Justice could have forfeited 20 percent of his wages on each paycheck to settle the debt.
Gov. Jim Justice said he didn’t know that a bank loan to one of his coal companies he personally guaranteed had gone into default.
Justice said in his weekly briefing Wednesday that he just learned about the $861,000 default judgment that would require the state auditor to garnish his wages.
“I found out about this when you found out about this,” he said. “You know that I give away 100 percent of my salary to communities and schools. Have done that from day one.”
Justice accused Citizens Bank of West Virginia of “grandstanding” but said the matter would be resolved.
The bank filed a document last week in Randolph County Circuit Court in Elkins seeking to recover $847,000 from Justice, plus interest and fees.
The bank had loaned Bluestone Resources, a coal company his family owns, the money for an equipment purchase.
Justice could have forfeited 20 percent of his wages on each paycheck to settle the debt.
The notice orders the state Auditor to garnish 20 percent of Justice’s state wages after deduction of state and federal taxes, or the amount of his wages that exceed 50 times the federal hourly minimum wage.
Update: March 29. 2023 9:30 a.m.
Statement from state Auditor J.B. McCuskey’s office: “When we receive a wage garnishment order issued by a court, it is processed as directed by applicable statutes, rules and regulations. This is done without regard to whom the order is directed, whether a state official or employee, including the governor.”
Original Story
Gov. Jim Justice defaulted on a loan and may forfeit a portion of his state wages to pay it back.
Citizens Bank of West Virginia filed a document last week in the Circuit Court of Randolph County in Elkins that says Justice owes the bank $861,000, including more than $13,000 in unpaid interest and a $27 application fee.
The notice orders the state Auditor to garnish 20 percent of Justice’s state wages after deduction of state and federal taxes, or the amount of his wages that exceed 50 times the federal hourly minimum wage.
Justice earns a $150,000 annual salary as governor. The wages will be withheld for a year unless the outstanding balance and interest is settled sooner, the document states.
Interest on the balance will accrue at 4 percent annually until the balance is paid.
The judgment was awarded on Oct. 18, and the interest penalty is as of March 14.
The judgment also names Bluestone Resources, a coal company Justice’s family owns.
The West Virginia Record reported last week that Citizens Bank loaned Bluestone more than $2.5 million in 2018 to purchase machinery and that Justice personally guaranteed the obligations. Citizens Bank accuses Justice and Bluestone of breach of contract.
Editor’s note: This story was updated to include the statement from the state auditor’s office.
On his family’s farm in Randolph County, W.Va. 20-year-old Collin Waybright has a hobby that’s very different from streaming TV shows or playing video games. Waybright is one of the state’s youngest falconers. To be a falconer, you have to love birds and Waybright fits the bill.
“They all have different flight styles. And it’s amazing,” Waybright said. “They’re just so effortless. They can just soar on thermals. And whenever it gets a little windy, they just kind of tuck their wings back a little bit and go into it.”
Since he was a teenager, Waybright said he’s been impressed by the way birds’ bodies are built, and he feels it’s proof that a higher power has a hand in creating animals.
“Birds can teach us many things,” said Waybright.
Falconry, the sport of hunting with falcons or other birds of prey, dates back to 5,000 B.C in Mongolia. Some historians say people may have been bonding and partnering with birds of prey even longer than that.
Like most falconers, Waybright loves watching the birds hunt. But even more than that, he just loves watching them fly. At times, it’s like he vicariously gets to fly himself.
“I definitely have wished quite a few times that I could fly. I wish I could be up there. Just flying around. Be really cool.”
Learning To Be A Falconer
Waybright is one of 31 people in the state who have falconry licenses. Some surrounding states like Pennsylvania have more falconers, according to Rich Bailey, ornithologist with the West Virginia Department of Natural Resources.
Each state has its own licensing program, which includes an extensive test, and several years apprenticing with a master falconer. “It’s a very hard test,” said master falconer Mick Brown, who’s been practicing falconry for 18 years in Ohio, and all over the U.S. “I have an insurance license, investment license and a real estate license. The hardest test I ever took [was] the falconry test, to be honest with you.”
The test includes how to take care of a raptor, including disease and medicines, to ensure that people and wild animals are both protected. Only licensed falconers can care for birds of prey.
“If I go out of town, I can’t have you feed my bird,” said Brown. “I have to have a licensed falconer feed my bird. There’s not that many. So, I have to either take it to a falconer’s house and have him feed him or have him come to my house and feed him. So it’s very difficult.”
Brown said becoming a falconer requires a good deal of money. “It’s very expensive to get into.” Brown said he estimates it takes about $10,000 to get started. The cost of food is also expensive. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZXTzxQhIYc
Waybright’s First Hawk
Waybright had a little help with his initial expenses, since he was just 14 years old when he started as a falconry apprentice. Another falconer loaned him the pens he needed, as well as the goshawk trap he used to trap his very first bird of prey.
The first thing a falconer does once they receive a license to become a falconry apprentice is trap their own young bird in the wild.
“The typical way that falconry works is you trap a young bird in juvenile plumage and train it,” Waybright said.
So in the middle of January six years ago, Waybright trekked out in the snow to try to catch a young red-tailed hawk. He said there were subzero temperatures the night he left a rabbit as bait in a Swedish Goshawk trap.
He went to check the trap early the next morning. “It was dark and the trap was shut. You never know what you’re going to catch. You could catch an owl, a hawk, something like that. This was the first bird I had caught, and it was a juvenile red-tailed hawk. Out of all the birds that I could have caught for the first time in that trap, it was what I was after. And that is just amazing to me to this day.”
He named that red-tailed hawk Ace. He loved that bird, and for about two months, he spent all his spare time training Ace, hunting with Ace. His mom, Marsha Waybright, said her son and the hawk were nearly inseparable. Falconry requires that a falconer forms a strong bond with a bird of prey.
Hawks aren’t motivated to hunt on command; they hunt for the same reasons a hawk does in the wild—because they’re hungry. That means a falconer has to keep close tabs on their bird’s weight, making sure they don’t get overfed- but also stay healthy. Waybright taught Ace calls so they could communicate in the woods. Waybright hunts small animals with his hawks, like rabbits or squirrels. Waybright walks through fields and forest and the bird follows, flying from tree top to tree top, scanning for prey. They hunt together like this, but the birds really do most of the work. Waybright usually lets his hawks eat the prey, after they kill it.
Waybright got very attached to his first bird, Ace. They hunted together, for several years, just the two of them.
In the wild, half of hawks die in their first year. If they survive past that, hawks typically live another nine or so years. But if a falconer is feeding them, they can live for up to three decades. Collin’s hawk Ace wasn’t so lucky.
“Ace ended up passing away in the second season I trained him,” Waybright recalled. “He was fine one day. Then the next day, he was acting a little bit slow. Next day, there was clearly something wrong. [So I] called the Raptor Center.”
The West Virginia Raptor Rehabilitation Center in Fairmont advised Waybright, trying to determine what was wrong with Ace.
“And then the next day he had passed away. So that’s one of the hardest things, ever.” Waybright said the veterinarians told him Ace probably died from a genetic disease.
Since then, he’s trained eight birds of prey. He’s released some of these birds back into the wild.
Teaching Others
Even today, six years after first discovering his love of hawks, he recalls the first time he saw a bird of prey, at a public event at Stonewall Resort.
“I saw this raptor display, and I thought it was just amazing.”
Now, doing presentations with the public is one of Waybright’s favorite parts of being a falconer. Especially teaching children about birds.
Credit courtesy Marsha Waybright
/
Collin Waybright teaching a group of kids about falconry and introducing them to his hawk Rico.
“I ask them questions as I’m talking to them, and their reactions to the questions are just priceless. I’ll look at them and ask, ‘how much do you guys think this bird weighs?’ And I’ll get guesses from 20 to 100 pounds. It’s just funny whenever you say, ‘well, no, this guy only weighs about two to three pounds.’ And then the jaws drop, you know?”
Most of these public talks have been put on hold during the pandemic. But Waybright said he does offer informal demonstrations at his family’s farm, where his mother also manages a bed and breakfast. And one day, he said if someone approaches him with the right passion for learning falconry, he’d consider taking them on as an apprentice.
His advice to anyone who is interested is that they “go hunting with a falconer. Go experience that. Go make sure if it’s something you want to do.” Waybright said if someone approached him and asked if he would teach them, he would have to evaluate if the person is serious about becoming a falconer. “It’s not for everyone. You don’t want to get into it blindly. Make sure it’s something you really want to do before you become a falconer.”
Only eight months after launching West Virginia’s first family treatment court, Boone County Judge William Thompson said the coronavirus pandemic caused some drastic changes to the program.
Family treatment court is a “problem solving court.” Instead of punishing parents in the abuse and neglect system for their addiction, it connects them to treatment options and resources to improve their parenting.
The goal, Thompson said, is to help parents reach recovery and get their kids back. As parents progress through the program, which consists of weekly meetings with himself and daily contact with a county case coordinator, they get more visits with their kids, until they’re ready for reunification.
Boone County had reunited its first family and was almost ready to reunite others, when COVID-19 hit West Virginia, causing the state to end most in-person court hearings and visitations for families with children in foster care.
“We had one young mother today who’s doing wonderful in the program and is at the point to be considered for reunification,” Thompson recalled from one of his weekly meetings, which he now conducts over phone and video conferencing. “And probably, but for the coronavirus, she would have had her child back with her at this point.”
In one meeting, the mother talked about learning her child had crawled for the first time.
“You could tell that for the mother, it was great that the baby crawled,” Thompson said, “but you could also tell it was breaking her heart that she didn’t get to see it.”
Hearing From The First Court
Thompson’s court was the first of five to launch family treatment court in West Virginia.
Advocates for the program say it could reduce the number of children in the state’s overwhelmed foster care system, who often are removed from their homes due to issues related to substance use disorder.
The programs were showing promising results, but now that the coronavirus crisis has restricted in-person gatherings, these five courts and their participants have been forced to adapt quickly. Inpatient treatment options are limited, and most outpatient appointments have moved to telehealth.
“While not perfect, and not ideal, we are doing the best we can in these circumstances,” said Thompson.
Credit Emily Allen / West Virginia Public Broadcasting
/
West Virginia Public Broadcasting
West Virginia Public Broadcasting visited the Boone County Courthouse in August, before the first family treatment court in the state was launched.
On March 20, the state Department of Health and Human Resources began advising virtual visits instead of physical visits, for families involved with Child Protective Services. Many parents with children in foster care haven’t been able to see their kids since then.
Some families whose children are in kinship placement, either with a family member or family friend, have been allowed some visits with the court’s permission.
The West Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals issued an order on March 22 declaring a judicial emergency, which halted all nonessential, in-person hearings until May 15. The supreme court issued another order on Wednesday, allowing in-person hearings to resume on or after Monday, May 18.
Parents, Kids Face Digital Divide
In normal circumstances, family treatment court functions best when parents can maintain regular visits with their kids. According to Chautle Haught, who leads family treatment courts for the state supreme court, the strength of this program hinges on developing healthier, more nurturing relationships.
“We require these participants to be involved,” Haught said. “We want them at every doctor’s appointment, every school function. We want them present in their childrens’ lives, as much as they can, as long as there’s no safety concerns.”
She compared family treatment court to other problem-solving programs, like the adult and juvenile drug courts that already are active in West Virginia, helping people avoid incarceration for addiction-related crimes.
“The difference with us is that our courts are involved in the civil proceedings, not the criminal proceedings that your adult drug courts and juvenile drug courts are,” Haught said. Instead of jail or prison time, she said, parents in family treatment court risk losing custody of their children.
Even in a pandemic, Haught said parents have made excellent progress in their recovery from addiction.
With school events and appointments on hold, courts are increasing the number of video visits parents have with kids.
“We’re doing lots of telephone visits, we’ve got some of our foster parents equipped with the same type of technology for Zoom and Skype platforms,” said Judge Thompson in Boone County. “But that’s been by far the most difficult part. I have a participant who’s doing everything they’re supposed to be doing. And I can’t get them the in-person physical visits that they deserve.”
Roane County Judge Anita Harold Ashley, who launched her family treatment court in January, agreed her four participating families struggle the most with not seeing their kids — especially since many Roane County residents have a hard time regularly tuning into video calls, due to unreliable broadband access.
“With the fact that there’s really poor internet service, and most folks have bad cell service, it just breaks my heart if they’re not seeing their kids,” Ashley said.
An Inconvenient Time For A Global Pandemic
These challenges come just as family treatment courts were starting to show some promising results. The supreme court reports there are 50 adults involved in Boone, Nicholas, Ohio, Randolph and Roane counties, with roughly 100 to 150 children between them.
Boone County has 16 adult participants and roughly 25 children involved.
Other, newer courts have said they hope to have the same success. Like Nicholas County, which was the fifth in the state to launch a family treatment court in late February.
Stephanie Smith is the Nicholas County family treatment court case coordinator. Like Boone and Roane counties, she said the Nicholas County program is different now than the one they planned for earlier this year.
“We’ll be excited when we can safely get back to doing things like normal,” Smith said. “But until then, we’re just chugging along and everybody’s hanging in there, making it work right now.”
Smith still conducts home visits with adult participants every week. Sometimes, she brings others from the family treatment court team with her.
“I talk to them [the participants] every day, multiple times a day, phone calls, text, whatever,” Smith said of the parents. “When I went out there, I mean, you could just tell that they really enjoyed that face to face contact … It really made a difference.”
Recovery ‘Difficult Enough’ In Normal Time, Challenging During COVID-19
Most of the resources parents are connected to — namely, those for addiction treatment and parenting skills — have moved online or become remote. Sweat patches that last two weeks have replaced regular drug testing, for example.
When the patches need to be changed in Nicholas County, the participants can visit the local Day Report center, which is still open to those in family treatment court and the criminal justice system, dealing with addiction.
“It’s difficult enough when it’s a normal time, trying to keep people sober and making sure they don’t OD [overdose] or anything like that,” said Nicholas County Day Report Center Director Gary Jarrell.
Individuals reporting to the center who are involved with the criminal justice system check in on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Jarrell said.
For them and family treatment court participants, the center has a recovery specialist on staff, who holds video meetings every week.
For those who need intensive inpatient care, Haught at the state supreme court said she’s in touch with probation services and their connections throughout the state.
The situation isn’t perfect, but there’s still evidence that families are benefiting from this program, according to Ohio County Family Treatment Court Coordinator Erin Jordan.
“There are some things that may not quite be able to happen,” Jordan said. “But they’re still going through their milestones. Some people have still advanced during all of this.”
Credit Emily Allen / West Virginia Public Broadcasting
/
West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Judge William Thompson sits behind his desk in August.
In Boone County, Thompson noted parents are opening up more, and supporting each other in their weekly calls.
“They have sort of formed their own support system where they’ll depend on one another,” Thompson said. “It’s a stressful time, but they understand each other.”
Ohio County has even found a way to make family calls work, Jordan said, using money from grants that went to the five pilot counties, to support participants and provide incentives for their recoveries.
“We’ve ordered books, one for the child, one for the parent,” she said. “That way, with a video chat, the parents can read the book and the child can have the same book in their hands, looking at the pictures at the same time.”
On September 12, 1861, the Battle of Cheat Mountain was fought near the Randolph-Pocahontas County line. Taking place just five months into the Civil War, the battle was a significant loss for the Confederacy.
General Robert E. Lee—at the time commander of the Department of Northwestern Virginia—was trying to protect railroad lines in Western Virginia while keeping what would become northern West Virginia in Confederate hands, thereby thwarting the young statehood movement.
Before the battle, Lee’s subordinate, William Loring, gathered his forces on Valley Mountain. Brigadier General Joseph Reynolds, commander of the U.S. forces, had his headquarters at Elkwater and a strongly fortified post atop Cheat Mountain in Randolph County.
Continual rainfall bogged down the Confederate attack, which was foiled further by the discovery of Southern troops by Union pickets. Lee abandoned his original plan and ordered an advance against Elkwater. The Confederate troops, who were described as being “too wet and too hungry to fight,” were easily repelled.
Colonel John A. Washington, Lee’s aide-de-camp and the last owner of Mount Vernon, was killed while scouting for Lee at Elkwater.
A pioneering camp for rural youth began in Randolph County on July 29, 1915. Activities included hiking, fishing, swimming, and games.
The camp was sponsored by West Virginia University’s Extension Service, which had been created just a year earlier, and was led by J. Versus Shipman, his wife, Bess, and William “Teepi” Kendrick.
The camp was part of a national rural education movement that would evolve into 4-H in 1918. The four H’s stand for head, heart, hands, and health. Although the Randolph County camp was the first of its kind, other clubs for rural boys and girls were already in existence, including one established in Monroe County in 1908.
One of the leaders of the Randolph County camp, “Teepi” Kendrick, deserves much of the credit for the growth of 4-H in West Virginia. Not only did Kendrick expand the program to include youth development, he directed the first state 4-H camp in the United States—held at Jackson’s Mill in Lewis County in 1921.
Over the years, the mission of 4-H has broadened to provide a variety of educational programs, including assistance for urban and underprivileged youth.
