‘ Now is the time,’ say residents of area isolated by its lack of modern roads
ON U.S. ROUTE 52 In southern West Virginia, they call this the Highway That Time Forgot, a 100- mile, two- lane stretch of stomach- churning switchbacks and careening coal trucks, clogged by stop- andstart school buses and slow- driving seniors.
Infamous are its ear- popping ascents and declines, its oscillating speed limits, paucity of passing zones, and its 333 ( by one count) substandard curves. Rock ledges tower over the road, and sometimes boulders fall on it.
That Route 52 is the best east- west connection through the coal fields — two entire counties have not an inch of fourlane road — testifies to how badly the area needs the divided highways the rest of America takes for granted.
President Trump promised to “bring back coal” and put miners to work. He also promised $1 trillion for U.S. infrastructure and highways. To Trump supporters here, that’s as important as his coal promises. Highways, in fact, are seen as liberation from coal’s economic tyranny.
“If we could get highways in here, we wouldn’t have to depend on coal,” said Ray Bailey, the assessor in McDowell County, where Trump got 74% of the vote.
He tacitly admits that although Trump
may be unable to revive an industry that has been declining for decades, he can at least build some roads.
“Now is the time,” said Gordon Lambert, a county commissioner, a Democrat and a Trump voter. “If we don’t get our highways this time, we won’t get them in our lifetime.”
His constituents are desperate. In McDowell County, 1 in 3 adults works for a living, and the largest employers are the schools and two prisons. Last year, even Walmart pulled out.
The lack of highways has exacerbated the isolation that for two centuries has been Appalachia’s curse.
“Interstates are the roads, canals and railroads of our early history, all rolled into one. If you don’t have them, you can’t develop,” said Bugs Stover, the Wyoming County circuit court clerk. He once walked 100 miles to the state capital to present the governor with a petition to match federal highway funds.
Like many people here, he pines for two massive projects: the King Coal Highway and the Coalfields Expressway, which would crisscross southern West Virginia, bypassing Route 52 and its ilk. They’ve been on the planning board for decades, but only 6 drivable miles have been constructed.
There are two notable monuments to this futility. One is the Highway in the Middle of Nowhere, a 1.5- mile roadbed constructed 17 years ago but still unpaved and unconnected.
And at the eastern end of the Highway That Time Forgot, near the Virginia line, there is the Bridge to Nowhere. The twinspan, four- lane, 20- story structure was completed a decade ago. But it dead- ends into the aptly named Stony Ridge.
“They built my bridge, but then the money ran out,” said Christine West, 84, a retired state Highways Department employee for whom the bridge is named.
THE FALL OF COAL
When southern West Virginia first had coal, it didn’t need highways. Coal was mined by people who lived near mines, and it was taken away by rail and river. When the interstate highway system was built, it was easy to bypass a state so mountainous that the average cost per mile of construction was as much as eight times higher than in a place like Kansas.
For a time, it seemed the King Coal Highway and Coalfields Expressway would open up the region and diversify its economy. Their greatest champion was U. S. Sen. Robert Byrd, a ranking member of the Appropriations Committee who was famous for bringing federal pork back to his state.
There were setbacks and delays: the national recession in 2007, Byrd’s death in 2010, the rise of the fiscally conservative Tea Party movement and the elimination of congressional budget earmarks, which Byrd and his allies used to get the projects started.
What federal highway money did come into West Virginia often was directed by state officials to areas with more people and better prospects for economic growth.
Politicians kept promising roads that never materialized. In 2014, the accumulated disappointment helped defeat Byrd’s protégé, U. S. Rep. Nick Rahall, a 36- year incumbent; his Republican challenger, state legislator Evan Jenkins, accused him of not doing enough to get highways built.
THE CASE FOR HELP
Those who demand more highways would never use the word “reparations.” But given the region’s reduced political clout and elusive development potential, that is what their case for funds boils down to.
The argument rests on three premises: that when the coal industry was booming, southern West Virginia was a big net exporter of tax revenue; that federal policies, especially environmental ones, undercut coal mining; and that the region was unfairly bypassed by federal interstate highway construction.
The proposed solution: Washington helps the region to diversify economically by funding highways. Even better, unemployed miners could help build them.
“There’s no better place in America for the government to say, ‘ Here’s what we did to you, and here’s what we can do for you,’ ” said Richard Browning, director of the Coalfields Expressway Authority, a creature of the state ( albeit recently defunded after 20 years) that lobbies for the highway. What government will say is unclear. New Gov. Jim Justice, like Trump a billionaire businessman, wants to build roads and proposed issuing bonds to do it. He faces a huge budget deficit and opposition to his proposed increases in the state gas tax, license renewal fees and turnpike tolls.
Trump could make common cause with Democrats, but they oppose his inclination to encourage infrastructure construction primarily through privatesector tax credits.
Trump promised to remember “the forgotten men and women.” Here on the Highway That Time Forgot, those men and women will remember his promises.
“Interstates are the roads, canals and railroads of our early history, all rolled into one. If you don’t have them, you can’t develop.” Bugs Stover, Wyoming County circuit court clerk