I‘ve spent thirty years underground, breathing in the dust and history of these Appalachian hills. Now, in late 2025, my breath comes short, a rattling reminder of the price we paid for “keeping the lights on.” They call it Black Lung; I call it the sound of a man running out of time. But lately, it ain’t just the miners who are wheezing—it’s the whole state. We’re witnessing what the folks in suits call “demographic decline,” but down here, it just feels like we’re being erased. Continue reading →