Growing up in Appalachia meant growing up close to the land, close to our people, and close to the things most folks' hurry past. We lived a little behind the rest of the world- maybe a generation or two by their standards- but it never felt like we were lacking. Life moved slow enough for us to hear it, and we learned early that listening was half of living. Little Indian Creek Holler in Kentucky Little Indian Creek is where my days were spent. That water had its own way of

The Upper Big Branch Mine Disaster On April 5, 2010, tragedy struck in the coalfields of West Virginia, forever changing the lives of 29...

Have you ever felt the power of faith surround you like the mist on a mountain morning? Well, if you've ever ventured into the heart of...

As I sit here, contemplating my roots and where my ancestors come from, I am struck by a realization that both sides of my paternal...