Olivia Weeks: Alan Maimon talks about ‘Twilight in Hazard’ and his continuing interest in the region

Alan Maimon spent five years writing about Eastern Kentucky for the now defunct Hazard Bureau of the Louisville Courier-Journal. In 2000 he lived as a young reporter in Berlin and was about to make a big career leap. He had a vague idea that he still wanted to feel like a foreign correspondent for his next job. But he got nervous about immersing himself in the expat’s lifestyle.

When he saw the job ad in Hazard, the Philadelphia native thought he could have the best of both worlds – a permanent place in the United States and a rich cultural experience. As it turned out, he would be the last reporter to take the opportunity. The Kurier-Journal closed its Hazard office in 2005.

Alan Maimon

Part memoir, part field notes, and part extensive American political analysis, Twilight in Hazard is “a story of how America and its institutions of Eastern Kentucky failed, but for better or for worse, how the people of the region shared their idea of ​​Americanism. “

A conversation with Alan Maimon:

Olivia Weeks, the daily over there: You ended up being a reporter in Hazard about fifteen years ago. Why should you think about your years in eastern Kentucky now? Why is this book different from the Appalachia Explainers’ pool, written by outside reporters?

Alan Maimon: It is impossible to understand the current challenges facing eastern Kentucky and the country as a whole without examining how we got here. I reported on Appalachian Kentucky during a crucial and turbulent time that included the opioid crisis outbreak, environmental degradation, political corruption, September 11th and its aftermath, and a growing cultural and political divide in our country. Every story and topic I wrote about in the early and mid-2000s still resonates today, especially those relating to how the historic dominance of the coal industry affected economic development in southeast Kentucky.

One of the reasons Twilight in Hazard is different from other books is that it was 20 years in the making. I worked in eastern Kentucky for more than five years and maintained my relationship with the area by marrying an 8th generation Appalachian.

I don’t see the book as an “Appalachian Explainer”. At its core, it’s a story that zooms in and out of the Kentucky Mountains to examine the unique American forces at play in the region. Nor do I present myself as some kind of oracle that has all the answers. If I don’t know what to think of something, I say so. I hope this adds to my credibility as a narrator.

There are two ways to tell a story. The first is to tell it in a way that leaves little or no room for conversation. That’s the way things are and always will be. Then there’s the approach I’ve tried which encourages the conversation by presenting information and leaving it up to the reader to decide what might come next.

A constant thread through the book is that this is an exciting and crucial time in eastern Kentucky. While the region’s leaders have long talked about the need to diversify the region’s coal-based economy, in the past these talks lacked a sense of urgency.

Today I think it is recognized that the coal is not coming back this time. And economic development officials are more seriously engaged in creating a multi-faceted economic transition. That’s an important part of the story I’m telling.

Weeks: In a chapter in Twilight in Hazard, “The Day the News Left Town,” you wrote of the Louisville Courier-Journal’s removal of its regional offices, including your post in eastern Kentucky, at a time of general decline the news industry. Did your role feel precarious while you were on the job? Does it seem like part of the job is proving the value of rural stories to your city paper?

Maimon’s book “Twilight in Hazard” was published on June 8, 2021. (Image: Melville House Books.)

AM: This question touches on what is probably the greatest internal struggle I have faced as a reporter in eastern Kentucky, namely how I and the newspaper presented the region to a primarily urban and suburban audience. I’ve thought a lot about how I’ve portrayed the area in my stories.

There was no shortage of news on my beat, and it was logical to believe that a steady stream of front pages from eastern Kentucky would cement the Hazard bureau’s relevance. At some point, however, I began to question my newspaper’s reporting priorities. This marked the beginning of an era we still live in when newspapers anticipated the challenges and opportunities of the internet, as well as new initiatives that led to less in-depth journalism. I’ve spent enough time in eastern Kentucky to understand the importance of presenting a three-dimensional portrait of the area. I appreciated the chance to work on a series on the Kentucky criminal justice system that was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. But I often ran into editors looking for some quick clickbait for breaking news and corporate holdings who ultimately felt an office in eastern Kentucky was no longer necessary.

Much disturbing news came from the region as I reported on it daily. These stories are fundamental to understanding Eastern Kentucky, but in the book I have tried to put these stories into context and assess their relevance in the context of the intergenerational struggles of the region.

Weeks: Where does your news about the area come from now?

AM: In the years since the Courier-Journal and Associated Press closed their offices in eastern Kentucky, it has been harder to find out what is happening in the area. I still have sources there. I stream the local CBS subsidiary WYMT on my TV. The Lexington Herald-Leader still reports solidly from the region. And I’m glad there are news outlets like The Daily Yonder. But what is still missing is an overall view of this very special part of the country. That’s a big part of the reason I wanted to write the book, to connect the many points that will hopefully make a bigger picture.

I think it’s also important to point out that less coverage from eastern Kentucky opened the door to bad journalism. I was concerned about the coverage of the region after the 2016 presidential election when many national reporters parachuted in to see what Trump Country looked like. Most of the stories that emerged were not only built on flawed premises, they also had a real meanness. For years I’ve talked about the evolving election trends I’ve seen in eastern Kentucky, so it was disappointing to find the 2016 election being so lazy to report.

Weeks: I wonder if here, as you do in this book, you can explain the term “bad nerves” and what it means to the Appalachian Kentuckians. How did you see it as more than a simple bat?

AM: I’m glad you asked that question because the Bad Nerves storyline is about more than just high anxiety rates and clinical depression. These diagnoses suggest a larger and little-reported phenomenon in places of urban and rural distress: intergenerational trauma.

Over and over again in interviews, I heard people use the term “bad nerves” to describe the illness that had qualified them for extra bailout. I didn’t really know what to think of it at the time. But a huge SSI scandal that broke out after I left the Kurier Journal motivated me to research the subject in the book.

In the 2010s, the SSI programs (and Social Security Disability Insurance) came under the microscope in what is known as the largest social security fraud in American history. It was falsified medical records and was committed by the disability attorney Eric Conn of eastern Kentucky, an administrative judge, and several doctors.

Not a single one of Conn’s clients was accused of knowingly participating in the program, but I think there was the public perception that the SSI recipients were involved in it and were just trying to play the system off. Then something happened. Social Security cut off more than a thousand of Conn’s customers, and the suicides began. A man in Floyd County who lost his monthly check took his own life. Then a woman in Martin County did the same. These actions indicated that many of Conn’s customers were not involved in a “simple racket” and that their mental or physical agony was real.

There are a few counties in eastern Kentucky where one in four residents has an SSI or SSDI. State and federal regulators have sounded the alarm because the rate is so high. But the number of people receiving disability benefits is not the problem. It is the symptom of a number of larger problems that I expound in the book.

Weeks: How is your relationship with the area now? What are your key stops on your visit?

AM: I now have a dual relationship with the area. My journalistic instincts remain strong, but my other affiliation with the region is that of the husband of a Harlan County miner’s daughter.

I come back to east Kentucky quite often, both for work and for family visits and gatherings.

I like to start every trip with a drive around the region, which usually starts and ends in Harlan and includes stops in Hazard, Prestonsburg, Pikeville and Whitesburg. It’s a great way to meet up with friends old and new and see what’s new in the city centers and counties. I view the economic future of southeast Kentucky as something of a puzzle. And downtown revitalization is certainly a hopeful piece of that puzzle.

There are some outdoor spots that my family enjoys. Bad Branch Falls in Letcher County and Kingdom Come State Park in Harlan County are two of our favorites. The Kentucky Coal Museum in Benham is also a great place to spend a few hours.

Although I have a great affection for the area, I also get angry about some of the things I see there. You cannot fix problems without attacking their systemic and structural roots. And I believe there is still a lot to be done on these fronts. In a way, Twilight in Hazard is a call to action, not just for eastern Kentucky but for all Americans, because I believe we can better identify and solve our most pressing challenges.

Olivia Weeks writes for the Daily Yonder and did this interview for the Path Finder e-newsletter. Sign up for the Daily Yonder newsletter here.