How The BBC Tapped A Local Reporter To Cover Kentucky’s Flood Recovery

Inside Appalachia host Mason Adams spoke with Katie Myers and Philip Reevell about the process of making a documentary in this way, with one reporter from the area and another from an overseas outlet. 

This conversation originally aired in the March 5, 2023 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Katie Myers was working her first journalism job at WMMT/Appalshop when last summer’s floods struck eastern Kentucky.

Myers plunged into her work as a reporter, while also living through the flood and recovery alongside neighbors in her community. Her knowledge and rapport with local residents is evident in “Kentucky Flooding,” a 38-minute audio documentary that aired on the BBC Documentary show and podcast. It was produced by reporter Philip Reevell, who flew in from the UK to report on the flood’s aftermath. 

Reevell worked closely with Myers. Since she was a local reporter, with knowledge of the area, she was able to help guide him and introduce him to people. And to powerful effect. 

Inside Appalachia host Mason Adams spoke with Myers and Reevell about the process of making a documentary in this way, with one reporter from the area and another from an overseas outlet. 

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Adams: When the Kentucky assignment came up, was it a story that came from you, Philip?

Reevell: It came from me. I’d been reading about the floods. It’s a pretty devastating story. I pitched the idea to the BBC World Service editor. And then I reached out to Katie to help us do it. And that’s how it came about.

Adams: As I understand it, Katie, WMMT/Appalshop was among those places affected by the flooding. Can you talk about what happened with the flooding in your employer?

Myers: The Kentucky River had gotten high enough to do something like that since ‘57. There was no expectation that this could happen, even in a heavy rain. We figured it would just lap at the bottom of the building, and we’d have to deal with some water damage. That day, though, I forget exactly how many feet, but it was something like six feet into the first floor. So the theater, the radio station, all of our equipment, this beautiful art we had hanging downstairs in the gallery, and all this stuff got destroyed. Our archive has decades of precious recordings and film and photographs, documenting life in Eastern Kentucky. That was very severely damaged.

Reevell: That was how I came across the story. That really resonated with me. A photo was tweeted out looking down on Appalshop and showing how high the water had risen. It was like a building within a lake of water. As time went on, we were able to connect with Katie to help us understand how the floods had affected this cultural center that had been there for over 50 years.

Adams: So you’d seen the photos, Philip, you’d corresponded with Katie and other folks. What did you see when you landed on the ground at Whitesburg?

Reevell: I arrived a few weeks after the floods. When I got there, the cleanup was still going on. Katie showed me around different areas in the town and around in the hollers, which were devastated. It was pretty shocking to see houses that had been washed away from the road. Then to see people living in tents beside the road where their home had been washed away. Or to meet people who were still clearing out a home that had been ruined, pulling up the floor or pulling down the wall. That was really pretty shocking, frankly, and upsetting to see how people’s lives have been totally turned upside down.

Adams: What strikes me when I listen to this documentary, is it’s immediately apparent that Katie has been living through the recovery. And not just that, but actively participating in the recovery efforts. Katie, can you tell us what life was like in those weeks between the flooding leading up to some of this reporting with Reevell?

A photo of a camp where people were living as they cleaned up their flooded homes. Credit: Philip Reevell

Myers: I want to, first off, say that I wasn’t directly affected by this flood. I was pretty lucky. I didn’t lose anything, I didn’t lose anyone. I still had a job and still had an income, so I was much luckier than a lot of other folks. This is my first journalism job, and I still am navigating the ways it changes your relationship to people. Sometimes, like, you end up seeing everything through a lens or through the microphone instead of just as a person. There’s this fragmenting of identities that you can have as a journalist. And I was just one person. In this situation, it’s like, of course you help people. What else are you going to do? There’s nothing else to do. Everybody is trying to dig themselves out of a hole, and what kind of a person are you if you don’t try to help them out? That was what everyone was doing. And it seemed very natural to do. 

Adams: What kind of response did you all see once this documentary aired?

Myers: There’s always this constant worry that eastern Kentucky will be forgotten. And just the fact that people from so far away were so interested in the place’s story, I think that really meant a lot to folks. One thing a 3:30-minute radio feature also can’t do is really let people talk. I think this piece allowed people to just just talk in it. People wanted to express and understand what had happened to them. All you had to do is ask one question, and people would just start going off because, like, nobody was going to see their therapist. You know what I mean?A lot of folks don’t have an outlet to talk through like these traumas that have just happened to them. I think being able to hear that was really powerful.

——

Listen to the full interview by clicking or tapping the “Listen” button at the top of this story, or check it out on Inside Appalachia.

The BBC Documentary, “Kentucky Flooding,” also is available to hear on the BBC. 

You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive – Derek Akal’s Struggle to Stay, Part One

Derek Akal, 22, grew up in the famed coalfields of Harlan County, Kentucky. He’s a bit over six feet tall, he’s black, and he has an athlete’s build. Neat curls of black hair rise off the top of his head, and on his chin, he keeps a closely-trimmed mustache and goatee.

I first interviewed Derek in October 2016. At that time, he said he was trying to become a Kentucky state trooper, but also making plans to move to Texas to work on an oil rig. 

By November, Derek still had one plan to find work near home, and another plan to move West, but both plans had changed. Now, he was following a lead on a lineman job that would have him climbing utility poles and making plans to move to California after his birthday, in March.

Plans Through the Whole Alphabet

For Derek, changing plans is part of the plan. When I asked Derek what would be the first thing he’d want people to hear from him in this story, this is what he told me:

“It’s okay if you want to stay. It’s also okay if you want to leave. But if you’re going to leave, then make sure you always have more than three plans. Plan A, plan B, plan C—  you’ve got to have through the whole alphabet!”

Derek has had a lots of ideas about what he could do at home, and he’s told me he would stay home if his mom or grandma asked him to, but the plans Derek has gotten most excited about all involve him moving somewhere far away.

“That’s where I might have a future. I know I’m young, but I’m ready to get out there and do a lot.”

Plan A: Football Dreams

Derek was raised primarily by his granddad, his grandma and his mom.

“Because his father wasn’t around. His grandfather was his father,” said his mother, Katina Akal.

When Derek was a junior in high school, his granddad passed away.

Credit courtesy Derek Akal
/
Derek Akal with his grandmother and mom

His grandma and his mom said they noticed that Derek became more withdrawn. He started to focus more intensely on a goal his granddad had pushed him toward— excelling at sports to hopefully earn a college scholarship.

You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive

His senior year, after a summer dedicated to working out, Derek became a football star. “I got defensive player of the year. I got four district championships, and I got three regional championships. You know, I dedicated all that [to] my granddad.”

Harlan County High School’s football field is called Coal Miner’s Memorial Stadium.  It has huge metal bleachers on two sides, and a giant modern scoreboard behind the end zone. It’s in a beautiful spot, a patch of flat land that was blasted out of the wooded hillsides that surround it.  

When Derek and I visited in November, the leaves were at their most colorful. A gym class was playing flag football, and the sound of gunshots told us someone was out hunting nearby.

Derek started to get nostalgic, remembering how he used to feel back when he played here as a Harlan County Black Bear. He told me about times his blood and tears fell onto the turf. He told me about walking onto the field before games, in front of a roaring crowd that would sing along to the country hit “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive.”

Credit Benny Becker/ WMMT
/
Derek Akal

In the deep dark hills of Eastern Kentucky

That’s the place where I trace my bloodline

And it’s there I read on a hillside gravestone

You’ll never leave Harlan alive 

“I’m not a big fan of country music,”Derek said, “but you know it got me pumped up like crazy. I love it.”

The last game of the season, Derek got hurt. Some of his teammates had the opponent’s running back held up, so Derek charged in to help make the tackle.  

“As soon as I hit him, my head cocked all the way back, and I felt the back of my head touch my back. I broke my neck—   I broke my C1 and my C2… If I hadn’t gotten hurt I’d be playing for a bowl game right now with a D1 college.” 

Going Away to College

Derek was in a neck brace for four months, but he was still getting college scholarships to play more football. He accepted a scholarship to attend the University of the Cumberlands, in Williamsburg Kentucky. It’s only two hours from Derek’s home in Harlan County, but the college draws students from all across the country.

There, Derek sometimes felt like an outsider. In Williamsburg, he stood out for the way he talked—  for his Harlan county accent.

Many of his classmates were surprised that someone who looks like him, a clean-cut and fashionably dressed black man, could be from rural Kentucky.

“They’d be like, ‘oh where [are] you from?

And I’d say, ‘Two hours away in the mountains.’

And first thing, they be like, ‘You serious? You don’t even look like you’re from Kentucky! You look like you’re from Georgia or Florida or New York City, city places like that.’

I’m sitting here like, ‘No man, I’m from Harlan County Kentucky!’”

That wasn’t the only discomfort Derek felt with being a young black man in Williamsburg. Derek said his feelings about the town soured after he and a friend had their car searched by police twice in one week.

“We gave [the police] the license and everything, and he was like, ‘oh, I thought you guys had stuff on y’all.’ I can’t read minds, but seeing a couple of black guys together, I feel like we got profiled right there.”  

Things on the football field weren’t going great either. Two games into the season, Derek’s neck started bother him again. He became afraid that playing more football could make his spinal injury become more severe.   “I didn’t want to play no more,” Derek said, “because, you know, I want to be able to walk.”

Derek was homesick, and he didn’t want to get deeper in student debt, so he decided to drop out and move back home. 

What Now?

Derek’s mom says that when he got home, he was afraid that she and his grandma would be disappointed in him, but she understood where he was coming from. ” “I said,‘look, college is not for everybody. Do what you feel like you want to do.’”

“Go do something,” his grandma urged him. She said, she worries there aren’t jobs in Lynch; she would like him to get out if it means he can find work. “Go get yourself a job. I don’t want him to stick around here, walking these streets.”

Credit Benny Becker/ WMMT
/
Derek Akal

Derek’s mother agrees. “I’d rather for him to go find work and be a productive member of society. I’d rather him do that than stay here and be miserable, because I can see it already. I want him to go somewhere that he can be happy.”

Derek’s mommas, as he calls them, instilled in him a drive to get out of Appalachia and find opportunity elsewhere. “I got it in my head that I can make it out, and be something for myself, by myself.”

Derek’s not the first person in his family to have that thought. In the next chapter of Derek Akal’s Struggle to Stay, we’re going to hear more about how the hunt for better work and a better life has affected Derek’s family and community for generations.

This story was produced by WMMT in Whitesburg, Kentucky, and the Ohio Valley ReSource, which is made possible with support from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Music in the audio version of this story was provided by Marisa Anderson. We’ll hear the next part of Derek Akal’s Struggle to Stay story next week, here on Inside Appalachia.

Exit mobile version