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The Interview

The Interview. It was a small wood frame house tucked back into the hillside. I straightened my tie and knocked on the door. No one answered. I was puzzled because the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, knew that I was going to be there. I knocked again. It was then that I saw the barrel of a gun poke out from the door that had just barely opened. I stepped back and tentatively said, “Hello, I’m with Marshall University and I had an appointment with you today to talk to you about the state restoration efforts in the aftermath of last year’s flood.”


“I don’t know anything about that, just leave. Now!”


Needless to say, I didn’t hesitate to leave. I was already nervous because this was my first scheduled interview and now I was being threatened with a gun. As I walked away from the porch, a woman, carrying a small grocery bag at the side of the street, looked at me and asked, “Are you from Marshall? Did my husband threaten you?” Before I could answer, she yelled, “Charlie, did you threaten this young man? Don’t you remember I told you that he was coming by to talk about the work the state did to help us out after the flood? Put that gun away and be nice!”


She turned back to me, “I am so sorry. My husband doesn’t remember things very well these days. I’m Mrs. Smith.” I thought to myself that she looked older than she should be. I shook her hand and introduced myself. She explained, “I just got back from the store. I wanted to get you some cookies to eat while we talk. I made you some iced tea.”


“Thank you Mam, but that’s really not necessary.”


“Of course it’s necessary. Come on in and make yourself at home.”


I hesitantly walked in behind Mrs. Smith. “You know my daughter graduates in May from Marshall. First person in our family to ever get a college degree. She’s going to be a teacher.”


You could hear the pride in her voice as I said, “That’s exciting. You must be so very proud of her. You know that I am the first person in my family to graduate from college. I graduated a couple of years ago and now I am working on my Master’s Degree.” Mrs. Smith reminded me of my own Mother who was so proud of me.


I noticed that her husband had put the rifle in the corner of the living room. I sat down on the couch and put my interview materials on the coffee table. The room was literally full of family pictures. She put a plate of cookies and a glass of ice tea next to my materials. She and her husband, Charlie, sat down across from me. I remembered that Professor Bruce had told us that many people in this area do not like to speak to strangers. I concluded that this was not going to be the case with Mrs. Smith. I explained, just as Professor Bruce had taught us, that there were two parts to the interview. One was a questionnaire in which I would record their answers. The second part was an open discussion of what they thought of the efforts of the state to rebuild the town after the devastating flood last year.


“Well, I will do most of the talking. Charlie is sick and can barely breathe and, as I said, he doesn’t remember much these days.” I sensed that Mrs. Smith was lonely and wanted to talk. The questionnaire took about 25 minutes and then I simply let Mrs. Smith talk.


“My parents moved here in the early 1930s during the Depression looking for work. Daddy took a job in the mines and I was born in 1935. Times were tough and I’m glad I don’t remember much of it. The mines started booming during the war and Daddy had all the work he wanted. During the war he survived a mine cave-in, broke 17 bones in his body. By the early 1950s, he already had the cough, the black lung cough. The coal boom in the 50s made our little town prosperous but everything was owned by the coal companies. Nothing new happened in our town unless the coal companies allowed it. They built the schools, the theatres, the grocery stores, the libraries, the parks, you name it. They were the major investors in the banks so they controlled them as well. Anyway, I got married to Charlie in 1955. He was several years older than me. He had quit school after the 10th grade and went to work in the mines. It’s what all the men did in our town at that time. We had Becky, our only child, the next year. Even though the mines had become somewhat safer in the late 60s, I wanted to leave but it’s the only thing Charlie knew, the only way to make money and provide for us. So we stayed. Charlie developed the black lung cough just like my Daddy and then he barely survived a mine cave-in a couple of years ago. He suffered a head injury and, well, he never really healed. He can’t remember things, so he doesn’t work anymore. He’s on disability and also gets a small check from the government for his black lung. I’ve been a seamstress all my life so that brings in just enough extra money for us to survive. If Becky hadn’t gotten the scholarship to go to Marshall, she’d still be here, probably married and her husband working in the mines.”


I thought about asking her a question, but decided against it. “Last year’s flood devastated our little town. We’d had floods before but this was the big one. I’ve never seen the Tug River like that. At least one third of the town completely wiped away. Some people claimed it was due to the mining companies who were now beginning to get coal through mountain top removal rather than just the deep mines. Anyway, we were part of the lucky ones during the flood. This house is located just out of town and just high enough that water didn’t get to us. Many people lost everything. Rather than rebuild as they had done in the past, many just packed their bags and left. Those that stayed worked tirelessly to clean up the town. Some in our community were now homeless. They moved into trailers that the state provided. Who knows how long they will be living there. It was a huge clean-up effort. Literally everything was dirtied by the water even the money in the vault at the bank. My daughter said that one of her friends helped her Dad at the bank by literally hanging up dollar bills from the vault on a clothes line so they would dry.”


I smiled as I pictured a clothes line with hundreds of dollar bills hung on it with clothes pins. By this time, I had decided not to ask questions, I let her go on. “You know we are a proud, hard-working people back in these mountains. We don’t want any handouts but I just wish, I wish life was a little bit easier. It’s always a struggle here. I think the town folk are very appreciative of the efforts of the state to help us after the flood but honestly, as I look back, it came too late. The help should have come long before the flood. Why is coal mining the only industry in the area? Why did the mining industry work to keep other industries out of the area? Why must all jobs be tied to coal mining? And now, it’s obvious that most of the deep mines are running out of coal and there is a turn to mountain top removal. Mountain top coal removal, no matter what the consequences like more and bigger floods, is done primarily by machines. That means fewer workers will be needed. How are people here going to make a living? My daughter came home last weekend. I looked right at her and told her there’s nothing for you here. You must leave after you graduate. Only come back to visit.”


We spent a week conducting interviews and stories for our report to the state. We then worked a month analyzing the data and putting the report together. Professor Bruce was very proud of our efforts and the hard work we had put in. He made sure that all of our names were printed as authors of the report. I graduated in December of the following year. My thesis focused on what is known as mono-product economies or areas that are characterized by the existence of only one major economic product such as coal. My father, who worked on the railroad which, of course, was tied to the coal industry, looked at me after the graduation ceremony and said, “Your Mother and I are so very proud of you. But, there’s nothing for you here. You must leave and only come back to visit.” It was the very same thing that Mrs. Smith had told her daughter.




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