All photos by Eleanor Goldfield.

On the national stage, there is not a lot of chatter about coal anymore. Once the fuel that drove the engine of US “progress,” coal use has plummeted primarily due to market forces and the difficulty in extracting the coal that is left.

Despite the propaganda line, the one thing that has not killed King Coal is regulation — the little that ever existed. For instance, the Obama-era regulations on coal ash ponds that Trump recently proposed scrapping merely put a deadline on dumping toxic coal ash in unlined ponds. In other words, rather than outlawing toxic dumping straight into earthen holes, Obama let it continue under the guise of environmentally conscious oversight. With regulations like these, there are not any industry constraints that deregulation can loosen. Put simply, the King is dying. The lustful spark between capitalism and coal is fading.

Wilma Steele, co-founder and board member of the West Virginia Mine Wars Museum has watched the downfall of coal from the front lines. Married to a former coal miner, and born and raised in the heart of coal country, she is clear about what is killing coal. “It’s the market. That’s all it is,” she says. “If the money’s there, they’re gonna go after it. And the Presidents will follow along.”

When the money was good, coal was protected. On November 7, 1973 for instance, in the throes of the oil crisis, President Nixon addressed the nation, appealing to industries and utilities to stick with coal rather than converting to oil in the interest of energy independence. Sound familiar? A report released by Huff Post in late November 2019 unearthed a coal industry publication from 1966 that proves big coal knew about the science behind climate change.

As with Exxon, however, the profit far outweighed the realities of impending climate chaos. The coal industry poured millions into propaganda that uplifted coal as a necessary job and energy creator.

“Mine slower, plan faster”

“Prove You’re Against Coal Mining — Turn Off Your Electricity” reads one bumper sticker I pass on the Highway 64 outside of Charleston, West Virginia. At a state visitor center, you can buy miniature bibles and angels sculpted from coal. To put it mildly, this coal culture runs deep. And today, despite backburner status, coal company bankruptcies and market downturn, big coal is trying to float on entrenched loyalty from both people and politicians in order to go after what is left in a hurry.

“We’ve been saying for years: mine slower, plan faster.” Wilma folds a red bandana in her hands and smiles a deeply kind yet resolute smile. Her husband Terry nods in agreement. A former mine worker and member of the United Mine Workers of America, Terry Steele proudly says that being part of a union is the most important thing he has ever done. The UMWA were not only a big part of Terry’s career, they are a big part of the Mine Wars Museum, a collection of exhibits that highlight the largely erased history of radical solidarity and labor organizing in West Virginia coal country. The museum is on the same block where the Matewan Massacre took place, a climax event for workers’ rights that propelled miners to take up arms in the Battle of Blair Mountain a year later.

Terry is still active in UMWA, and is again proud to announce that it has branched out to work outside of mining, for instance in nursing homes. His hope is that they can branch out to renewables as well, giving folks in the area good-paying jobs in green energy. “That’s how you make an environmentalist,” Terry says leaning back. “You gotta give somebody something to work at. You can’t just put ’em out on the street with nothing.”

This is where the call to “mine slower, plan faster” comes in. West Virginia’s rolling hills are ideal for both wind and solar. And the flattened planes of former mountain top removal sites could easily become hilltop beacons of renewable energy, without needing to destroy any of the remaining hills or hollers. Indeed, many of the locals have already been planning and doing for quite some time.

Paul Corbit Brown, president and chair of the Keepers of the Mountain organization lives off the grid in a solar powered home accessed via quaintly southern directions: past the gas station and local store, past the church and a right after the train tracks. There is no address and no cell service. But there is plenty of water, heat and electricity. Paul’s home is an example of what could be, and his work includes not only hosting a Solar Music Festival every year but also reaching out to local folks who could make the switch to renewables and thereby become other active examples of what a just transition might look like here.

The problem, as Paul says, is how to keep up with the destruction. Rather than mining slower, the industry literally blew the top off of traditional mining, opting to decapitate entire mountain ranges in order to access the harder-to-reach coal, much like fracking gets at difficult to reach oil and gas deposits. As Terry says, “It’s only the scraping of the peanut butter jar, trying to get the last of that peanut butter.”

And while folks on the ground plan and work for sustainable futures, government and industry are not only mining faster, they are building fracking infrastructure that will replace coal with gas. The transition is an easy one for industry — fracking can use the same tricks and tools that the coal industry did, like the separation of surface and mineral rights. Surface rights are just that — ownership of the surface of a specific property. Mineral rights, however, dictate that you own and have access to minerals beneath the surface of a property. The fracking industry has used this cornerstone of resource extraction to access gas beneath surface properties they do not own or have permission to be on.