Us & Them Encore: SNAP — Do The Hungry Get More Policy Than Nutrition?

Hunger and poverty are universal challenges, but in the U.S. for more than 50 years, support programs like SNAP, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, have provided help to those in need. On this Us & Them, host Trey Kay talks with three people — a retiree, a mom and a lawmaker — who all say that nutritional support has made a difference in their lives.

Forty-two million Americans, or about 12 percent of the the population, need help feeding their families. 

That help often comes from a federal program called SNAP — which stands for Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, formerly called food stamps. The Mountain State is one of the top recipients of SNAP benefits. Nearly 45 percent of recipients are older adults or families with someone who’s disabled, while nearly 60 percent are families with children. 

The nation’s food support program began six decades ago, as a pilot program in McDowell County. Since then, it has reduced poverty and hunger across the nation. 

In an award-winning encore episode of Us & Them, host Trey Kay talks with three people — a retiree, a mom and a lawmaker who all say that nutritional support has made a difference in their lives. 

This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council and the CRC Foundation.

Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.


Reenie Kittle, 75, from Harding, W.Va., is a widow and retired with a physical disability. She does what she can to get by on a meager fixed income.

“How do I live on a fixed income? Very scarcely,” Kittle told Us & Them host Trey Kay as they sat in the living room of her converted double-wide home. “So I have to buy pellets for my wood stoves in the winter months. I have to pay the water bill … all my bills. I don’t go out very much ‘cause I can’t afford the gas. With my income and my bills of $1,300 a month, I am lucky if I have $200, maybe $250 left over to try to find food. My neighbor sometimes will bring me supper, and that’s been a blessing to me. They try to help me food-wise as much as they can. For SNAP, I qualify for $23 a month. It is nothing. They just tell me that they’ve reviewed my case and that’s as much as they can do. They have no extra money to give and that’s it.

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Each month, Reenie Kittle heads to the grocery store in Elkins, W.Va. with $23 from the federal government’s SNAP program. SNAP stands for Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program — it used to be called “Food Stamps.” 

Reenie beelines past the produce section … beyond the tower of packaged strawberries, the cold case full of carrots and greens. She’s not here to buy what she wants to eat. She’s here to stretch the money she is allotted to the very last penny.

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Roughly 18 percent of West Virginia residents use SNAP benefits. Nationally, that number is more like 12 percent, which means that 42 million people across America need help getting enough to eat. 

Seth DiStefano, with the West Virginia Center on Budget and Policy, lobbies to support programs like SNAP — which became a centerpiece of the social reform programs in President Lyndon Johnson’s “Great Society” initiative. DiStefano says SNAP has its roots in West Virginia. This goes back to when President John F. Kennedy started the original “Food Stamp” program in McDowell County.

“It truly is one of the most effective anti-poverty programs in the history of the United States,” DiStefano says.

Photo Credit: West Virginia Center on Budget & Policy
Mary Kathryn Molitor, 34, lives in St. Albans, W.Va. with her three daughters and an old dog named Brenda. Mary Kathryn works full-time at a local credit union, making about $13 an hour. When the Us & Them team first spoke with her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk on the record about her relationship with SNAP saying it was her “dirty little secret.”

“I don’t tell people that I use SNAP benefits because I know what that person looks like and that person doesn’t look like me,” Molitor explains while pulling one of her wriggling twin daughters up onto her hip. “That person doesn’t have a college education. That person doesn’t have a full-time job. That person isn’t who I am. I find it embarrassing. I don’t want to admit that I need help.”

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
To supplement her family’s food supply, Mary Kathryn Molitor often goes to the Capital Market in Charleston and checks to see if they have wilted vegetable plants that are about to be discarded. She takes them home to plant in her garden.

“Those are pumpkins right there. Volunteers. All those tomatoes? Volunteers. Sunflowers? Volunteers,” Molitor says while showing Us & Them host Trey Kay the plants around her home. “After Halloween — I threw my pumpkins into a couple of different areas and they rotted, seeded and they are giants now!  They grow on their own. They volunteer! If anybody needs a free pumpkin this year, just come to my house!”

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Del. Jonathan Pinson represents the 17th District of West Virginia’s House of Delegates, on the western border of the state including parts of Mason and Jackson counties. Pinson, a Republican and a Baptist pastor was first elected in 2020. 

“I cannot say that I have issues with [SNAP] in general,” Pinson told Us & Them host Trey Kay when they met in Point Pleasant, W.Va. “One of the reasons that I can’t say that I’m opposed to that is because I think back prior to my adoption … at 15 years old … I go back to Saturday mornings sitting in a line at the armory in Florida, picking up corn flakes and powdered milk and five pound jugs of peanut butter. And I can tell you that there were many, many meals that I wouldn’t have had, had my parents not been on food stamps — and at the time, ‘commodities,’ that’s what it was called. So I can’t say that I’m opposed to the government helping when help is warranted.”

Photo Credit: West Virginia Legislature

Can Early Trauma Last A Lifetime?

Early trauma affects our psychological and physical health and nearly half the children in the U.S. under 18 have experienced trauma. Research continues to help us learn more about the impact of childhood neglect and abuse. In fact, when a child experiences a traumatic event, the consequences can last a lifetime. Childhood trauma can create poor health outcomes later in life.

We continue to learn more about the way childhood trauma can affect our physical and psychological health, and the result is creating a social movement. More than two decades ago, researchers first came up with a way to assess the impact of childhood neglect, abuse and family dysfunction. Nearly half the kids under 18 in the U.S. have had an adverse experience or serious trauma — also known as ACEs, which stands for adverse childhood experiences. Now, advocates are getting traction with “trauma-aware” campaigns and coalitions.

Many institutions are investing in trauma awareness, training and screening. The original study, published in 1998, concluded that early traumas contribute to poor health outcomes later in life. That research got almost no attention when it was first published, however today its findings are considered ground-breaking. But some say using such a rubric to assess a person’s experience won’t work for everyone and may simply label and limit their future potential.

If you are in West Virginia and want to learn more about ACEs, contact the West Virginia ACEs Coalition.

If you are anywhere else in the world and would like to know more about ACEs, reach out to PACEs Connection.

This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the Claude Worthington Benedum Foundation and CRC Foundation.

This program is made possible by funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities and the federal American Rescue Plan Act of 2021 through the West Virginia Humanities Council. Any views, findings, conclusions or recommendations do not necessarily represent those of the West Virginia Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.


Kathy Szafran, a licensed professional counselor in West Virginia for 30 years, works primarily with high-risk foster care children who have lived through significant trauma.

“Kids need to know that someone loves them. They need to have hope. Something as simple as hope that it’s going to be okay, is critical. Imagine a life without it. Imagine if that child didn’t have grandma who rescued her. What if she stayed in the foster care system and was bounced around, and had no one to connect to? We have a lot of children in the system like that.”

— Kathy Szafran

Photo Credit: Charleston Gazette-Mail
Pediatrician Dr. Nadine Burke Harris — the former Surgeon General of California — gave an influential TED Talk nearly a decade ago on the Adverse Childhood Experiences Study. In that presentation, she described the link between the body, brain and toxic stress.

“Imagine you’re walking in the forest and you see a bear. Immediately, your hypothalamus sends a signal to your pituitary, which sends a signal to your adrenal gland, that says, ‘Release stress hormones! Adrenaline! Cortisol!’ And so your heart starts to pound. Your pupils dilate, your airways open up. And you are ready to either fight that bear or run from the bear. And that is wonderful if you’re in a forest, and there’s a bear. But the problem is what happens when the bear comes home every night and this system is activated over and over and over again?”

— Dr. Nadine Burke Harris

Photo Credit: Paul & Daisy Soros Fellowship for New Americans

(Click here to view Dr. Nadine Burke Harris’ TED Talk: “How childhood trauma affects health across a lifetime.”)

(Click here to read about Dr. Nadine Burke Harris’ book: The Deepest Well: Healing the Long-Term Effects of Childhood Trauma and Adversity)

Dr. Nadine Burke Harris is sworn in by California Gov. Gavin Newsom as the state’s first surgeon general.

Photo Credit: Nadine Burke Harris
Carey Sipp, the southeastern regional community facilitator for ACEs Connection, is author of The TurnAround Mom, about breaking cycles of addiction and abuse.

“It’s clear, it’s there. A child whose brain is steeped in cortisol and adrenaline is going to have structural and functional changes that are going to predispose that child to having those health issues. At the same time, though, if we can buffer with more positive childhood experiences, we may be able to turn that around. That’s the hope. And that’s the proof. We’ve got proof – you can turn this around.”

— Carey Sipp

Photo Credit: Whitney Jones/Jean Exum Photography
Many advocates, including Nadine Burke Harris, want to see ACE screenings become commonplace at schools, in the doctor’s office and in other settings across the country. Screening for adversity may seem like a good idea — after all, we screen for developmental disabilities and smoking and drug use, which can lead to early interventions. But, education scholar Alex Winninghoff questions the value of widespread screening. She believes it’s inappropriate, maybe even damaging to screen individuals with regard to childhood adversity.

“So if we’re thinking about the use, for instance of an ACE score, in relation to health care as a potential data point for assigning risks by insurance companies … if we think about the ways that the ACE score could be interpreted by professionals, including educators, social workers, police… We can see that number, as a kind of reductive, summative representation of someone’s previous experience, also projects a future story that can be dismal and devastating. So the use of the ACE score as a label to imagine potential risk and to give us information about what that person’s likely outcomes are going to be in terms of, you know, education and social functioning and health? There are a number of ways that the interpretation of a score could be deeply problematic and consequential at the system’s level.”

— Alex Winninghoff

Photo Credit: Alex Winninghoff

(Click here to read Winninghoff’s scholarly paper: “The road ahead: Moving beyond ACEs in transformative SEL.”)

Us & Them Encore: Compassion Fatigue

Homelessness is not just an issue for big cities. Across America, communities large and small are struggling to provide shelter to people without housing. In Charleston, West Virginia, government and community approaches to help the unhoused have created renewed debate on an issue that is already divisive. Earlier this year, this episode of Us & Them received a second place award from the Virginias AP Broadcasters for Best Podcast.

Homelessness has been on the rise since 2016, and the pandemic only exacerbated an acute shortage of resources to help people living on the streets. Many communities are struggling to provide support, even as some homeless people turn away from emergency shelters and remain in outdoor encampments.

In Charleston, West Virginia, the city’s opioid response program also focuses on support for people who are homeless. Tent cities have been a focus at the state legislature as debate continues over how to help people living on the street. 

At the same time, some people say they’re more afraid of people living on the street than in the past. Providing sustained care for homeless people continues to elude and divide even well-meaning and determined communities.

Earlier this year, our Us & Them episode called Compassion Fatigue received a second place award from the Virginias AP Broadcasters for Best Podcast. 

This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council and the CRC Foundation.

Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.


Us & Them host Trey Kay met Randy Lantz on the steps of First Presbyterian Church in Charleston on a cold night in January 2023. Lantz, who’s from Georgia, said he’s been homeless since 2016. Lantz said after serving three prison sentences, he found his way “back into the world” after his first incarcerations, but this time, he said, he’s struggling.

Photo Credit: Julie Blackwood
Rev. William Myers became First Presbyterian Church’s new head minister in August 2021. It wasn’t long before he became aware of the church’s transient guests who slept on the building’s front steps. Rev. Myers allowed them to camp there overnight, but he also wanted to set limits, knowing children in the church’s preschool program used that entrance every morning and afternoon.

Myers established ground rules for those sheltering on the steps. But this did not resolve the concerns of some community members in and outside the congregation. In his first days in Charleston, Rev. Myers was quickly immersed in the debate over how best to help people living on the street.

(Click here to view Rev. Myer’s sermon about caring for homeless people.)

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Ashley Switzer and her husband have raised five children in West Virginia’s capitol city. Her grandson attends a preschool located near First Presbyterian Church and St. John’s Episcopal Church, which houses Manna Meal, a soup kitchen that’s been serving meals to homeless people for more than four decades.

“There was a group of parents from this school right here who actually called for a meeting with the mayor of our town because of instances with homeless or criminal vagrants on school property, near school property, banging on parents’ car doors, children in the back screaming,” she said, standing outside the preschool playground where her grandson plays. “There have been children playing on this actual playground where homeless people will threaten them. My grandson has witnessed someone walking down this very sidewalk with no pants.”

Photo Credit: Ashley Switzer
Barbara DiPietro, senior director of policy for the National Health Care for the Homeless Council, oversees the group’s federal advocacy and policy analysis. “It’s not compassion in our public policies when we consistently choose not to fund housing, not to raise wages, to allow people to not get health care,” DiPietro said. “Homelessness isn’t an accident. These are conscious public policy choices.”

Photo Credit: National Institute for Medical Respite Care
Taryn Wherry, director of the City of Charleston’s CARE program, or Coordinated Addiction Response Effort, said the city’s outreach program focuses on those with substance use disorder as well as people living on the streets. The CARE program began under Charleston’s current mayor, Amy Goodwin.

(Click here to hear Mayor Goodwin on meeting the needs of Charleston’s homeless population.) 

“We take a very hands-on, boots on the ground approach every day,” Wherry said. “We’re in the streets, we’re on the [river] banks or in abandoned properties. We’re talking to people and meeting them where they’re at.”

Wherry said CARE staff know firsthand what it is like to be out on the streets, struggling with drug or alcohol addiction. 

“We have individuals who have lived and learned experience in all fields, people who are in long-term recovery who have been in active addiction,” she said.

(Click here to view former Charleston Mayor Danny Jones announcing his order to dismantle a homeless encampment known as “Tent City.”)

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
A peer support worker with Covenant House, Sommer Short works for the nonprofit service organization that partners with Charleston’s CARE team. When Sommer was 21, she was injured in a car accident and prescribed opioids. Over the next five years, she transitioned to heroin use and said she eventually left home and became homeless. 

Short works to support people who are living without shelter, like she used to live. She said many of the homeless people she meets are living with substance use disorder and feel like “her people.”

“Though I may be in a position where I’m three years sober today, I am comfortable going out there and trying to help someone the same way that someone helped me,” she said.

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Short offers food and hygiene bags that she keeps in her trunk to homeless people camping in and around Charleston. 

“We have a Ziploc bag, which contains the toilet paper and their socks and some ointment. Then we have some baby wipes. And inside, we also have a bottle of water, a hairbrush, a comb, a little travel pack for their toothpaste and a brush, a razor, shaving cream,” she said. Short also has food gift cards and Narcan nasal spray, which can be used to reverse a drug overdose.

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
As Short walked toward a homeless encampment, she passed under a highway overpass where someone had written “HOPE” in yellow spray paint on the concrete wall. 

“Hold On Pain Ends,” Short said, describing what the word means to her. “You always gotta have hope. Pain ends eventually. But you got to work for it as well.”

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Us & Them: Our Foster Care Crisis

Across the nation, more than 390,000 children rely on foster care. However, a shortage of licensed foster homes is creating a national crisis. While official foster care cases are carefully tracked, many informal examples of kinship care aren’t part of the data. For this Us & Them episode, we hear the experiences of those who’ve been part of the foster care system.

There’s a foster care crisis in America. Nationally, more than 390,000 children are in foster care. In West Virginia, that’s just over 6,000 children who need a safe place to call home. Last year, more than half of all states saw their number of licensed homes drop, some as high as 60 percent. That challenge comes because new foster parents don’t stay in the system for long.

On this episode of Us & Them, host Trey Kay hears about the shortage of licensed foster homes. Foster care is most often needed because of parental substance use, mental health challenges, poverty and neglect.

While official foster care cases are tracked and overseen by state agencies and nonprofit organizations, there are many informal kinds of so-called kinship care that are not official or included in state data. Some experts say the number of those kinship cases drives the stakes of the challenge much higher.

This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council, CRC Foundation and Daywood Foundation. Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.


Dominic Snuffer was 5 when he and his four younger siblings went into the first of their foster care homes.

“I was in several foster care situations… I think three or four. It always seemed short and seemed as if we were getting bounced around. The hard part was probably just the beginning, how much I just always try to keep my siblings in check. I felt as if, if they behaved in a way, just like the other situations we might get taken away. It feels like yesterday that I got adopted. It went by fast. The things that make me smile was definitely adoption day. ‘Cause I knew, I finally found a family and I could try and live out the rest of my childhood.”

— Dominic Snuffer

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Larry Cooper is executive vice president of Innovation at The Children’s Home Network (CHN) of Tampa Bay, Florida. The agency works with kids in the foster care system and also provides services to prevent and support families from ever entering into the foster care system. Cooper has worked at CHN for more than 20 years, and he’s spent 8 years licensing foster homes while recruiting and training new foster parents. Cooper says some of the challenges bringing in new foster parents comes from an approval process that’s strict for a reason – but can take more than 12 months. A lot of people drop out along the way.

“You might fall off because of just life experiences that you may be going through. You might have a change in jobs. You might have an illness in your family. You might have a death in the family. And so I used to see for every 100 parents that I recruited, I might get only four to six families actually get a kid into their home for every hundred that would call me and be interested in becoming a foster parent.”

— Larry Cooper

Photo Credit: The Children’s Home Network
Marc and Brandi Wilson live in St. Clairsville, Ohio — just across the river from Wheeling, West Virginia. Brandi was a Child Protective Services worker in West Virginia for 20 years. One day back in 2014, her work at the Department of Health and Human Resources and her personal life collided when they became foster parents to a baby related to Marc.

“They both took the stand and said that they give up the rights to their child, I just started breaking down. [Brandi] was sitting beside me like this and she looked over at me. She said, ‘What’s wrong?’ I said, ‘I can never imagine saying that about my own child.’ She was kind of numb to it because she’s worked in the field. It was hard to hear somebody say that.” — Marc Wilson

“It wasn’t until he was sitting next to me in the courtroom that I realized not everybody hears relinquishment. Not everybody hears abuse, neglect. Not everybody hears that – as CPS workers [this is] just everyday language. So once I was with him and realized, OK, this isn’t everybody’s life. They may have drug issues, domestic violence, gangs coming in and out of their home, but these words are not everyday life for a lot of people.” — Brandi Wilson

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Rachel Kinder supervises The Kinship Navigator Program with Mission West Virginia, a nonprofit that’s been around since 1997. Kinder has been working with the foster care system for more than two decades, and has seen lots of trends. In 2019, there was a record high of 7,200 children in West Virginia’s foster care system. She says, while it’s one thing to count the legal cases overseen by the Department of Human Services, there are many informal kinds of kinship care that are not official or included in state data.

“I can tell you the number of kids in formal care, so if there are 6,078 kids in foster care in West Virginia, right now 58 percent of those are in kinship relative placements. For kids in informal care, where grandma or an aunt or some type of relative or even what we call fictive* kin has stepped in, it’s almost impossible to get numbers on that.”

— Rachel Kinder

*Fictive care refers to placements where a foster parent knows the child but is not related to them. This could be a teacher, family friend or a neighbor.

Photo Credit: Mission West Virginia
There’s a clear need for foster families across the nation and in West Virginia. Nikki and Louisa Snuffer knew they would consider becoming foster parents when it came time for them to start a family. There’s a lot going on at their Sissonville home. The couple currently has 12 children, ranging from ages 10 months to 20 years old. Plus, they breed French Bulldogs.

“It actually was a pretty easy decision, because we were both on the same page almost always with helping people. I’ve known since probably my early high school years that I did want to do foster care. However, we really wanted no more than maybe three. And the way life and things happen, we got five at one time. I have two brothers who were put in foster care that I never knew and I still don’t know. So we made a commitment that when we got into it, that we would never split up families.” — Louisa Snuffer

“If they call us for a sibling group, we’re not going to say no to them because that was our number one belief. Like, ‘We need to do whatever we can to keep siblings together.’ When we were initially approved, we were approved for four children. So, DHHR told us we could have four children in the house, given the space. And that was kind of our cap. I said, ‘Maybe we’ll do three tops,’ you know, that seems like a manageable number. And the very first call we got for placement was a sibling group of five. Of course we said yes. We had to do a few things to get approved for a fifth child. They moved in with us. Things went great.” — Nikki Snuffer

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Nikki Snuffer is holding her granddaughter. Many of the children the Snuffers have cared for, they know through Nikki’s job at Winfield High School. She’s an instructor for the Future Leaders Program, which is the National Guard’s high school curriculum that’s taught by veterans. In the program, students learn leadership and life skills, science, career prep and other subjects.

“[For] my kids that have gone to Winfield, I make them go through the [Future Leaders] program. Not because I’m teaching it, but because even if it wasn’t me, I’d want them to get these skills. It’s the kind of things that are forgotten these days.”

— Nikki Snuffer

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Us & Them: Locked Out Of Voting?

Millions of people in the U.S. cannot vote because they’ve been convicted of a felony. A majority of those are not currently in prison, but on probation or parole. In this episode, we look at the nation’s patchwork of voting rights laws and the confusion they can create.

More than 4.5 million Americans cannot vote because of a felony conviction but only about a quarter are currently in prison. 

On the newest episode of Us & Them, host Trey Kay talks with people who support expanded voting rights for felons, and those who say people who’ve committed crimes should forfeit their rights until they serve their entire sentence, including any probation or parole. 

Felon disenfranchisement laws differ significantly from state to state and even legal experts say it can be difficult for someone to know their rights. In a few states, a person can vote from prison, while in others, voting rights are restored upon release or completion of parole or probation. Despite recent trends to expand voting rights, some states are moving in the opposite direction. In Florida, voters passed an amendment to restore voting rights to most people with felonies, but lawmakers passed a new law requiring that people pay all of their court fees first. And in Virginia, only the governor can restore the right to vote for someone convicted of a felony. 

This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the West Virginia Humanities Council and the CRC Foundation.

Subscribe to Us & Them on Apple Podcasts, NPR One, RadioPublic, Spotify, Stitcher and beyond.


Anthony Cole, 32, is from Huntington, West Virginia. He was released from prison in May 2023 after serving 12 and a half years for second-degree murder.

“I started life over, I’m living as a productive citizen. I work for the food bank. I’m trying to give back to the community at the same time, as well as feed myself. Like, I’m back into society, I should be able to be a part of society … That’s what our politics and our whole system is off of. [It’s] supposed to be equality … But it feels even less than now because my voice is completely silenced in that matter.”

— Anthony Cole

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Sara Carter is a legal fellow with the Brennan Center, a nonprofit dedicated to civil liberties and voting rights. She tracks nationwide trends and variations in voting laws for felons from state to state. She says in some states, felons can vote no matter what crimes they’ve been convicted of — even from prison. On the other end of the spectrum, in Virginia, for example, those convicted of a felony can only restore their voting rights with an appeal to the governor.

“Everyone should be able to have a say in who governs them, and everyone should be able to be represented, no matter how they choose to exercise that right when it comes to an election.”

— Sara Carter

Photo Credit: Brennan Center for Justice
Natalie Delia Deckard is an associate professor of criminology at the University of Windsor in Ontario, Canada.

“There is absolutely no way to talk about voting rights in the United States without talking about the fact that the United States has the highest incarceration rate in not only the world but in world history. We know that incarceration is not sprinkled randomly through the society, it’s not just that men are overwhelmingly more likely to have criminal records. It’s that racialized men are more likely to have criminal records, because of the ways in which we understand crime … It’s also about poverty and class. It’s poor men that go to jail, they go to prison. We absolutely know that class divisions very much predict voting divisions.”

— Natalie Delia Deckard

Photo Credit: University of Windsor
Mac Warner is West Virginia’s Secretary of State. He’s running for governor this year as a Republican.

“They have violated the state code, they have committed a criminal offense. And they have shown that they are not worthy at that time, they’ve done something to go against the people of the state of West Virginia. And so we wouldn’t want people who are committing crimes to then be a part of a system that would allow them to vote for someone who may then decide to change and say, ‘These criminal offenses are OK.’ It serves as a deterrent value. So people know that they lose those rights when they commit an offense. And, again, this is just part of the criminal justice system. We all want them to be a part of society, again, with voting rights, but we want them to serve their time for the crime that they committed. There is no effort to suppress votes or to keep somebody from voting.”

— Mac Warner, West Virginia’s Secretary of State

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Mike Stuart was the former U.S. attorney for the Southern District of West Virginia. He currently serves in the West Virginia State Senate and is running for state attorney general.

“I know that we live in a period of time, where there’s a heavy emphasis on criminal rights. I support that, too. We’ve got to make sure we treat folks humanely, that we try to be in the business of rehab and rehabilitation and treatment, especially when it comes to the drug scourge. But I’m focused on victims. …I fully support the idea of the restoration of rights, but after you’ve served your entire penance, to society … and that means … not only your time behind bars, but your period of supervised release, if there’s a period of probation, it’s at the end of that entirety, that you ought to get the restoration of rights. West Virginia already does this today. I just think I’m one of those folks that truly believe that there’s a purpose to punishment, we don’t do it to hurt people. We do it for the rehabilitation part … they’re not part-time, or lesser citizens because they don’t have the right to vote. And we didn’t take that right from them. They took it from themselves when they committed the heinous crime, whatever crime it happened to be.”

— Mike Stuart, WV State Senator

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
Autumn McCraw was born and raised in West Virginia. She says she used drugs for several years and spent more than two and a half years in prison for felony convictions. After she was released from her most recent incarceration, she went to a recovery residence. She says she hasn’t used drugs in over six years. After she was released from parole, she registered to vote and decided to laminate her voter registration card.

“I opened the card … and I held it in my hand, and I just looked at it and I’m like, ‘I have arrived.’ It was a really emotional moment for me. I cried because I felt like I belonged again. Like I can contribute again. Like this is my ticket back into the forefront of society and not just necessarily in the shadows or in the underbelly.”

— Autumn McCraw

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Us & Them: Another Small Town Paper Down

Across the nation, there are more and more local news deserts; communities with no local newspaper, television or radio station to cover what’s going on. When a small town paper like The Welch News in McDowell County, WV, can’t compete and shuts down, losing those local eyes and ears can affect accountability. No one is there to watch over things. Local news also provides a sense of cohesion and identity for a community. What happens when it’s gone? This story was supported by the Pulitzer Center.

Our country’s divides often reveal themselves in our choices and habits, including how and where we get our information. As the economics of the media landscape have imploded, the economics of the industry have forced changes. In the past two decades, online sites have taken over much of the income stream from classified ads and general advertising. That has led newspapers and broadcasters to slash thousands of jobs. Many local news outlets have gone out of business and there are now more than 200 counties across the country with no source of local news. 

One of those is McDowell County in West Virginia. Last year, publisher Missy Nester was forced to shut down the Welch Daily News after a valiant effort to keep the paper running. Join host Trey Kay and reporter Todd Melby on this episode of Us & Them to see what happens when local news organizations stop telling the stories of a community.

This episode of Us & Them is presented with support from the Pulitzer Center, the West Virginia Humanities Council and the CRC Foundation.

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Derek Tyson and Missy Nester on the back steps of the now shuttered building that housed The Welch News.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
Downtown Welch, West Virginia.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
Before the Welch Daily News shut down operations, publisher Missy Nester bought another regional paper, the Pineville Independent-Herald for $1.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
Missy Nester, taking a break in the printing press room of The Welch News.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
Missy Nester kept a collection of coal-related books and pamphlets in her office, including some from the last century showing several dozen coal companies operating in McDowell County.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
The Welch News closed down operations in March 2023.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
A discarded iMac rests on top of bound copies of The Welch News.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
The Welch News printing press dates to 1966, says publisher Missy Nester.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
The Welch News hired drivers three days a week to deliver the paper to homes in nearly every holler, road and neighborhood in McDowell County.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
Derek Tyson and Missy Nester on a smoke break in the front office of The Welch News before the paper shut down in 2023.

Photo Credit: Todd Melby
Us & Them Host Trey Kay with Steve Waldman, co-founder of Report for America, which is modeled on Teach for America. Instead of bringing teachers to schools, Waldman’s focus is on bringing reporters to newsrooms around the nation. He’s currently the president of Rebuild Local News, a nonprofit dedicated to finding new ways to fund local journalism.

Photo Credit: Trey Kay/West Virginia Public Broadcasting
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