Book Brings W.Va. Mine Wars History To Young Readers

The West Virginia mine wars played an important part in U.S. history, but for decades were often left out of history classes. 

A new book aims to change that. It’s titled The Mine Wars: The Bloody Fight for Workers’ Rights in the West Virginia Coalfields, by Steve Watkins. 

The mine wars occurred in the early 1900s as the United Mine Workers tried to unionize coal mines, and coal companies fought back — literally. The conflict culminated in the Battle of Blair Mountain, which was the largest armed insurrection in the US since the American Civil War.

After running across the new book in the library, Inside Appalachia host Mason Adams spoke with Watkins to learn more.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity. 

Adams: A lot of listeners will know about the mine wars, but for folks who may not be familiar, can you give a thumbnail of what the mine wars were?

Watkins: The mine wars, plural, really began in the 1910s with the Paint Creek Cabin Creek war — basically miners fighting for the right to unionize after years, decades of brutal repression, brutal in the extreme, I should point out… beatings, murders, disappearances, lost jobs, strikes in which children suffered malnutrition, [and] many died from opportunistic disease. It was a pretty successful strike, but it took over a year for the miners to win the right to unionize. In southern West Virginia, the owners still held strong sway. The owners brutally repressed any attempts to unionize. You tried to unionize, you get blackballed. They forced people to sign “yellow dog” contracts, which, if you so much as looked at a union organizer, you could lose your job. What that meant down there was you didn’t have a job, you had nowhere you could go and work in the mines, when there are few jobs and few opportunities. You’re working in isolation in these coal mines, that’s pretty devastating stuff.

Adams: How did you first learn about the West Virginia mine wars?

Watkins: My original introduction was the movie Matewan back in the ‘80s. I remember when that came out and just being blown away, thinking naively, stupidly, that this is going to wake people up. I don’t think that movie made a million dollars total. You know, there weren’t a lot of viewers, even though the great James Earl Jones starred in it as a fictional character, Dan “Few Clothes” Chain. His character was actually transported from the earlier mine wars at Paint Creek, Cabin Creek. He was a figure who was very important then, part of the so-called “dirty eleven,” sort of a guerilla organization that did the dirty work for the miners’ union. They transported him to the Matewan Massacre and the Battle of Blair Mountain for that movie [although] he wasn’t really active during that. And a lot of people don’t know this, but James Earl Jones, when they began funding for the Mine Wars Museum in the town of Matewan, he was one of the very first donors. He has said that Matewan was the favorite movie he ever made. 

My publisher wanted me to do a deep dive into this and find a way to tell the story that made it accessible for younger readers. The story of the mine wars and the Matewan Massacre and the Battle of Blair Mountain was deliberately buried in West Virginia for decades. You talk to older people there, and they grew up going to school, never hearing a word about the United Mine Workers of America, about the Battle of Blair Mountain, about any of this. It was just buried in West Virginia history because, literally, the mine owners wrote the textbooks that they used. It really wasn’t until a generation ago that people started reclaiming this history. It’s a very gripping narrative of courageous and not always the most polite of people standing up for their rights. I think it’s the most deeply American story and the most deeply inspiring American story, frankly, that we have. 

Steve Watkins.

Adams: When you are researching and writing about the mine wars, what did you learn that surprised or really struck you?

Watkins: The coal mine owners and operators, especially in southern West Virginia, wanted to make sure that they did not have employees or their families that would cause them any trouble. They wanted a docile population of workers that they could control. They owned the houses. The stores they paid in script, not in cash. They basically worked in these isolated places where people had few options. This mixture was an idea by a mine operator and owner named Justice Collins. Justice Collins’ idea was this: hire a third West Virginia mountain folks, white people; hire a third Blacks from the deeper south, many of them former slaves or the descendants of slaves; hire a third from Eastern Europe, where there was a lot of coal mining, and recruit a lot of people from Slavic nations, from Southern Italy and so forth. Populate your coal towns or your coal camps with these segregated sections of Eastern Europeans who didn’t speak the language of the others, Blacks and whites. The assumption was, they would work underground, but they wouldn’t organize together. That was his idea, and he sold it to the mine owners’ organizations. This caught on, and so mines all over embraced this practice, and it totally backfired on them. Because, for one thing, when you’re underground, you’re covered with coal dust. Everybody looks the same. But also, the common cause these people had, the things that united them, was so much greater than the things that might have divided them. They came together in the United Mine Workers of America, which was the first of the unions that said we will not discriminate on the basis of anything. You had African Americans, white hillbilly Americans, Eastern Europeans, coming together, not divided in the ways that certain politicians are trying to divide us today. They were coming together for common cause, to support their families, to stand up for their rights as workers, their rights as Americans, for free association, freedom of speech. They combined to unionize. I mentioned Dan “Few Clothes” Chain earlier. The three leaders of the dirty eleven were Dan Chain, who’s African American, a guy named Rocco Spinelli, who’s from Italy, and a guy with the greatest name ever, Newt Gump, who was just a hillbilly West Virginian. The three of these guys, they went to federal prison together. They organized together. They literally fought together, and they fought for one another. To me, you know, that is as American a story as there is, people coming together to stand up for their rights. And these people were proud of themselves as Americans, not as some dissident faction. They saw themselves as proud Americans and proud West Virginians.

Adams: How have people responded to your book? What are you hearing from them, and especially from young people?

Watkins: What I’m hearing directly has actually been from the parents of kids who are picking up the book going, “You know, I had heard these stories. I hadn’t read them pulled together in this sustained narrative.” What I’m hearing is that people are drawn into the narrative just because it’s a hell of a story. The characters in this story and the drama, frankly, are just gripping. It’s kind of unbelievable. Things happen — a lot of pretty intense violence, assassinations, and they sent biplanes to bomb the miners, for God’s sake. People are recognizing the need to recognize and celebrate what I had hoped that they would, which are the contributions of these these union leaders who literally put their lives on the line and lost their lives in many cases.

Adams: Why should young adults or people generally learn about the West Virginia mine wars?

Watkins: I think America has turned its back on labor. The labor movement has always been fighting uphill. In a way, the Battle of Blair Mountain is a metaphor. These guys are literally fighting their way up a mountain, seeking justice, seeking to roll back martial law that had been declared. Many of their companions over there in Mingo County were arrested just for talking to a member of the mine union, just for having a copy of a mine union newspaper. That’s it. I think we take the labor movement and those who have labored [for granted] at our own peril. I don’t think we want corporate America running the show here, even though they kind of are. The labor movement is still very active today. You look at what labor unions have done for us in terms of ensuring fair wage, safe working conditions, all of the progress that we’ve made in terms of protecting young people in the workplace. That didn’t come because of the largess of owners; that came because of activism from the bottom up, reclaiming your past, your history, your story, and taking pride in it. I think too often we’re an economy that kind of divorces ourselves from people that pick up a shovel and get down there in the mines and put their lives on the line to make a living, but also to serve the country. We do ourselves a disservice by taking all that for granted. This is a story, one of many, that helps reclaim that history and tell that story, I think.
The Mine Wars: The Bloody Fight for Workers’ Rights in the West Virginia Coalfields is now available from Bloomsbury Children’s Books.

The Mine Wars For Young Adults, Faith After A Flood And Remembering Billy Edd Wheeler

Textbooks have long left out an important piece of labor history that happened here in the mountains. Now, a new young adult book fills in some of what might have been missed about the Mine Wars.

Also, when flooding devastates a community, people can find solace through faith and through song.

And we remember songwriter Billy Edd Wheeler, who passed away last month. Dozens of musicians have covered his songs including Kenny Rogers, Johnny Cash and June Carter and Elvis Presley.

In This Episode

  • Recalling The Mine Wars For A New Generation
  • A Family Guitar Brings Peace After A Flood
  • A Bicentennial Celebration in Fleming County, Kentucky
  • Remembering Billy Edd Wheeler

Recalling The Mine Wars For A New Generation

Author Steve Watkins wants labor history to be remembered.
Courtesy photo

For generations, that history of the Mine Wars in the early part of the 20th century was scarcely mentioned in schools.

The author of a new book hopes to bring the story to today’s young readers. Mason Adams spoke with Steve Watkins, author of “The Mine Wars: The Bloody Fight for Workers’ Rights in the West Virginia Coalfields.”  

A Family Guitar Brings Peace After A Flood

Derenia Dunbar (left) stands with parents Ruby (middle) and James Boggs (right) in front of their family home in Millstone, Kentucky. James holds the guitar that was mostly untouched by the floodwaters that filled their house on July 28, 2022.
Photo Nicole Musgrave

In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, we’re reminded that when disaster strikes, people in Appalachia step up to help their neighbors. In the summer of 2022, floods devastated parts of eastern Kentucky. At the time, Folkways editor Nicole Musgrave brought us a story about the Boggs family, who told her about the joy that comes from the soothing music of an old family guitar.

A Bicentennial Celebration in Fleming County, Kentucky

A church in Fleming County, Kentucky celebrated its 200th anniversary recently.
Photo Samantha Morrill

In Fleming County, Kentucky, there’s an old, covered bridge that’s been a popular tourist destination for decades. The Goddard covered bridge was built in the late 1800s, then moved in 1933. It extends over Sand Lick Creek, where the road leads to an old country church. That church celebrated its bicentennial in September. 

Samantha Morrill at WMKY, Morehead State Public Radio, visited the church.  

Remembering Billy Edd Wheeler

Songwriter Billy Edd Wheeler wrote memorable tunes and was a character.
Courtesy photo

Singer/songwriter Billy Edd Wheeler died in September at the age of 91. The West Virginia native and long-time North Carolina resident was best known for writing songs like “Jackson,” which won a Grammy for Johnny Cash and June Carter. He also wrote “Coward of the County,” which was a hit for Kenny Rogers, and “It’s Midnight,” which Elvis Presley recorded. Mountain Stage’s Larry Groce was a friend and fan of Wheeler’s. Producer Bill Lynch spoke with Groce about Wheeler’s legacy.

—–

Our theme music is by Matt Jackfert. Other music this week was provided by James Boggs, Amethyst Kiah, Caleb Caudle, John Blissard, Paul Loomis, Chris Knight, Johnny Cash and June Carter, and Billy Edd Wheeler.

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. We had help this week from folkways editor Jennifer Goren. You can find us on Instagram @InAppalachia.

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

You can find us on Instagram, Threads and Twitter @InAppalachia. Or here on Facebook.

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Inside Appalachia is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

WVPB Presents ‘The Last Train To Glen Alum’ Radio Drama

One hundred and ten years ago, there was a murder, payroll robbery and posse chase through the hills of Mingo County. 

West Virginia Public Broadcasting has reached back to the golden age of radio to create a radio play of the event called “The Last Train to Glen Alum.” News Director Eric Douglas wrote the play and Landon Mitchell produced it. This audio drama stars a number of local voice actors and volunteers. 

Douglas sat down with state historian Stan Bumgardner to discuss the event and the atmosphere in Mingo County at the time. 

This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity. 

https://wvpublic.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/0927-Stan-Bumgardner-INTV_web.mp3

Douglas: Let’s talk about the atmosphere in West Virginia in 1914.

Bumgardner: 1914 is in some ways, a pivotal year in West Virginia. There’s no way to quantify this, but certainly one of the deadliest coal mine strikes, or strikes period, in U.S. history was at Paint Creek and Cabin Creek in Kanawha County. At the time of the Glen Alum robbery, prohibition had just come into effect in West Virginia, which happened nearly six years before it happened nationally. 

But what was happening in southern West Virginia was just massive change. And I mean, everything was changing. Before the Civil War, and even after the Civil War, you know, this had been a sparsely populated area, just some scattered farmland, and really not much of that because of the terrain. If you look at the census numbers, very few people lived in Mingo County, and in certain parts of McDowell County, very few people lived there until the railroads came. The railroad started coming in the 1880s and then by the 1890s, the Norfolk and Western had reached what’s now Mingo County. At that time it was part of Logan County. Mingo County is our newest county. It came in in 1895 and it’s almost solely due to the arrival of the N&W, the Norfolk and Western, and the opening of coal mines. Towns were being built, seemingly overnight, they were all over the place in that part of the state, and places where almost nobody had lived.

N&W train coming around the bend in West Virginia.

Curtis Tate/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Douglas: I’ve always wondered about that. I knew Mingo split off from Logan, but I always wondered why, and so it was just growing so fast that somebody decided, no, we need a separate local government. 

Bumgardner: The area that’s now Mingo County was kind of an isolated part of Logan County before the N&W arrived. However, when the N&W arrived,there was such an influx of people.The old rule was that you were supposed to be able to get to the county seat and back in a day. That’s how they determined county borders. And that’s why today, it seems ridiculous sometimes that we have counties with county seats that you can drive to, they’re 20 minutes apart, right? But back then you might need a whole day or more. The influx of population into Mingo County was incredible at that time period. The other thing is that you had competing railroads, competing coal companies. The Norfolk and Western was a little different from other railroads that came through. They had watched what had happened with the Chesapeake and Ohio, which came in the 1870s and when that railroad came through southern West Virginia, you had a lot of what I’d call freelance coal operators who just came in and took advantage of the fact that there was this railroad now that they could get the coal to market. That’s what was holding back the coal industry, mainly in southern West Virginia, is just, how do you get it out of there? 

So when the Chesapeake and Ohio, the C&O came through, there were examples of miners who just became rich, who figured out how to run their own operations. There were coal operators who moved into the region. By the time the N&W came around, the organizers realized, “We’re missing out on half of the money.” The railroads were making a lot of the money, but there’s a lot of money to be made in mining the coal. So the N&W with a decade of knowledge about what has happened with the C&O, the N&W’s leaders went in and bought massive amounts of coal land adjoining the railroads and adjoining the branches of the railroads. So, Mingo County was very much an N&W county. If you’re in control of the economy and you can control the government, then you’ve got the whole shebang. 

Douglas: Why was prohibition in six years before national prohibition? How did that happen?

Bumgardner: Men were getting paid on Friday, and by Saturday, the money was all gone on alcohol. And there were problems associated with alcohol and towns that cater to that. You had some now legendary drinking and red light districts and things in southern West Virginia that were being called to attention. Essentially, they had just gotten enough votes by 1914 but this was a movement that was sweeping the country. There were many states that were going dry before it happened nationally. It should be noted that there was a kind of a racist component to some in the temperance movement and they did this very publicly. They associated drinking and the problems with drinking, particularly with immigrants, and so that became a target. It was kind of an anti-immigrant movement as well as an anti-drinking movement. 

Douglas: I’ve often wondered, this massive influx of immigrant populations coming into work in the mines and on the railroads, was there a lot of pushback among the native born, or did they remember that they were just one or two generations removed themselves and didn’t worry about it a whole lot? 

Bumgardner: It was an interesting situation. There was a very anti-immigrant philosophy that was happening all across the country, that the immigrants were coming in, particularly from Eastern Europe, and that they were taking jobs away from native born West Virginians and native born Americans. But there weren’t enough laborers to fill the jobs. West Virginia’s economy was really booming. That sounds like something we can’t relate to because of what West Virginia’s economic situation has been for so long. But people were pouring into West Virginia to fill jobs, and they couldn’t fill the job fast enough, whether it was in coal mines or factories wherever. And so there was a need for all of this labor. But this gets into some of the trying to stop the labor movement from developing is that coal mine operators would one of them, Justus Collins even referred to it as a judicious mixture, which was, “We want the right balance of native born whites and blacks and immigrants to help balance off each other,” and it was successful at times. They fomented this resentment toward these other groups so they wouldn’t pull together in union. 

Members of the Black Hand arrested in Fairmont. West Virginia Archives

Douglas: Let’s talk about the Black Hand for a second. So as my understanding, a lot of that was up in the northern part of the state, in the Italian community. But give me the short version of what the Black Hand was.

Bumgardner: The Black Hand is often associated with, it’s even used interchangeably with, the mafia, but it’s not. It’s a variation of all that. They were principally into extortion and it was extortion by Italian immigrants and Italian Americans against Italian immigrants that they would threaten, they would blackmail. There were kidnappings, or threatenings of kidnappings, of murder, and unless you paid up money, unless you paid a percentage of your business. If you were an Italian storekeeper, you were a target. If you were an Italian professional who made money, you were a target of the Black Hand. 

Douglas: I recall reading that if you were the subject of this, you would get a letter. I don’t know if it was in the mail or it was just stuck under your door, and there would be a drawing of a black hand on it, or a couple different other symbols. 

Bumgardner: It wasn’t just a one time deal. Once you paid them, you kept paying to them. It was a regular racket, so you had to pay a percentage of what you brought in. It was a very scary time for Italian immigrants. And that’s a key point, it was such a small percentage of people, of Italians, who were doing this to other Italian immigrants that they were taking advantage of these people who had limited knowledge of the laws, of the language, of anything else. And many people felt like, well, the law enforcement is not going to protect us. Our neighbors aren’t going to protect us, so we have to either pay up or defend ourselves.

Douglas: Now we’ve set the stage for the audio drama, “The Last Train to Glen Alum,” let’s talk about what happened. 

Bumgardner: Again, it goes back to money. There were tens of thousands of dollars pouring into towns through railroad depots every day just to meet payroll. It was August 14, 1914 and the N&W train was coming into Glen Alum and Mingo County carrying its $7,000 cash payroll. Just like in old movies, they knew. The robbers knew exactly when the train was going to arrive. It always arrived at the same time. They knew how much money was going to be on, because the payroll was the same. It was very easy to plan when things are that scheduled and that regular. It makes it a lot easier to plan a robbery, especially when there’s not a strong law enforcement presence.

The telegram from Glen Alum announcing the murder and robbery that set off the manhunt through the mountains of Mingo County.

Douglas:  Sheriff Hatfield didn’t have a half dozen deputies standing around. 

Bumgardner: I don’t want to make it sound like a pleasant thing, because there was a lot of corruption. But, it was kind of like on “The Andy Griffith Show” in Mayberry, where there’s one sheriff and a deputy, and they can handle minor problems that occur. But three guys get murdered and $7,000 gets stolen, a handful of law enforcement people aren’t going to track these people down knowing that they’re premeditated murderers and robbers. I mean, this wasn’t a crime of passion. These people had planned this and killed in cold blood, and they certainly would be willing to do it again. 

A portion of Sheriff Greenway Hatfield’s posse. West Virginia Archives

He started with they think between 25 and 50 men, but nobody knows exactly. The mines shut down, businesses shut down, and men joined the posse. It eventually built up to hundreds of men. So Sheriff Greenway Hatfield had a small army to go after five men, but still they were looking in one of the most rural, rugged areas of West Virginia.

And so it was easy to hide, but if you look long enough, you’re going to catch them, because the criminals didn’t really have a great escape plan. That’s been my take on it forever, is that they planned the robbery. They planned everything about it, but they didn’t really figure out “How are we getting out of here efficiently?” Maybe they thought word wouldn’t spread. Maybe they thought they had a few days before anyone would find out. But it clearly wasn’t thought out very well.

Douglas: Orland Booten was actually a real character in history. He was the reporter for what was then the Williamson Republican newspaper. He went on to the Williamson Daily News after that and was a reporter in that region for 40-something years. I think it’s kind of fascinating that this was an actual reporter on the ground.

Bumgardner: And that was a very new thing. They didn’t have newspapers in Mingo County because there weren’t many people in Mingo County until around the turn of the century. That they formed newspapers just says something positive here. Although they didn’t always get the stories perfectly correct in their articles, they played an important role throughout the 20th century in West Virginia.

Editor’s note: Booten’s name was spelled different ways, but the version in this story seems to be the most prevalent.

Douglas: When the posse ultimately killed the robbers, they were Italian or appeared to be Italian, but nobody knew who they were. They laid them out in town like you see in the Old West stories. But nobody ever came to claim them. What does that say to you?

Bumgardner: Especially with immigrants in the early 20th century in West Virginia, the head of the family would come over first and establish himself, and then send for their families. And sometimes they never sent for their families. Sometimes, bad things would happen to them like, as we discussed with the Black Hand. So when you have so many new people pouring into an area, it’s hard to document who’s there. 

Mingo County’s population doubled between 1900 and 1910. There’s certainly a 1910 census that shows us who was there. But then, by 1920, it increased more than 50 percent again. And so there are people who are in and out of West Virginia between the censuses that nobody knew and that and that they probably didn’t have family, maybe not in this country. So when crimes like this happened, or people were killed, and you see this with miners, a lot with immigrant miners, is many of them were unidentified, or there was nobody to claim the body.

The five men from the Glen Alum payroll robbery.

West Virginia Archives.

And that worked, also, if you’re a criminal. That worked to your benefit, because if nobody knows you, then they can’t identify you. That was happening with prohibition. Right after prohibition was enacted in West Virginia, almost the exact same time, you have an influx of criminals who are just essentially jumping from state to state, who are taking advantage of prohibition by selling bootleg liquor, and if something happens to them, you know, they don’t have family, they don’t know anybody around. They’ve just disappeared, or they’ve run off with somebody. 

Another place you see that was the Hawks Nest tunnel disaster, not because they’re criminals, but you had hundreds and hundreds, some have estimated nearly 1,000 people over the years, died building the Hawks Nest tunnel. So many of them were anonymous because they had migrated to West Virginia, either from other countries or Blacks in the South. If they just disappeared, didn’t return home, didn’t send word home, the thinking was, well, maybe they just ran off, right? They went and got killed, and their identities were lost to history. 

Through Booms And Busts, Music Builds Hope And Community In Osage, West Virginia

Across the river from Morgantown, West Virginia is a small community called Osage. At one point, it was a bustling town full of people, industry, and nightlife. There have been a lot of changes here over the decades, but one thing’s remained: music. Aristotle Jones is one Osage resident committed to carrying on that legacy.

Jones is a professional musician and storyteller who plays what he calls “Appalachian Soul” – a mix of soul, R&B, doo-wop, gospel, funk, and folk. It’s an eclectic blend that reflects his identity as a Black Appalachian and specifically, his roots here in Osage. 

Roots that he can trace back to his grandfather, Robert Jones or “Brother Jones”, who was a coal miner, farmer and traveling gospel singer. 

“He would travel with his band throughout northern West Virginia to the coal camps, the Black, to the segregated parts of the coal camps,” Jones says. 

Jones lived with his grandfather for three years before he died. 

“He would teach me all these amazing, gospel songs that he used to sing,” Jones says. “He basically just started teaching me his catalog.”  

Aristotle Jones (left) and his grandfather Robert Jones (right) recorded several videos singing together before Robert Jones died in 2019.

Courtesy Aristotle Jones

Jones was raised in Huntington, West Virginia but would spend summers visiting his grandparents in Osage. He remembers playing in the creek, porch picking, and listening to stories about this little town. 

“I had heard these stories growing up, but once I lived here and experienced it, it became much more real,” he says. “We get to hang out in the middle of history here.” 

Living In ‘The Middle Of History’

In the early 1900s, dozens of coal mines sprung up along a tributary to the Monongahela River called Scotts Run. First came the jobs, then came the workers. Soon there were thirteen communities along Scotts Run. One of these towns was Osage. It was the hub.

Al Anderson was born in Osage in 1939. He’s a singer, shoe-repairman and somewhat of a local legend, known as the “unofficial mayor” of Osage. 

Aristotle Jones’ grandfather, Robert Jones, with his performing group “The Gospellaires” circa 1950. (From left, back row: Louis Snow, Robert Jones, Bob Williams. Front row: Luther Gibson, Lloyd Winfrey).

Courtesy Aristotle Jones.

“Up until the ‘50s, the only way to get to Morgantown was through Osage,” Anderson says. 

“The train come down all day long. Buses every 15 minutes, five or six restaurants, two theaters. The Bunny Hop was the dance hall. Everybody came to the Bunny Hop.” 

In its heyday before the Great Depression, there were around 5,000 people living along Scotts Run. And they came from all over. There were Ukrainians, Lithuanians, Mexicans, and African Americans. Jones’ great-grandfather moved here from Alabama as part of the Great Migration. 

In popular memory, there was a distinct culture of integration among the different ethnic groups in Scotts Run. It’s part of the history that many residents take pride in, including Al Anderson. 

“Everybody looked out for each other in this little town, Black and white,” Anderson says. “We had two schools up there, but we didn’t need two schools. The bell rings and we’re all back together. But when you get out of Osage, then everything was different, everything was segregated.” 

Jones says music played an important role in building community that transcended cultural differences. 

“What you get out of that particular time frame was the traditions of sharing music and making music,” he says. “Your blending of raw ethnic music coming from the different populations.” 

A mural in downtown Osage features the legacy of musician Al Anderson (left).

 Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

Although there was a strong sense of community among the towns of Scotts Run, life here wasn’t easy. Since the economy was directly tied to the coal industry, it was boom and bust, up and down, pretty much from the get-go. There were strikes and mine closures, and then the Great Depression. 

Then in the 1930s, Scotts Run attracted national attention–it became a poster child of poverty in the Appalachian coalfields. In response, a New Deal program relocated some Scotts Run families to Arthurdale, a planned community where families would get new homes, plots of land and government sponsored job opportunities. But only white, American-born families were eligible for relocation. 

“See, they didn’t take Blacks or foreigners,” Anderson says. “And I think that’s part of where the stigma started.” 

Anderson says folks from the surrounding area looked down on the communities of Scotts Run, and Osage in particular. 

“It was like literally the other side of the tracks,” Jones says. “So a lot of folks from Morgantown would come over here to have fun in the bars and have fun with the music, but it wasn’t viewed as something that was highbrow across the river.” 

Jones heard these stories growing up, but when he moved to Osage as an adult, he began to question that stereotype. 

“I was like, ‘Why is my history the place you don’t go?’ And then I found the truth,” he says. “And the truth is, it’s a wonderful place that people didn’t want to acknowledge because they wanted to exploit.”

Aerial view of Scotts Run and Osage, West Virginia.

 Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

As the mining industry declined, people moved away to find work elsewhere. Then in the late 1960s, another federal initiative shook the community once again.

A major interstate, I-79, was built right through Scotts Run, forcibly displacing many of the remaining residents–including Anderson’s family and Jones’ grandparents. It was part of a nationwide phenomenon where highway planners would build routes right through Black communities. Since the construction of the interstate, Osage has been nearly swallowed up by development.

Watch This Special Inside Appalachia Folkways story below: 

Finding Community and Building A Future

Today, the downtown of Osage has a familiar look to it — the look of a town marked by the boom and bust of industry-–boarded up windows, empty lots, a highway roaring not through it, but around it. The population of Osage has dwindled to about 80 residents. And while most folks have moved away, Jones has found his way back. 

“I never thought I would live in Osage,” he says. “But living with my grandpa really touched me because he was older. So he was telling these stories and it made me kind of fall in love.” 

After his grandfather passed away, Jones decided to stick around. 

“What you see now in Osage, it’s not the same as what it was,” he says. “But this end of the town is sparking up a lot of energy for those who want to be part of it. And I think it’s those that are seeking out community that see a future for Osage.” 

Just last year, Jones started the Osage Gospel ‘n Soul Community Choir alongside Anderson, with support from the Scotts Run Resonance Project.

Al Anderson says the Osage Gospel ‘n Soul Community Choir is “one of my favorite times of the month.

 Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

Members of the community choir come from all over. There’s a few who grew up in Osage, but many are transplants to West Virginia. At this particular choir meeting, there’s a group of about 15 people, young and old, Black and white. There are even two people wearing onesies–a shark and a duck. At the front of the group is Jones, in a tan bowler hat, playing guitar and leading the choir in song. 

The group sings a variety of songs from different genres and eras, including many of the gospel songs Jones learned from his grandfather. 

“Me, I get to pay a little bit of tribute to the lessons I learned from my granddad, passing that tradition that meant a lot to me, to other people,” Jones says.

Aristotle Jones (right) and choir member Shelley Riley (left) singing “Oh, Happy Day” at the monthly choir meeting.

 Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

The choir members aren’t the only ones making music in Osage today. Down the road, there’s a steel drum factory founded by Ellie Mannette, a musician from Trinidad. His apprentice Chanler Bailey opened up a studio where he teaches the steel drum to students of all ages.

“I do feel the sense of community blossoming,” Jones says. 

Near the end of the choir meeting, Jones leads the group in one of his songs called “Salt Of The Earth.” He wrote it as an ‘anthem’ for West Virginia.

The choir sings it twice, belting out the chorus: “Our roots run deep and we stand tall / We are West Virginia.” 

“I’d searched for a long time for a way to call West Virginia home,” Jones says. “So when I moved here, that gave me an opportunity to not only feel at home in my own skin, but to feel at home in my own state.” 

Jones says Osage has historically been a place where folks came from all over to find a sense of community and belonging. Now, over a hundred years later, Osage is still that place.

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Production assistance for this story was provided by Ella Jennings and Jake Taylor. 

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.

Tags: Real Appalachia, Folkways, WVPB, Arts & Culture, Inside Appalachia, Folklife, Music, Scotts Run, Osage, West Virginia 

Music In Osage And The Wakefields, Inside Appalachia

During the Great Depression, the river town of Osage, West Virginia was a raucous, little place. It’s sleepier now, but music is keeping the magic alive.

Also, after six generations, the struggle to keep a family farm going can be rough.

And the Federal program 340B cuts the price of prescription drugs for people who most need them. So, why are attack ads falsely connecting it to border safety?

In This Episode

The Enduring Music of Osage

The Wakefields, The Saga Of Two Brothers And Six Generations

Truth And Lies About 340 B


Aristotle Jones (right) and choir member Shelley Riley (left) singing “Oh, Happy Day” at the monthly choir meeting. Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

The Enduring Music of Osage

Just across the Monongahela River from Morgantown is a small unincorporated community called Osage. Years ago, it was a bustling, industrial town with a thriving nightlife. Today, Osage isn’t quite so bustling, but the love of music endures among its residents. Folkways Reporter Clara Haizlett had this story. 

Thad Wakefield stands in his family’s field. The Wakefields have farmed for six generations, but it’s becoming more difficult to continue. Cade Miller/Courtesy

The Wakefields –Two Brothers, Six Generations

The Wakefields have been farming in Pennsylvania for six generations, but the struggle to keep the family business going reached a breaking point when one brother decided to retire. Cade Miller, with the Penn State News lab, brought us this story.

The group went on to take credit for Blairs lost election. The group says that Blair failed his district (Senate District- 15) by protecting the federal 340B program. The 340B program is not taxpayer funded and is in no way related to immigration policy.
Screenshot of one of the “Stand For Us” Pac campaign ad.

Truth And Lies About 340 B

340B is a federal program that requires drug companies to provide medicine at discounted prices to pharmacies and hospitals serving vulnerable communities. But the program has been the target of a smear campaign that’s affected West Virginians. WVPB’s Briana Heaney explained. 

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Our theme music is by Matt Jackfert. Other music this week was provided by John Blissard, Aristotle Jones and Brother Robert Jones, Larry Rader, John Inghram and Blue Dot Sessions. 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. We had help this week from folkways editor Mallory Noe-Payne. You can find us on Instagram and Twitter @InAppalachia.

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

You can find us on Instagram, Threads and Twitter @InAppalachia. Or here on Facebook.

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Inside Appalachia is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

Conserving W.Va. History, Joining A Silent Book Club And Celebrating Tourism, This West Virginia Week

On this West Virginia Week, we spend some time in the Eastern Panhandle and learn about a new Battlefield Park, hear from a Harpers Ferry author and explore the unknown future of the John Brown Wax Museum. We also travel to Morgantown to experience a Silent Book Club, and then south to Logan County to check out the hopes riding on the inaugural Governor’s School for Tourism.

On this West Virginia Week, we spend some time in the Eastern Panhandle and learn about a new Battlefield Park, hear from a Harpers Ferry author and explore the unknown future of the John Brown Wax Museum.

We also travel to Morgantown to experience a Silent Book Club, and then south to Logan County to check out the hopes riding on the inaugural Governor’s School for Tourism. 

In other news this week, we learn the latest on the health of the coal industry in West Virginia, check in on a campaign to improve foster care, hear from the state Board of Education meeting and visit an archeological dig in Malden.  

Liz McCormick is our host this week. Our theme music is by Matt Jackfert.

West Virginia Week is a web-only podcast that explores the week’s biggest news in the Mountain State. It’s produced with help from Bill Lynch, Briana Heaney, Chris Schulz, Curtis Tate, Emily Rice, Eric Douglas, Jack Walker, Liz McCormick and Maria Young.

Learn more about West Virginia Week.

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