The Fall Of AppHarvest, Inside Appalachia

When the farming start-up, AppHarvest, launched in Kentucky, it promised good jobs in coal country — but some workers called it a grueling hell on earth. We also explore an island of Japanese culture in West Virginia called Yama.

When the farming start-up, AppHarvest, launched in Kentucky, it promised good jobs in coal country — but some workers called it a grueling hell on earth.

We also explore an island of Japanese culture in West Virginia called Yama. 

And fish fries have been a staple in Charleston, West Virginia’s Black community for years. We visit one and learn a little about what’s made them so popular.

You’ll hear these stories and more this week, Inside Appalachia.

In This Episode:


The Rise And Fall Of AppHarvest

When AppHarvest built its first greenhouse in 2020, it was touted as no less than the future of farming — and even Appalachia itself. The start-up would use cutting-edge technology and local workers to produce vegetables on an industrial scale. But then, last year, the company filed for bankruptcy.

Austyn Gaffney recently reported on the downfall of AppHarvest, in a story for Grist. Mason Adams talks with Gaffney to learn more.

Japanese Homestyle Haven In Morgantown

Staff member Ryoko Kijimoto serves up rich rice bowls and ramen in Yama’s diner atmosphere.

Credit: Min Kim

High Street in Morgantown, West Virginia is a bustling strip. Tucked away off the main drag is a place called Yama, a cozy diner that’s been serving up homestyle Japanese food since the 1990s. Japanese students and staff share their language, culture and food. It’s also a place of comfort and connection for everyone.

Folkways Reporter Lauren Griffin has the story. 

Fish Fries, An African-American Tradition In Charleston, W.Va.

Andre Nazario

Credit: Leeshia Lee/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Signs for fish fries are pretty common in Charleston, West Virginia, especially in the city’s Black community, where they’ve become a tradition.

Folkways Fellow, Leeshia Lee, grew up in Charleston and says friends and neighbors frequently hosted fish fries, often as a way to raise money for community needs. Lee has the story.

Remembering The W.Va. Water Crisis 10 Years Later

Kallie Cart reporting on the January 2014 West Virginia water crisis.

Credit: Kallie Cart/WCHS-TV

Ten years ago, a chemical spill in Charleston, West Virginia’s Elk River contaminated the drinking water of hundreds of thousands of people. The disaster became a national story, about corporate distrust and community action.

WVPB’s Randy Yohe spoke with Kallie Cart, a former broadcast reporter who covered the crisis and went viral after one particular exchange.

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Our theme music is by Matt Jackfert. Other music this week was provided by Chris Knight, Tim Bing, Amythyst Kiah, Jeff Ellis and Bob Thompson.

Bill Lynch is our producer. Zander Aloi is our associate producer. Our executive producer is Eric Douglas. Kelley Libby is our editor. Our audio mixer is Patrick Stephens.

You can send us an email: InsideAppalachia@wvpublic.org.

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Inside Appalachia is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

Key Health Players Look Back At The 2014 Water Crisis

Ten years ago, a state of emergency and water advisory was issued for nine West Virginia counties following a chemical spill in the Elk River.

On Jan. 9, 2014, a state of emergency and water advisory was issued for nine West Virginia counties following a chemical spill of Methylcyclohexane Methanol (MCHM) from Freedom Industries, Inc. into the Elk River. MCHM is used in the coal preparation process.

State environmental officials estimated that 7,500 gallons of crude MCHM leaked into the Elk River.

West Virginia American Water told more than 100,000 customers (about 300,000 people) in Boone, Cabell, Clay, Jackson, Kanawha, Lincoln, Logan, Putnam and Roane counties not to ingest, cook, bathe or wash with the water from their tap, even after boiling. Water in this coverage area was OK’d only for flushing and fire protection.

On Jan. 13, 2014, DHHR Secretary Karen Bowling announced at a press conference that 14 people were admitted to the hospital, 231 people were treated and released in connection to the water contamination. West Virginia Poison Control received more than 1,000 calls. No deaths were connected to the spill.

Then-director of West Virginia Poison Control Elizabeth Scharman said calls were steady from when the initial “do not use” order was first put into place.

As the ban was lifted in areas, Scharman said the center received calls about an increased odor, but that was expected. 

The center evaluated each call individually and suspected that some cases of skin irritation could be caused by constant hand sanitizer use. Scharman said excessive testing would be needed to confirm the source of the irritation.

On Jan. 15, 2014, the Health Department consulted with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). It recommended pregnant women continue drinking bottled water until there were no longer detectable levels of the chemical in the water distribution system.

The CDC reaffirmed previous advice that it did not anticipate any adverse health effects from levels less than 1 ppm.

A week after the spill, the CDC fielded questions from local and national media on a conference call.

“This is a dynamic and evolving event,” Dr. Vikas Kapil, chief medical officer for the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Environmental Health, said repeatedly on the conference call.

Kapil said only a few animal studies on MCHM exist and CDC scientists were working to make summaries of those studies available to the media and the public. He also pointed out that studies were not available on the chemical as it relates to cancer or reproductive health in animals.

Paul Ziemkiewicz, director of the West Virginia Water Research Institute, described the chemical leaked from Freedom Industries into the Elk River, crude MCHM, as a kind of detergent used to clean coal, known as a surfactant.

“You’re trying to separate the coal from the non-burnable stuff like shales, clays, stuff like that,” Ziemkiewicz said. “The process takes advantage of the fact that coal is lighter than these clays and rocks, but they have to be separated. So you use these surfactants to help that separation process.”

He said that water ends up in slurry impoundments, and then often is recycled to wash more coal.

“MCHM, which is of course, methylcyclohexane methanol,” Ziemkiewicz said. “It’s a relatively volatile compound, and when I say that, that means it tends to first of all, float on top of the water, and since it floats on top of the water, and it’s volatile, so it’s lighter than water, less dense than water, it floats on top just like an oil would. And it tends to be volatile, which means that if you give it a chance, the MCHM disperses as a gas into the atmosphere.”

One of Ziemkiewicz’s crews was on-site at Freedom Industries to study the spill in 2014.

“We mobilized the crew, one of our crews here at the water research institute, to go downstream from the spill point and measure how much MCHM was found in the Elk and in the Kanawha rivers,” Ziemkiewicz said. “And what we found there was pretty much dispersed fairly quickly and was non-detectable by the time it got to the Ohio River.”

Ziemkiewicz said one of the things that went wrong during the spill was that the water intake at the water treatment plant remained on, pulling the chemical compound along with water into the water distribution system for nine counties.

“The MCHM was essentially trapped in these distribution pipes, and it took a long time to flush that MCHM back out of the system,” Ziemkiewicz said.

Mike McCawley, a clinical associate professor in WVU’s Department of Occupational and Environmental Health Sciences, said a group of his students volunteered to work in the Charleston area during the spill.

“They were going around helping to inform people, and also taking information about what people were doing to kind of protect themselves,” McCawley said. “So it was a time when we got to talk a lot more about chemical exposures, environmental chemical exposures that people had not thought about before.”

McCawley called it a time of stress and worry for the state.

“It was a difficult time, because both drinking and bathing are something that people were worried about doing because they didn’t know what the long-term health effects were,” McCawley said.

The 2014 water crisis spurred the creation of WVU’s School of Public Health which was previously the Department of Community Medicine.

“One of the recommendations that Dr. (Rahul) Gupta, in fact made, was that there should be a School of Public Health at West Virginia University, which was the impetus for turning our Department of Community Medicine into a school, a whole school of public health,” McCawley said.

While the water crisis left thousands without water for weeks, McCawley said he has not heard of any long-term health effects from the spill.

At the time of the spill, the short-term health complaint McCawley heard most often was headaches.

“Headaches were a big thing that people were complaining of,” McCawley said. “That was probably, I think, top of the list.”

While some policies and practices have changed since the 2014 spill, McCawley believes there is still plenty of room for improvement.

“There needs to be regular good inspections, and reporting that is done from that,” McCawley said. “We found that the leaks that were occurring, didn’t seem to get taken seriously, as soon as they possibly could have.”

McCawley also emphasized the need for “inflammation” as a symptom to be taken more seriously and to report exposure to any chemical to a doctor.

“We know inflammation can lead to a lot of things,” McCawley said. “We don’t know how much inflammation leads to what necessarily, but we know it leads to all sorts of nasty things. And so we should keep it in mind and maybe make sure our doctors know that.”

By Jan. 17, 2014, the last of the “do not use” water restrictions were lifted for the last customer area in West Virginia American Water’s Kanawha Valley district.

Appalachia Health News is a project of West Virginia Public Broadcasting with support from Charleston Area Medical Center and Marshall Health.

Novel ‘Poison Flood’ Uses Water Crisis As Backdrop

Poison Flood, a new novel by Jordan Farmer, is set against the backdrop of an environmental disaster in southern West Virginia. It includes murder, theft and riots. The book is described as a crime and noir-style mystery by the publisher. 

The disaster Farmer writes about is based loosely on the 2016 West Virginia Water Crisis that poisoned the water of 300,000 central West Virginia residents for more than a week. His version is more devastating than the original, however. 

When Farmer spoke with Eric Douglas, he said he wanted to tell an entertaining story, but he also wanted to have a main character that was outside the norm.

Editor’s Note: This interview has been lightly edited for clarity. 

Douglas: What do you hope readers take away from the book?

Farmer: First of all, I want them to be entertained. I think that any art that doesn’t entertain you or connect with you on some kind of emotional level, if it’s just all just moral, then I think it fails the test of what art should do. So at first, I want them to be entertained and engaged and to have some kind of emotional reaction to the characters. I want them to love them or hate them or feel sympathetic towards them, and have some kind of empathetic response. 

Douglas: Your character Hollis is a tremendously talented musician. But he also had a pretty significant disability. Why did you decide to throw that into the mix?

Credit Courtesy photo by David Hager
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Farmer: I wanted to write a story with somebody, a narrator or a protagonist, that had what I would refer to as an unconventional body. I kind of have one myself. I have a bone disorder that’s stunted my overall growth so I’m about five feet tall. When I was younger, and was really interested in literature and books, I never found characters who had these kinds of different physical bodies or were physically different in some way. 

If I did find a story about them, it was always a story that was entirely concerned with the struggle of being physically different. It was never about them succeeding in business or love or making art or something else. It was always just focused on the body itself. 

Douglas: Hollis deals with the stress of his life by composing music in his head, and then has to get a guitar and compose music to help himself calm down. What’s the root behind that? Are you a musician? 

Farmer: No, I’m not a musician myself. I play a little bit of a bad punk rock and sort of cowboy-chord country guitar. I wouldn’t call myself a musician, but being a creative guy growing up in a small town without a writer group, or people who were interested in the same kind of art forms I was, a lot of my friends were musicians. And I think I was deeply influenced by the kind of music I grew up around. My grandfather gave me Johnny Cash records and stuff to listen to when I was younger. So I wanted to write about the creative process. But I wasn’t necessarily interested in the idea of writing about writing. Those kinds of books don’t always interest me. I like music and I like the performative aspect of music.

Douglas: Is your next book also set in West Virginia? Is that something you plan to continue? Or are you moving elsewhere with the next one?

Farmer: Poison Flood, and the next manuscript I’m working on, take place in a sort of a fictional town in West Virginia, much like Faulkner wrote about a fictional area of Mississippi. It’s called Coopersville County, which is my way of being able to have a town similar to the communities that I grew up in, but also to not have complete and total realism.

Douglas: Are you at all concerned about people saying, ‘well, that’s just some West Virginia story’ and not being interested in your work because it is such a small, remote place.

Farmer: I had this idea when I was younger that there just wasn’t a place for stories about West Virginia. Or a desire for stories from small towns or rural America or places where I’m from. Now, I’m not so sure that’s true. Now, I think that as long as you’re telling an interesting story and the themes are something that anyone anywhere can understand, I think people will engage with it regardless of the area. I think that your first concern is simply to tell an engaging story.

Jordan Farmer was born and raised in a small West Virginia town, population approximately two thousand. He earned his master’s degree from Marshall University and his Ph.D. at The University of Nebraska-Lincoln.

Poison Flood was released in May by Putnam Publishing. Listen to other interviews with authors from, or writing about, Appalachia.

Novel ‘Shiner’ Looks At Life In Isolated West Virginia Mountains

This conversation has been lightly edited for clarity. 

Stories of snake handlers, moonshining and the isolated mountains of West Virginia have been around for years, but “Shiner,” a new novel by author Amy Jo Burns, looks at them from the perspective of a 15-year-old girl caught in the middle. 

Eric Douglas spoke with Burns to discuss the newly released book. 

Douglas: The book is set in modern day, but there are pieces of it that feel like they could have been told 100 years ago. 

Burns: I wanted to really try to get inside somebody’s head who just did not have access to things like smartphones. Somebody who lived a very isolated life. I wanted the reader to experience what it would be like for somebody like Ren who lives this very private, secluded, almost timeless life. But then the rest of the world is moving on without her so she feels that tension. She sort of goes back and forth between the two.

Douglas: There are elements in the story that mystical, yet the story is set in modern day and in modern life. Why did you choose that approach?

Burns: I grew up in a faith healing church, which is not a snake handling church. And there’s certainly a difference. But I did grow up in a landscape where people expected God to be doing very mysterious things that weren’t easily explained. So that was a huge part of the way I grew up and the way I approached the world around me. I’ve read so many books about that sort of thing that always seemed to be looking at it from the outside and thinking, ‘Oh, this is such a weird tradition’ or ‘Look how weird these people are.’ 

[So] I wanted to tell a story that came from inside it and was able to capture the sacredness of those things that aren’t so easily explained, even though they are a little hard to understand and lead to some pretty damaging situations. Even though it was something I couldn’t quite understand, I still had a reverence for it. I think that is really the main tension that Ren is experiencing as she’s coming into her own as a young woman.

Douglas: What’s your connection to West Virginia or Appalachia? Why did you choose to set the book here?

Credit Courtesy Howie Chen
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Courtesy Howie Chen

Burns: I grew up in western Pennsylvania. When I was a teenager, in the summers, I visited West Virginia and I just fell in love with it. It’s so beautiful there and I think the landscape is constantly telling a story. In my memoir, which I published about five years ago called “Cinderland,” West Virginia plays a role, too. 

In terms of the plot of the novel, West Virginia is actually the only state in the United States where snake handling is still legal. So that was certainly an interesting piece to add into the story, but I think I love to write about places, especially places that I longed for, and I think West Virginia has always held that place in my heart.

Douglas: When you start talking about snake handling and West Virginia, that brings up some stereotypes that make some people uncomfortable. 

Burns: I think what I wanted to do was to break apart the stereotype. The man who takes up serpents is named Briar Bird. There’s a legend about him that is larger than life that no human can live up to. It is a stereotype. I wanted to create a man in the book who was like the men that I knew when I was growing up ⁠— someone who had a lot of ambition that had nothing to do with money. It had nothing to do with travel or leaving home but had a real sense of wanting God’s presence to show up in a really powerful way. 

My hope is that I got the mystery across in the book and all the problems that come with it. It’s also about what happens to women who were caught up in that cycle. I didn’t set out to write a book that was meant to speak for everybody in West Virginia, everybody in Appalachia. I wanted to tell a nuanced story about somebody who does some very difficult things to understand.

Douglas: Is there anything we haven’t touched on anything you want to add?

Burns: I feel like what’s going on in our world is so uncertain and so scary. It’s been a real journey for me to process what it means to be putting a novel out in the world at this time. On the one hand, it can seem maybe frivolous or purposeless, but the more I’ve been able to think about it, the more grateful I am that I get to share something like this with the world. 

This interview is part of an occasional series with authors from, or writing about, Appalachia.

Residents to Get Share of $73 Million from Water Crisis Settlement

People affected by a 2014 chemical spill into a West Virginia river will soon receive their first batch of settlement checks from a class-action lawsuit.

U.S. District Court Judge John Copenhaver approved the distribution of the $73 million to nearly 200,000 residents and businesses.

Anthony Majestro is a lawyer for the residents and says the checks will go in the mail on Sept. 14 or Sept. 17. They’ll include an additional $1 million from former Freedom Industries President Gary Southern.

The residents and businesses sued after a chemical known as Crude MCHM spilled from a storage tank at Freedom Industries into the Elk River. It was upriver from a water plant in Charleston and people were told not to drink or clean with the water for days.

Judge Denies Water Crisis Legal Settlement, Asks for Changes

A federal judge in West Virginia has declined to grant preliminary approval of a $151 million settlement of class-action litigation stemming from the January 2014 water crisis, saying he wanted changes made to the deal.

Local news outlets report that Judge John T. Copenhaver Jr. issued a 93-page order Thursday, two months after court filings made public terms of the deal with West Virginia American Water Co. and Eastman Chemical.

The proposal would have distributed the money among residents, businesses and other entities like non-profit organizations whose drinking water was contaminated by the chemical spill at Freedom Industries, which affected more than 300,000 people in the Kanawha Valley.

Copenhaver raised concerns about how the terms awarded money, timeliness of the settlements and legal fees.

Both sides can refile an agreement.

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