Abstract
This work represents the authors’ contributions to a multidisciplinary community development project about Scotts Run—a community that sprang up along a creek of the same name in western Monongalia County, West Virginia. Lyrics and recitation resulted from intense engagement with a core of remaining residents who related their stories about life up and down the creek. The songs and recitation were combined with several other songs, readings, narrations, videos, images, and artifacts in a public performance that engaged the residents of Osage and Scotts Run in a telling of their own story.
Keywords
Poor Folk Ready for a Better Day
Copyright © 2014 John Christopher Haddox and Robert Gregory Shaw I’m gonna stand in this creek While the waters cool my feet Let the mighty hear me speak Poor folk ready for a better day Down in Osage along Scotts Run We’re worn down, but we ain’t done Send the word to Washington Poor folk ready for a better day Hey, hey, what do you say? I’m holding out for a better day Boy, howdy, and A-OK Eleanor Roosevelt is on her way Send my kids with an empty sack Picking coal on the railroad track Light the fires down at the Shack Poor folk ready for a better day Someone told us, someone said The kids will all get cozy beds They’ll wake each day to milk and bread Poor folk ready for a better day Hey, hey, what do you say? I’m holding out for a better day Boy, howdy, and A-OK Eleanor Roosevelt is on her way Let that engine whistle sound When Mrs. R rolls into town Hope she’s passing pork chops ‘round Poor folk ready for a better day The President hears from his miss Franklin, here’s the grocery list Butter, eggs and banana splits Poor folk ready for a better day Say goodbye to the daily strife Grab the kids and grab the wife It’s Arthurdale and the country life Poor folk ready for a better day Poor folk ready for a better day Well, we thought that maybe all could go But the government said we gotta take this slow We gotta do it right, you know Poor folk ready for a better day I tested good to work the land They traced my feet and traced my hands I showed twice the grit as any man Poor folk ready for a better day And it’s hey, hey, what do you say Some’s got luck and some’s in the way Boy, howdy, and do-si-do (a reference to Eleanor’s passion for square dancing) Eleanor Roosevelt where’d you go? You’re white, alright, you made the count But no names good English can’t pronounce And no blood too dark by half an ounce Poor folk ready for a better day I’m gonna stand in this creek While the waters cool my feet Let the mighty hear me speak Poor folk ready for a better day Poor folk ready for a better day
The Ballad of Scotts Run
Copyright © 2014 John Christopher Haddox Seven miles long from its head to its mouth Joins with the Mon coming up from the south Pull up a chair and I’ll tell you about This place that we call Scotts Run The American Indian made the first claim Then the ships and their dreamers ‘cross the ocean they came The creek was given an old Irish name And it came to be known as Scotts Run The woods were soon cleared and the farming began The earth was turned up by the plow and the hand A family could make its own way on this land Life was good up and down Scotts Run There was coal at their feet in the thick Pittsburgh seam But the farm life remained the mountaineer’s dream Then the world went to war in nineteen fourteen Brought changes along Scotts Run The boats started sailing from Europe again And trains from the south brought in more working men Cheap muscle was needed to load up the bins With the coal that lay under Scotts Run Shoulder to shoulder all day and all night Italians, Hungarians, blacks and the whites They were all poor together and that made it alright It was all for one on Scotts Run They lived in close quarters in company shacks They watched money leave by the ton down the tracks Great fortunes were made on poor men’s backs It was hard up and down Scotts Run But hard though it was the people still say They wouldn’t take nothing in trade for those days You could count on your neighbors in every way It was family out there on Scotts Run The mines they ran safe up until forty-two Then the mines started blowing like they’re known to do Took eighty-nine lives before they was through The tears ran high in Scotts Run Little by little the mines went away The houses came down and the tipples decayed It was sad goodbyes as folks went on their ways But they never went far from Scotts Run And the world seemed content just to cover its eyes Saying some have to sink so that others can rise They built their new highway and passed her on by Washing their hands of Scotts Run But some stuck around, they’re no strangers to sweat And if you are a gambler you’d better not bet That the end has arrived cause it ain’t over yet There’s new life springing up on Scotts Run Seven miles long from its head to its mouth Joins with the Mon coming up from the south Pull up a chair and I’ll tell you about This place that we call Scotts Run
They Thought: A Recitation in Five Languages (Greek, Russian, Hungarian, Spanish, and English)
Copyright © 2017 John Christopher Haddox
(Greek)
They, the companies, thought they could turn us against each other
That’s how they were gonna’ keep the union out
Figured if they got us busy fighting each other, talking about each other in ways we didn’t talk about each other
Then we’d be too busy with that to stay organized enough to make the union dream a reality
(Russian)
What they didn’t know—what they didn’t understand—what they failed to see
Is that even though we came from nineteen—count ‘em—nineteen different countries
Even though we spoke many different languages—had different customs and different ways of going about
In spite of all that, we had one, two, three, four—hell we had so many things in common that origin, color, language—none of those things mattered
We didn’t even notice the differences—what differences?
We were all strangers in a foreign land
We were all poor as the dirt under our feet and nails and our poorness bound us together like some strange glue
We had all walked away from the familiar to seek a new life in these coal camps
(Hungarian)
What they didn’t know—what they didn’t understand—what they failed to see
Was that we were people—and people have much more alike than they are different
The thing that company didn’t get is that we were all these things together
I mean together as in one community—one body
(Spanish)
They thought they could come through the camps and drive us apart—like we was a dead log or something
They’d put in a wedge, pound it down with a sledge and just like that—we’d be split in two
Then they’d drive another wedge and split us again
Well—they had something right about it, I suppose
(English)
Except’ we weren’t a dead log, but a living tree—a tree with more branches and leaves than they figured on
A tree with roots that spread the world around
A tree that had weathered countless storms and hard times
A tree that only got stronger—tougher—more stubborn with the passage of time
Seems an age old approach—those with the money trying to keep those without money from coming together
Well . . . money can’t buy everything nor can it stop everything
And they thought they could turn us against each other . . . . . . (laugh)
Come All You Young Miners
Copyright © 2014 John Christopher Haddox Come all you young miners and heed what I say When you get to the daylight, don’t come back this way The mines will lay claim to your family and friends When you crawl down the hole, the trouble begins I went to the company at seventeen years Against my father’s wishes and my mother’s tears They hoped I’d find something to take me from here They knew well the mines and knew well the fears But I was young and headstrong with only one dream To work by my dad in that old Pittsburgh seam I’d always been lucky and could not foresee The day any trouble would catch up to me Come all you young miners and heed what I say When you get to the daylight, don’t come back this way The mines will lay claim to your family and friends When you crawl down the hole, the trouble begins One evening the roof and the floor did colllide I could not reach the others, but Lord knows I tried Alone in the dark hoping help would arrive I tried to be strong, but Lord knows I cried Say goodbye to my family, goodbye to my friends I’ve turned down my lamp, the air’s getting thin I’ll see them in heaven when our souls there do rise This note and my body I’ll leave here behind Come all you young miners and heed what I say When you get to the daylight, don’t come back this way The mines will lay claim to your family and friends When you crawl down the hole, the trouble begins
Scotts Run: The Setting
Scotts Run is a seven-mile long creek whose name became synonymous with the string of communities that sprang up along its banks in response to the world demand for the high-quality coal that was deposited there 300 million years ago during the Carboniferous Period. Numerous manuscripts, storytelling projects, and photographs highlight the daily existence of an ethnically and racially diverse population that sought to dig out a living from one of the richest coal seams in the world—the Pittsburgh seam.
Situated along the Monongahela River in Monongalia County, West Virginia, Scotts Run and the surrounding area was first home to Native American peoples of the various tribes including Shawnee, Delaware, and Mingo. The first settlers of European origin arrived in the mid-1700s and scratched out a living raising livestock and small gardens on the hilly terrain. The presence of coal was noted, and farmers dug small mines to obtain small quantities of coal for heating. The first surveys to assess the coal-producing potential of the area were conducted in the 1830s, and by the early 1900s, two companies had purchased land and coal rights for eventual mining operations. Agriculture remained the primary activity up and down Scotts Run until the onset of World War I. Coal production in the county increased tenfold to nearly 4.4 million tons over the period from 1914 to 1921 (“Wonder Coal Field of WV,” 1923), with the Scotts Run mines accounting for the lion’s share of the increase.
In 1935, the Farm Security Administration (FSA) sent photographer and photojournalist, Walker Evans, to the Scotts Run area to document the effects of the Great Depression. Walkers’ images revealed to the world a racially and ethnically diverse community that sat atop great riches, yet whose people lived in sometimes extremely dire conditions. There were immigrants from 19 countries across Eastern Europe. In addition, transplants from America’s deep south came north to work the mines. Not as well-known as the Europeans, workers from Mexico found themselves in the mountains of West Virginia looking to earn their living in the coal mines.
While the increase in war-related coal production brought wealth to a select few, the daily existence for the typical miner and his family was one of danger and poverty. Three large-scale mine disasters in 1942 delivered death to 89 miners. Local historian and Scotts Run resident, Lou Birurakis, has documented smaller incidents over the years that account for several hundred additional fatalities (Birurakis, 2017).
Despite the harsh physical conditions that accompanied life in a coal camp, there were plenty of good times. Families counted on and enjoyed each other’s company in numerous ways. This largely immigrant community had plenty of differences, yet it was a community united by the common bonds of hard labor and hard times.
Osage, the crown jewel of Scotts Run, was the quintessential natural resource-based boom town. At its’ apex, it sported two theaters, a host of stores offering goods and services, a lively nightlife, and plenty of houses of worship to serve the residents of Scotts Run. Holding all of this together were the people of Scotts Run who were bound by the common thread of peoples in tough times trying to make it to the next day. If a man was killed in the mines, his wife and children did not go unattended to, but were taken in and cared for by other families, regardless of race or nationality. The coal company policies did not provide for widows and children in this circumstance.
Worker’s unionization efforts to improve working conditions and wages were met with strong and sometimes violent opposition by the mining companies. The residents of Scotts Run laughingly recount the companies’ failed efforts to get the communities in-fighting—using race and ethnicity as leverage points—as a way to distract them from their union work.
The once strong and well-connected communities of Scotts Run slowly dissolved as some of the mines played out and as mechanization displaced jobs in the mines that were still viable. The coal trains stopped running, coal infrastructure either came down or was left to deteriorate, company-owned homes that were never very solid to begin with were sold to individual families who often had no means of keeping them up, and the exodus to the cities in search of jobs began. The major through road, Route 19 north, was a main artery to neighboring county seat, Morgantown. All traffic from the north had to pass through Scotts Run. That all changed, however, with the construction of a new bridge over the Monongahela River and the ensuing development of Interstate 79 right through the neighborhoods that were situated on the hill above the creek. According to the locals, I-79 took around 400 homes, effectively gutting the once thriving community. This new interstate has since fostered rampant sprawl development, choking out most of the local businesses. In addition, the interstate and ensuing development all sit much higher on the hills surrounding Osage, adding to the feeling of isolation and forgottenness of the once thriving center.
Notwithstanding the forces of progress that seem bent on completely erasing all remnants of Osage from the map, the remaining residents of the area are committed to ensuring that their stories are not forgotten. The Scotts Run Museum and Trail entertains visitors from across the globe who come to learn firsthand about life in an Appalachian coal community. In addition, the Scotts Run Museum is often the first stop for those interested in the Roosevelt New Deal communities as it was the conditions that existed along Scotts Run that steeled Eleanor’s resolve to create and situate Arthurdale—the first of the New Deal Communities designed to lift Appalachia’s people out of poverty—a mere 20 miles away.
Keeping the Story Alive
There are many ways to tell a story. One can readily find online or in coffee table books the stark photographs of West Virginia coal camps, including Osage and Scotts Run, captured by the now famous New Deal photographers Walker Evans, Marion Post Wolcott, Arthur Rothstein, and Ben Shahn. Newspaper archives provide glimpses into both daily and extraordinary events. Scholars such as Ron Lewis have documented the daily life up and down Scotts Run in academic journals. Writing projects have captured the stories and accounts of various residents who lived in Osage and Scotts Run. Museums and visitor centers have remarkable collections of artifacts related to mining and the everyday life of mining families. While these avenues provide valuable insight into the stories they are telling, they often lack the ability to touch those viewing the artifacts.
Scotts Run Museum
The Scotts Run Museum, situated in Osage, represents a labor of love for those who have some connection to Scotts Run. Visitors to the museum are rewarded with an up-close “please touch the artifacts” approach. More often than not, the museum is frequented by the very people whose stories the museum is retelling and visitors get to hear firsthand about the events they may have read about or seen in one of the aforementioned sources.
Several years ago, Eve Faulkes, a professor of Graphic Design at West Virginia University, began engaging her students in projects with the Museum. The projects revolved around different ways to communicate the stories—often providing fresh perspectives to very old stories. Examples of the work under Eve’s direction include doll houses that are scale replicas of the original company-owned houses that many of the local residents lived in. Another project involved creation of interpretive signage to identify to visitors the local buildings and establishments that in some cases were the centerpieces of the New Deal photographs. A large mural celebrating the racial and ethnic diversity and the accomplishments, especially musical, of some of the locals adorns a wall overlooking a new community garden.
Music and Song
Music and song offer another approach to relating a story in human terms. It was after the creation of the aforementioned mural that I was brought into the project. The community expressed interest in an idea Eve had floated about creating a musical CD that would feature the Flying Colors, an intergenerational gospel group comprised of several residents of Scotts Run, singing the songs of faith that have and continue to carry them through good times and hard. The twist would be that the project would also include narration about the community and songs written specifically with and about the community. Song was such a vital part of daily life—why were there not songs telling their specific stories? The idea was that the CD would reach yet another audience and provide those who visited the museum something to take with them. The group also floated the idea of a small concert to announce the completion and availability of the project.
Methodology
Introduction to the Community
While she had not heard the song, Eve was aware that I had written a song years earlier that was somewhat about Osage. Not mentioned by name in the song, Osage’s story served as the basis for a composite story about the boom and bust cycle of so many “resource extraction-based economy” towns in West Virginia. That song, based purely on my own observations and infused with some details from local newspaper accounts of other West Virginia towns facing hard times, did not have a particularly happy ending. She suggested I attend one of the weekly open meetings held at the Scotts Run Museum and play the song for the crowd to see what they thought. I countered that I’d like to just attend and hear what they were talking about—to get a feel for what was important to them. If it seemed right, I’d play the song.
I did attend and was introduced as a professor of community development and someone who had not worked in the mines, but grew up in a rather infamous coal mining community in southern West Virginia. I was interested in and wanted to see what was going on with the Scotts Run Museum and this CD project idea.
As I looked around the small museum while listening to the conversations, the stories, and the excitement about the idea of a CD, two realizations starting sinking into my head. The first is that I had been connected to this community for longer than I realized. Nearly 20 years ago, I had co-written a production that was set in Osage. The story focused on the life of a fictional character who fled Osage under questionable circumstances and who returns and unwittingly rights some wrongs that he never did in the first place, ultimately securing posthumous redemption in the eyes of his unknown daughter. The production was performed in the gymnasium of the now closed Cass Elementary School—only a few hundred yards from where we now sat—and the proceeds from the evening performance, US$2,000, went to the emerging Scotts Run Coal Mining Museum. The items I was looking at in this Scotts Run Museum had originally been in that fledgling collection.
The second realization was that the song I had written and that Eve hoped I would play that evening captured only a part of this town’s struggles. Moreover, it had captured a part that was barely being talked about by those in attendance. I had missed so much with my focus on the past glory and what was gone. All around me were folks who had lived through what I had written about—folks who were in their 70s, 80s, and 90s talking about the better days to come and how their story needed told in new and exciting ways.
Eve’s mention that I had written a song about Osage snapped me out of an almost dreamlike state. The first response from those gathered was, “let’s hear it!” I was hesitant for the aforementioned reason that it was not really just an “Osage song,” but rather a composite song. Rather than playing it, I told them how it came about—the result of my reading a newspaper headline about a small town going through the dissolution of the town charter and ceasing to become a town. “It is not a happy story, I said. Furthermore, it does not capture anything of what I’m hearing this evening.”
Dodging a performance that would have been counter to the evening’s energy, I instead asked their permission to engage with them.
May I come back and listen to your stories and conversations? Can I come back and look at the museum artifacts with you? May I bring my students to visit and listen to you tell them your stories? Do I have your permission to discern what is important and what needs telling? Do I have permission to write your songs . . . not my songs . . . permission to mess it up and have you tell me what needs fixing?
While there were cordial head nods and affirmations, I was nervous. It is one thing for a songwriter to create a song and play it for an audience that has pretty much the same basis of understanding of the topic as the writer. It is quite another to take on the writing of a piece that aims to communicate such a long and complex history as that of Scotts Run—especially when your first audience will be the people about whom you are writing!
Over the following few months, I met with Scotts Run residents at their homes, at the Scotts Run Museum, at their places of business, and at their community street fair. I perused my university’s history collection to find the academic papers, the newspaper stories, the government documents, and the pictures to corroborate the stories I had heard firsthand. I went back to the people with my questions—to clarify, to fill in missing details or simply to just hear something again to reflect on the position a particular story, feeling, or incident held in the community’s collective memory.
The stories shared with me ran the gamut from the everyday to the special occasion. From the joyous to the sad. From the serious to the funny. Having grown up in West Virginia, I was not at all surprised to be embraced in this community’s arms and treated like one of their own. We laughed and cried together over life’s events and their particular twists and turns in the string of communities up and down Scotts Run.
The Songs
Three songs were created in response to the engagement with the Scotts Run Community: The Ballad of Scotts Run, Poor Folk Ready for a Better Day, and Come All You Young Miners.
The Ballad of Scotts Run
During the information gathering, and depending on the setting and who was present, several themes emerged. I was hearing a great deal about daily life up and down Scotts Run. The people had so much to offer on the history of the area’s development, the incredibly deep sense of community, the racial and ethnic diversity, the contributions to the nation’s economy and security, the feelings of being used up and discarded by that same nation, the dangers of working in the coal mines, and the dispersion of loved ones in search of work when the mines played out or became mechanized. In the midst of this, there ran a constant thread of thankfulness for having grown up in such a wonderful place and an unstoppable sense of optimism for the future of the area. The Ballad of Scotts Run attempts to capture as many of these sentiments as possible in a way that is accurate historically and, more importantly, accurate in the eyes, ears, and minds of the Scotts Run residents.
Poor Folk Ready for a Better Day
First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt visited Scotts Run for 2 days in 1933. Appalled at the poverty she witnessed, she soon thereafter created a model of experimental rural communities that would serve to catalyze a new and better life for those suffering under the conditions of the typical mountain mining community. The first of these communities, Arthurdale, would be created only 25 miles from Scotts Run and would absorb 110 families from Scotts Run.
I had been to Arthurdale on many occasions. There is a heritage foundation that owns some of the original homes and buildings and does a wonderful job of communicating the history to visitors from around the world. Visiting Arthurdale, one gets a sense of the tie to Scotts Run, but that is about it—just a sense. To fully understand what happened in between the idea for Arthurdale and the execution of the experiment, one needs to dig more deeply—down to the roots.
The folks of Scotts Run told me stories about Eleanor visiting their homes, eating bread with them and her vision the overall excitement that in their words, “the poor folk were finally going to get their day.”
I was told things that I found difficult to believe—things I corroborated with my own research in the West Virginia University Regional and History Collection. I found the original application for residency in Arthurdale. Yes . . . people of color were singled out. People who were not first-generation Americans were singled out. People with deformities of hands and/or feet were singled out. People without previous agricultural experience were singled out. People who were viewed as lazy or trouble makers were singled out. It appears that Eleanor desired an inclusive community, but her handlers in the U.S. Department of Interior and administrators at West Virginia University saw to it that only the “right” people were selected for the experiment.
The people of Scotts Run wanted a song about this. My songwriting partner, Robert Gregory Shaw, assisted with this creation.
Come All You Young Miners
A theme in any coal camp is the ever present threat of death. Mines are dangerous, unforgiving places in which to work, and most will say that it is not a matter of if the mine will take a life, but when. Such is the case with the mines up and down Scotts Run. Mr. Lou Biraukis, a Scotts Run native and de facto local historian of the area, has tracked down every coal mining fatality that was reported in local newspapers going back to the earliest of records and puts the number at 300. While any fatality is a disaster, most of the fatalities occurred in small, isolated incidents in the various mining operations. However, an 8-month period between 1942 and 1943 saw 89 miners lose their lives in three separate episodes. The community of folks with whom I was working felt these impacts directly—losing husbands, fathers, and brothers. They talked about how their loved ones never went into the mine without the supplies to write a farewell note should they need to do so. Coal mining songs are part of the rich musical tradition of this area—this song, while never referencing Scotts Run in particular, does reference the Pittsburgh coal seam that lay under the Scotts Run area and was such a huge part of the daily life of those living in the area.
Results
I walked into the regular meeting guitar in hand. Aside from the many folks I had been working with, there were a few new faces in the room. All were gathered to hear what this “outsider” had to offer as “their” story. The two songs to be unveiled were the Ballad of Scotts Run and Poor Folk Ready for a Better Day.
The Ballad of Scotts Run was a bit of a surprise for those gathered. We had spent so much time talking about Eleanor Roosevelt’s visit and the ensuing creation of the Arthurdale community, that this is what they were expecting to hear. I explained that I had two songs and would first play the Poor Folk Ready for a Better Day, then the Ballad.
Poor Folk has two sections. Section 1 portrayed the current conditions, the hopes, and excitement about Mrs. Roosevelt moving the people from the coal dust–stained holler to the clean country farm (ironically, this is what all of Scotts Run used to be, albeit the geography was much more steep and narrow than that of Arthurdale). The second part reflects the reality of the situation. How Mrs. Roosevelt’s vision of a racially and ethnically diverse community that mirrored the makeup of Scotts Run was met with resistance by her handlers in the U.S. Department of Interior. How she was instructed that the “right” people needed to be selected to head up the new community. Right meant White, American born, not inclined to laziness, smart enough to farm, no physical defects, good with your hands, Christian, and so on.
Reaction
I was nervous. I asked them to please listen closely and to let me know if I missed the mark on anything. Asking them to be honest was really not necessary—I knew that. I was in a room full of people as honest as the day is long. The older portion of the crowd ranged in age from 80 to 93 and would not be shy about letting me know their thoughts.
As I played, some quickly picked up the chorus and sang along. Others acknowledged references to places/incidents through verbal and nonverbal means. There were looks back and forth to each other and looks around the room at the artifacts—some of which were mentioned in the song. Still others stared ahead.
I made it through Poor Folk and then explained a bit about the Ballad. While Poor Folk contained an upbeat first section and bluesy “what happened?” second section, the Ballad was more of a reflective, pensive piece . . . and long! After all, I was trying to capture a large chunk of history here and they had provided so much fodder that I felt the need to include it all. While many of the references in Poor Folk were met with smiles, some smirks, and knowing nods of the head, some references in the Ballad were met with tears and looks that ranged from nostalgic, to sad, to determined, to joyous.
The songs were difficult for me to get through—something I have yet to master as a storyteller is always removing myself from the telling. When finished, I sat quietly . . . so anxious to know if I got it right. If the references were accurate. If the elements that stood out to me were the same that stood out to them, for they had shared so many things with me. If I was too forward with their stories—their possessions. Did I pick up on the right elements of their stories?
One by one, there were nodding heads, smiles, and expressions of satisfaction. Mrs. Little looked at me with teared eyes and said quite frankly, “that was sad and hard . . . but it was so true and wonderful.” Another woman whose name I had heard, but whom I had yet to meet and talk with, sat stone faced in the corner. Eve asked her what she thought and all looked her direction—it was clear she enjoyed a place of respect among the crowd. A smile came across her face, and she commented that it was good to a collective sigh of relief—none sighing harder than me.
Unknown to me, Eve was capturing the unveiling on her phones’ camera behind my back and a small snippet of that remains (she transferred the clip to her computer that ultimately crashed) on the Scotts Run Museum and Trail Facebook page.
The CD Project
The group was excited about getting the CD project up and running. Eve’s graphic design classes were working on cover ideas, and the Flying Colors began selecting the songs they would record. A few other performers were contacted about contributing to the project. One had written a song about the heydays of Osage that referenced many of the local watering holes and characters of the town. A steel drum group was also chosen to represent the fact that the father of the modern steel drum, Dr. Ellie Mannette, had left Trinidad to set up shop in Osage after visiting here on a guest professor in 1991. Another example of the history of ethnic and racial diversity in Scotts Run. Al Anderson, the local cobbler, unofficial mayor of Osage, member of the Flying Colors, and former singer with Billy Ward and Dominoes, shared some songs that were representative of his early years in rock and roll. Eve Faulkes provided opening and closing narrations that set the stage and challenged listeners to consider the lessons contained in the music in light of the current state of the world. The CD was completed in June 2016.
Public Performance
The big question regarding the CD was, “what next?” It was available for sale and the Scotts Run Museum and Trail. People were promoting it via word of mouth and their social media sites, and we had lightly discussed the idea of some type of public performance. In October 2016, the dean of the WVU College of Creative Arts got wind of the CD and expressed interest in helping promote the effort. Among those pulled into the meeting was Arts Monongahela—a local art advocacy group. Several meetings and discussions later, we had a venue and a budget. There would be two shows—one at the historic Met Theatre in Morgantown to kick off the summer concert series and another at the Hazel Ruby McQuain Riverfront Amphitheater in Morgantown.
While we certainly had a concert’s worth of songs to perform, all involved felt that this opportunity to go public warranted the creation of something more than a concert. The songs should be used as stage setters and exclamation points to other components of the storytelling. The production would feature a mix of songs, projected imagery (historic and current), video clips of Scotts Run residents who could not participate in a live setting telling stories about the area, and a recitation that would feature Scotts Run residents. The transitions between the different aspects would be handled via narration.
As the final decision to have two public performances, with the first being on June 1, 2017, did not come until May 5, to say we were working under pressure is the understatement of the year. There were additional pieces to be written, interviews to be recorded, images to be gathered, captions to be crafted, musicians to be recruited, advertising to be created, tickets to be sold, and rehearsals to be held. A videographer was hired to assist with the interview taping and to also capture as much of the show development, and actual performance, as possible. In addition, she would capture more in-depth footage for the creation of a 58-min documentary of the project for public television.
Inspired by the frequent references to coal company attempts to use the racial and ethnic diversity of the area in a divisive way to thwart unionization efforts, I asked about creating a piece—a recitation—that would be read while representative images were projected onto the screen. The resulting piece was entitled “They Thought” and was divided into five stanzas—each read in a different language—to represent the immigrant population that worked the mines up and down the creek. Here was a piece I had written and was not performing—it turned out to be perhaps one of the more evocative pieces of the production. An intergenerational effort featuring two Scotts Run residents—Greek and African American—and three recent immigrants to our area—from Russia, Hungary, and Mexico. Ages ranged from 19 to 83 (see the still photo of an elderly gentleman reading from his script beside a young Russian woman reading from her phone)! All the while I am thinking to myself, “all these cultures, all these ages, one stage, one common story with different beginnings—this is the answer to our world challenges today—we can be in the same room, in the same communities—we need to be.”
On Thursday, June 1, 2017, the Songs and Stories of Scotts Run was performed live at the Morgantown Metropolitan Theatre. Creative and technical guidance came from the West Virginia University College of Creative Arts and the West Virginia University School of Design and Community Development. The cast featured several current and former residents of Scotts Run who told their stories through songs, readings, narrations, videotaped interviews, and still imagery. The stories centered on hard times and good times, financial poverty and social abundance, racial and ethnic diversity and community, and inclusion and exclusion. The underlying purpose was not to just relate a history lesson, but to relate lessons learned to today’s situations.
For example, at its’ zenith, the population of the Osage and Scotts Run area was over 60% immigrant, with 19 nationalities being represented up and down the creek. This diversity was expected, needed, welcomed, and celebrated. While the mine companies hoped to use the ethnic diversity as a tool to divide people so they could not organize a union, the residents saw themselves as united by the bonds of hard work and extreme living conditions—bonds that knew nothing of race or ethnicity.
The venue for the show was significant for the people of Osage and Scotts Run. Morgantown is the county seat and lies across the river from Osage and Scotts Run. Much of the wealth that was extracted from the mines ended up in Morgantown, helping that community to grow and prosper. The Metropolitan theater itself, a showpiece in its time, would have been largely off limits to non-Whites and those from the “wrong side of the river.” Should they have had the funds to attend a show at the Met and been allowed in, they would have been relegated to the upper balcony seats—not on this night. On this night, the people of Osage and Scotts Run were front and center. On stage were their own people. Among them was an African American woman whose father was killed in one of the aforementioned mine explosions in Scotts Run. She eventually became Mayor of Morgantown and served several terms in the WV legislature. She often recounted her experiences of having to sit in the balcony of the very theater that she, as Mayor, helped rescue from abandonment and neglect. This was a night for redemption on many fronts.
Doors opened at 5:00 for the 7:00 p.m. show. Musicians and performers were the first to arrive and began going through their warm-ups. The AV technicians were double checking equipment, and the house manager was taking care of last minute details. From where I was milling about—the stage and the wings—the house looked big and empty. I wondered what kind of crowd would show, but was of the mind that no matter what, this was going to be a special evening. The Scotts Run folks were also in the wings—excited as school kids for what was about to happen. Their collective wisdom and lack of worry left them wondering about who would show up, but not concerned at all “if” they would show up. Unseen to us was the growing crowd in the main lobby. I took a moment to make my way to the lobby and there witnessed people filtering in, stopping to talk and hug. They were exchanging stories and viewing the museum artifacts that had been moved to the lobby for the event. It was working: the publicity that consisted of shares on social media, newspaper ads, and word of mouth.
About 30 min before show time, the crowd starting finding seats. The orchestra seats went quickly—full of people witnessing their story being told to them, in large part by them, on the main stage. Slowly the rest of the house filled—400 in total. On this night, the ones in the balcony seats were there because of their timing—it had nothing to do with color or social standing.
The house lights were lowered. A few introductions were made. Eve set the tone with an overview of what folks were about to witness. I walked to my “x” on the stage, stood there for a moment, and took in the faces of those who had entrusted me to help communicate their story. With the opening guitar notes, the songs and stories of Scotts Run were being replayed to a knowing audience while a new audience was being brought into the fold.
Seven miles long from its head to its mouth . . . joins with the Mon coming up from the south . . . pull up a chair and we’ll tell you about . . . this place we call Scotts Run . . .
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
To the good people of Osage and the Scotts Run communities, Monongalia County, West Virginia.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: Funded by West Virginia University, Morgantown, USA.
Supplemental Material
Supplementary material for this article is available online.
Author Biography
References
Supplementary Material
Please find the following supplemental material available below.
For Open Access articles published under a Creative Commons License, all supplemental material carries the same license as the article it is associated with.
For non-Open Access articles published, all supplemental material carries a non-exclusive license, and permission requests for re-use of supplemental material or any part of supplemental material shall be sent directly to the copyright owner as specified in the copyright notice associated with the article.
