from their left coming from the woods,” Andrew said.

They shined a flashlight and saw a 10-foot tall monster hovering above the ground, spewing smoke and gas. Its head was red, and spade-shaped, with a distinct point at the top. It had glowing eyes, with spindly arms and claws. Its body was covered in what looked to be green armor.

“Even though it was floating quietly, it was emitting a shrieking sound,” Andrew said.

The group ran home and reported the incident to the police. Other than a lingering smell, there was not much evidence left behind.

That is the basic origin story of the Flatwoods Monster. It was 67 years ago, but the legend lives on.

The telling of the story has varied over the years. For example, some people think there was a government conspiracy involved. Other versions mention a dog that died from the gas that poured out of the monster. Even more, the actual look of the monster is constantly changing.

The Flatwoods Monster Museum has become an epicenter of all the different interpretations of the monster. It is in an old pharmacy building, in the small downtown of Sutton, West Virginia. The storefront windows advertise the museum in different languages, for that international appeal.

Andrew Smith is the executive director of the Braxton County Visitor’s Center. He founded the museum too, although he says originally the Flatwoods Monster collection could fit on one small shelf.

It was originally supposed to just be the Braxton County Visitor Center, but what started as one, small shelf of Flatwoods Monster paraphernalia turned into an entire museum.

“I would say easily, over 95 percent of our traffic is because we’re a Flatwoods Monster Museum, not because we’re a visitor’s center,” Andrew said.

A menacing interpretation of the monster on a T-shirt. Some of the monster have a friendlier look than others.

The museum is one large room. At the entrance, people are greeted by a life-sized Flatwoods Monster costume. The walls are lined with tall shelves displaying many interpretations of the monster, like drawings, figurines, lanterns, stickers, T-shirts and video games. Some look cute and inviting, while others have evil eyes and bulging muscles.

At the back of the room is another life-sized Flatwoods Monster, made from a green graduation gown, PVC pipe and a red, circular pizza pan. Another one sits on top of a shelf – it is just the head of the monster. Its menacing eyes peer down at guests. It has a bony, dark red face, hollowed out cheekbones and a grim reaper-like cloak.

“I have no idea where that came from,” Andrew said, accompanied with a nervous laugh.

Three different handmade interpretations of the monster in the museum. The one on the far left is made out of a graduation gown, PVC pipe and a red pizza pan.

He said that a lot of the collection has been donated by artists and collectors. The museum has also become a hub for all things spooky in West Virginia. It is a place for people to swap not just Flatwoods Monster knowledge, but ghost stories and UFO sightings.

Colby White, a Morgantown-based musician, has some merchandise from his band on display. Captain Catfeesh is a punk band with an Appalachian-folk music flare. A lot of their tunes are based on regional folklore, such as Bigfoot, the Yeti and of course, the Flatwoods Monster.

One of the Flatwoods Monster inspired songs is called ‘The Phantom of Flatwoods.’ It is a traditional West Virginian folk song written at the time of the sighting by a local named Don Lamb; however, Colby arranged the music to it.

A verse from the song reads, “Oh Phantom of Flatwoods from moon or from Mars, maybe from God, not from the stars. Please tell us why you fly over our trees – the end of the world or an omen of peace?”

phantomsong_mp3.mp3

Listen to the song here.

Colby has a tattoo of the monster on his forearm. Most people interpret the tale as scary or evil, but he sees it differently. He thinks the Flatwoods Monster was just taking in its surroundings, when a group of kids and their mom approached from behind.

Colby White’s Flatwood Monster tattoo. It is actually a tattoo of a lamp made to look like the monster – which can be found in the museum.

“Here comes a bunch of kids, a woman shining a flashlight in this dude’s eyes or this creature’s eyes,” Colby says. “Next thing he knows he’s getting blinded and freaks out and starts vibrating and basically throws up some weird oil on them. So, I think they startled him. That’s my theory, I think they startled the Flatwoods Monster.”

The monster surprisingly has a Japanese following that Andrew thinks began between the 60s and 80s. The character is featured in some older Japanese video games and was also made into figurines. They have an anime, cartoon look — with bright colors and a large, toothy mouth.

Andrew has used the Flatwoods Monster to try to boost tourism in the area. He even runs online ads in Japanese, which have proven to be fruitful. Andrew said a Japanese woman visited the museum last year after seeing the ad.

“She had seen this drawing her whole life, but she had no idea it was based in America or based in West Virginia. But learning that it was, she did this deep dive into West Virginia,” he said.

A Japanese interpretation of the Flatwoods Monster. Andrew says there is a large Japanese following of the monster.

There are also different names associated with the monster like, the Phantom of Flatwoods, Braxton County Monster and the Flatwoods Green Monster. Andrew said in a board game it is referred to as “Braxxie.”

“Braxxie has been a word for maybe three years and how often I hear people using it is amazing,” he said. “And they use it like it’s old.”

There are even handmade wooden chairs painted to look like the monster. All five were built by a local carpenter and are placed throughout Braxton County. They are 10 feet tall with built-in stairs to reach the seat – they look more like a throne.

Recently, Andrew also launched a social media campaign using the chairs.

“You’re actually preserving the history and memory of the Flatwoods Monster and taking these pictures and putting them on the internet,” Andrew said.

Andrew wearing part of the Flatwoods Monster costume. More than likely, he says if you see someone in the costume it is him.

Andrew said he believes the group saw something that September night in 1952. As to whether it was the Flatwoods Monster, Andrew said he will leave it up to the imagination.

And Colby, the musician, said a part of him would love to spot the monster in the wild, but he also likes the mystery of it all – the unknown. It gives him something to believe in.

This story is part of an upcoming Halloween episode of Inside Appalachia, which features ghost tales and legends across Appalachia.

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts, and culture.