Free Something's Rising: Appalachians Fighting Mountaintop Removal by Silas House and Jason Howard

danger.
    It all started one morning in November 2006 at the Graceway Methodist Church, when a neighbor bragged after the service that May Brothers Mining Company (very distant cousins to May) had approached him about buying his land to start miningin the head of Wilson Creek. This neighbor also claimed that three other families had already sold to the company.
    Turned out the neighbor was misinformed; no one on Wilson Creek has sold anything yet. But the coal company is breathing down their necks, and as of this writing it seems certain that the company is intent on mining in and around Wilson Creek, including the long ridge that stands between that holler and Stephen's Branch, which runs parallel to it. And Bev May is not certain that her neighbors won't sell. “Money talks, especially when you need it,” she says. “No doubt about it.”
    May, fearing that if only one neighbor sold out a domino effect might result, went straight into action. With help from KFTC, she secured space at a community center in Maytown and went door to door, inviting people to come to a meeting to organize and fight the coal company that seemed intent on invading their world.
    Several months before this summertime jaunt up the mountain, May is presiding over the second meeting of residents from Wilson Creek and Stephen's Branch on a cold night in December. Concerned citizens are gathered in the Maytown Community Center, which was once the lunchroom for the Maytown Elementary School. Maytown is made up of about 200 souls, well-kept houses, an abandoned school, and four or five streets. An old camper serves as the community store, where cigarettes, pop, and candy are advertised in spray-painted handwriting on the exterior walls. The little town sits in a bowl near the railroad tracks, the mountains encircling it like gray, jagged arms. This night a thin snow falls like tiny feathers and the cold makes the night, void of a moon, seem even blacker.
    The community center is freezing, but the furnace has been fired up and rumbles as everyone files in, brushing the snowflakes from their hair. The group is gathered close in a circle, not only to hear but to gain one another's heat. May sits on a couch that seems to want to swallow her up, silently watching for more peopleto arrive; the others are all caught up in various states of conversation. Their talking is punctuated by laughter and heads that shake with frustration.
    “I guess we ought to get started,” May says, so quietly that it is surprising when everyone stops talking at once and turns to face her. However, everything about May—her face, her carriage, the way she uses her hands to illustrate what she is saying—suggests kindness and intelligence. It's no wonder that people listen when she speaks: instead of demanding attention she simply respects everyone else's thoughts enough for them to pay extra attention to hers. Plus, she's a medical professional, and people in the mountains respect doctors. May is quick to point out that she is not the only college graduate in the group, however, and she's not even the only college graduate in her holler, despite stereotypes that would suggest otherwise. After the meeting, May also downplays her role as organizer of the group. “Oh, what happens is I tend to be the one that passes around the notices about meetings and calls people and tries to let them know what's going on. That's about it,” she says modestly.
    May launches into the meeting, intent on getting business done, but not aggressively. She wants to include everyone, to make sure all those gathered have a chance to say their piece. She goes around the room, allows everyone to introduce themselves, gives all those present the time to make their announcements. Many of the residents are here because they absolutely do not want the coal company to come into their holler. Others are here because they still haven't figured everything out and want all the information they can get. Some have