New Geography

Tag: Appalachia

  • Appalatin: A Perfect Rhythm Falling Into Place

    Nesting in Louisville since 2006, slowly taking its time to form and blossom, Appalatin is six working professionals who haven’t quit their day jobs — two native Kentuckians and four immigrant Kentuckians from Latin America, who do lot of professional-quality music in their spare time.

    If one were to introduce Appalatin to the world in one longish sentence, it might be something like this: “Appalatin is sunny, high-spirited, fun music, technically a cross-pollination of Appalachian-Kentucky Hillbilly and various Latin American Sounds (primarily Andes & Coastal Central American) — specifically Rumba, Andean, Central American Folk, American Folk, Cuban, Cha Cha, trova movement from the Sixtes and Seventies, Cumbia, and Bluegrass — with some of their influences being Silvio Rodriquez of Cuba, Mercedes Sosa of Argentina, Victor Jara of Chile, Nineties Spanish pop band Jarabe de Palo and jam bands like the Allman Brothers.”

    Meet this time from foreign shores not Paul, John, George, and Ringo, but rather Obanodo “Marlon” Solano, Steve Sizemore, Yani Vozos, (who has emerged as the group’s unofficial/official spokesperson), Fernando Moya, Luis de Leon and the amicable Mario Cardenas, who speaks mostly in Spanish.

    The first time I see them was at the Americana Festival this past summer — and they caught my ear. Right away there was something extra-special and highly individual about Appalatin — not just the fact that the music they performed is unusual (i.e., “Shady Grove” with Andean Pan Pipes and Central American Spanish guitar rhythms) — but also the fact that they made it cohesive, natural and relaxed.

    As people, they are very, very much like the music they perform. They have a notably warm, genial, and relaxed air about them, similar to the Carolina Chocolate Drops, that gives them the potential to be a real crowd-pleaser and a favorite.

    Yani Vozos recaps their genesis this way: “In August 2006, Steve and Marlon jammed once, then I came in and we did a show at [the] Jazz Factory. A year later Fernando joined the band, a year later Mario started playing off and on, and a year after that Luis joined the band, and here we are.”

    Steve and Yani both hail from small towns in Kentucky — Hazard County, and Richmond plus Estill County, respectively. Marlon grew up on a farm in a tiny community, only in San Lorenzo, Nicaragua. Fernando, surprisingly the most urban of the bunch given his tribal heritage, hails from just outside of Quito. Mario hails from Loja — the “Nashville or New Orleans of Ecuador” (his words), and Luis is from the State of Chiapas and lived in Guatemala for twelve years before coming here.

    The music that emerges from this divergent mix is remarkable in the degree to which it both melds seamlessly together and preserves the essence of each of its ingredients.

    Appalatin began with a long-running set of gigs at various of the locations of Heine Brothers Coffee that lasted from 2006 until Spring/Summer of this year, an affiliation which gave them excellent exposure to some of the most literarily and artistically acute people in the city and one which they might therefore resume sometime in the near future. They have also appeared earlier this year at the Tequila Factory and have an annual gig at the Kentucky Museum of Art & Craft – appropriately enough for the Day of the Dead celebration – in addition to other sporadic gigs around town over the past four years. On the out-of-town front so far, they have put in appearances in Lexington, Frankfort, and London, Kentucky (an event that got rained out, but they played for the organizers, anyway) and Corydon, Indiana. Basically they have taken their time since 2006 in bringing the particular and challenging synthesis of their eclectic sound together, forming it based on the common-denominator influences shared by each of the members.

    Yani summarizes their seminal period, throughout which they were mentored by Louisville music-development legend John Gage, this way: “We started out playing cover tunes of mostly Latin folk music, and as musicians, we were comfortable playing together from the beginning. But Heine Bros. gave us the opportunity to develop the sound and get more comfortable playing with each other. For a long time, we rehearsed very little and only played together at Heine Bros., it was our rehearsal spot.. . . Everyone has unique but vaguely similar backgrounds, and the format that we use is very open, i.e., play a song and everyone adds their flavor and we see what happens. This was definitely cultivated at the Heine Bros., because we would just play and have fun and experiment with cover songs. So, when Marlon and myself began to introduce original songs it was easy to cultivate the original sound because of the open format and everyone being comfortable with each other.”

    Getting There

    This past summer, they felt they had enough original material together to record an album and put the finishing touches on it in the middle of December — it should be released just a few weeks after this article hits the stands. As a comparison, Justin Bieber had been discovered, released an album, and garnered world-wide recognition in half the time Appalatin has spent in R&D — but Beiber isn’t as original and wouldn’t appear to have that long shelf life that I project can be expected from Appalatin.

    The great thing about Appalatin is that their sound hits you like early blues or Sainkho Namtchylak’s surreal throat singing — when you first hear it, what you (or at least it was true for me) get is this irrational but exciting feeling of “This is such a great sound, but is so new to me — so clearly it is still so unknown — I must be the only person who’s heard it; otherwise everyone would be listening to it, and I would have heard it long ago.”

    This experience of feeling like you’re discovering something totally new to everyone is still possible for new listeners to Appalatin — but, if I am right about their trajectory in the future, that should change.

    Appalatin’s own feeling of recent discovery has to do with acquiring that necessity to create something permanent that all artists feel when they realize that at last they are “there”; as Steve puts it, “When we recorded the album this summer, that was the first time we felt like, OK, we have to do this. You know, the rest of the time we’re just like, all right, let’s play, let’s have fun.”

    The good-feeling, upbeat music that has emerged as their signature has been the result of a cross-cultural experience for all the members; they didn’t just play together, they visited each other’s areas as a precursor to composing together, and immersed themselves independently in each other’s folk music. Both Kentuckians, independently, spent time in Central and South America — Yani in Nueva Morolica, Honduras from mid-2000 to late 2002, during a stint in the Peace Corps. Steve lived in Santiago, Chile for a year and a half, and in Buenos Aries, Argentina for almost a year, where he taught English as a second language. This is where they both really got into their mutual love of Latin American and Spanish music.

    The situation was the reverse for the Hispanic members, who were immersed in their own local traditions as well as in Latin American commercial pop, and who got into Bluegrass and Appalachian Hillbilly music, again independently, upon coming into the U.S. The key difference is that the Latin Americans already had a little bit of a leg-up, since they didn’t have to leave their respective countries to discover the commercial American stuff.

    But here they are now, all together, with primarily much the same influences – Steve, a planner at U of L, who is drummer/percussionist-of-all-trades (congas, bongos, cajons, etc.); Marlon, who is self-employed with his homemade jewelry business Naturaleza al Descubierto (plus being an archaeologist), on guitar & vocals; Fernando, on Bamboo Flutes and Chagrango, makes Andean flutes and sells them along with native crafts at art fairs and festivals around the region; Luis, a journalist and photographer for Al Dia En America, the local Spanish-language paper, also submits to papers in Mexico and Guatemala, and is the one on harmonica and Maracas (who, according to Fernando, brings the “blues-y flavor”); Mario, a retired industrial engineer, dubbed by the other members ‘the Godfather,’ a.k.a. the group’s oldest member, providing bass and background vocals; and spokesperson Yani, a U of L Graduate Student Advisor, on vocal, guitar and mandolin, who, according to Fernando, accounts, with Steve, for the group’s “gringo flavor.’”

    Appalatin: The Music You Can’t Ignore

     

    There is an old cough medication somewhere out there with the slogan, “Tastes Awful But It Works.” On the surface, one might think that combining Applachian with a variety of Latin American styles might be more like a case of “sounds awful but it doesn’t work,” or even possibly ending up like a Hasil Adkins song – “sounds awful but it somehow manages to work.” But the ears don’t lie — and, if you think about it, of course, the folk traditions in both the Americas, rooted in European, African, and Native American customs and styles, would have to blend together smoothly and harmoniously — a perfect fit.

    There could be some influences from their past that have affected their music that the members themselves are unaware of – I asked them this and they responded with a joke at their own expense, that possibly music they didn’t necessarily like, but that happened to be in the background of their individual childhoods, would account for what I was hearing.

    However, that isn’t what I meant at all. Personally, the unreported influences I think I might be hearing are not unlikable in any way — some Caribbean rhythms, which might have sneaked in undetected via the Nicaraguan and Honduran streams. Possibly for Marlon, it might be Nicaraguan ranchera and Latin American music; for Steve it might be top 40; for Yani it could be the Greek roots music of his heritage; or for Fernando it might be the heavy metal to which he says he used to pick up girls as a teenager.

    Appalatin still has to make the mark they deserve in Louisville, let alone in the rest of the world, but from this point on they should “get known” very quickly, especially with their new CD coming out. They make music one really cannot ignore, and their own peculiarly inviting and stage-warming presence should clinch it, especially among those who tend toward the traditional in music. So, while they have enjoyed the success of having played for the U.S. Ambassador to Sweden, I would have to say I cannot imagine any panties ever being thrown onstage at an Appalatin concert. On the other hand, they do report having once played for dogs. Yes, dogs: “We played a dog party, yes its true, a party in a gymnasium where dogs were running around with their owners, they all seemed to enjoy it.” And as for panty paucity and party-pooper factor, I wouldn’t want to go so far as to give the wrong impression: “Last Cinco de Mayo at the Tequila Factory [we had] people dancing on table at the end of the night.” So, OK, not panties — but close enough.

    In what they refer to as “a narrow brush with fame,” Appalatin was invited to play (though in the end Yani was the only one who could attend) an EPA rally on the expansion of a coal- fired energy plant in Southwest Jefferson County, in company with Jim James and Daniel Martin Moore.

    Appalatin’s playlist so far consists of originals, traditional American Folk — both North and South American, that is — and covers of some Latin American commercial music. They’ve also done renditions of Andean music, such as covers (“Alturas” among them) of Inti-Illimani songs. Here’s their take on some of their own favorites so far: “I [Yani] think that all of the songs are special and have the power to speak to and move people both here and abroad. For me though, I am a fan of "Canta mi Gente," "Spread the Love Around," "Luna Llena," "Pine Mountain Top," and "Shady Grove.. . . Oh, and "Carro Loco," too, is a foot stompin’, knee slappin’ jam that will get even the most timid in the mood to move. Definitely has potential to catch on.”

    Regarding the future the group members envision for themselves, Yani has this to say: “I think that we will continue to grow as musicians and as a band, always paying tribute to past folk traditions from Latin America and here in Kentucky. I also see us experimenting with different styles and perhaps other instruments as well. Flamenco is something that we are all very fond of as well as Brazilian music as well as more rock and blues. We have talked about incorporating the violin/fiddle, saxophone (Luis plays this) and electric lead guitar (Yani plays this) and perhaps a drum kit.”

    For the future, a quote from Steve Sizemore on Appalatin’s Facebook page — “2011 should be a big year for Appalatin!”

    I think that is a safe prophecy to make.

    This piece originally appeared at Louisville Music News.

    Photo by Paul Moffett, Louisville Music News.

    Appalachia-based Alexander Clark Campbell has done critical pieces on film, C&W music, local and regional travel, and food. He currently covers the worldbeat music scene for Louisville Music News.

  • Chickens from Wal-Mart?

    As I arrived for a visit, my 90 year old father was perusing ads from his favorite big box store for chicken parts. Seizing the moment that all children savor, I sought to impress him with my declaration: “I buy my chicken parts – albeit at higher prices – at the natural foods store; you know daddy, where the chickens ate naturally off the barn yard floor like they did when you were a boy”? Not missing a beat and dashing my hope for an “at a boy,” he retorted: “I saw what those chickens ate off the barnyard floor and I’ll buy my chickens at Walmart(s)!”

    And so, in his own way, my father just about sums it up – and puts me in my place. For one, he certainly doesn’t long for the good old days that were anything but. He was raised poor in Appalachia Kentucky and likely had to work for his supper, wringing the neck of a chicken that ate whatever it could scrape from the dirt. He prefers the modern conveniences like the big box stores so hated by the urbane crowd. And, so we see the clash of the old versus the new; of culture that is good and culture that is changing to fit the times in which we live.

    How does that translate into the lives we lead and where we are going? Note that the “Walmart chicken man” is the same father who observed that computers were evil because they had put blue collar line workers like him on the street. So, in this the age of “technology as savior” and as the end all be all, we are alas seeing a revival of interest in local culture. We are seeing the dawn of small versions of big box stores and the “re-sizing” of American lifestyles. As The Economist (May 15, 2010) has noted, some really smart people may simply wish to live next door to cows and chickens even if my father does not. There’s a notion that small may appeal to people living in an outrageously outsized world. This can be seen in a renewed interest in coming home or staying home in the smaller towns of America.

    But, that return toward local culture goes only so far. The palpable interest in lifestyles that eschew the “cold flickering computer screen in the middle of the night” in favor of warmer and more nurturing places does not mean we can return to the past. Frankly, as my father reminds me, we might not want to. The new small town lifestyle is anything but complacent and “old fashioned.”

    There are stories abounding of telecommuters working for big east/west coast companies inventing software programs – inspired by the springtime hills alive with rosebud trees. There is even the former advertising executive, who commented upon hearing of friend’s involvement in a controversy: “There is always extraordinary life (in the countryside) beyond controversy … I am farming these days and stifling my leadership urges except for cows, goats and Border Collies.”

    As much as we might like to think that youthful retirees and young millennials will relocate to the mythic “Mayberry,” with its homespun values and slow deliberate quality of life, the successful Mayberry has to offer more than nostalgia. The pleasing camaraderie of neighbors is not enough. You also need educational opportunities, good health care and transportation. People may be seeking warmth and nurturance and bucolic scenes but we are demanding lot, fed by the 21st century to hold such contradictory views as shopping at Starbucks or Wal-mart while marching in the street for more locally-owned shops.

    So in the face of all this, how do we build a rural America that can sustain our small towns and offer an alternative lifestyle of Americans who yearn for one? We are accustomed to turning our “lonely eyes” to technology for all the answers and indeed it is critically important. But, the answer for small town rural America lies in merging the blessings of technology with the culture that makes the small town lifestyle so special.

    To put it bluntly: culture eats technology on any day of the week. Examples range from Afghanistan’s impenetrable and powerful ground level tribal network that thwarts the strongest armies – from the British to the Soviets to the US – to the puzzling rejection of educational attainment in Appalachia due to the reality of fear that “getting smart” will only encourage children to leave home. In the rougher part of the world, “staying close to home” is deeply rooted in ancient cultural ties to land and place.

    So, how do we combine the technology that will lift up economic prosperity and build wealth and while understanding better the role of local culture in creating the resilient rural communities of the future? I call it the ultimate “mash-up”. It will require the combination of the five Ps: PERSPECTIVE and hard-nosed research to know where you stand: who is coming to or staying in your community or region; investment in PEOPLE and their education and health and other documented needs; recognition and promotion of PLACE, PRESERVATION of what is dear in our culture; and finally putting all that together with technology that can bring economic PROSPERITY not only in dollars but in quality of life.

    We certainly need to take what technology offers, with its gift of allowing us to live and work anywhere. But this is a hollow benefit unless we imbue it with the culture that makes our lives special. It won’t be computers that will make our rural places unique. It will be the native music, crafts and stories and how we preserve and adapt them to modern times.

    Sylvia Lovely is an author, commentator and speaker on issues relating to communities and how we must adapt to the new landscape that is the 21st century.

    Photo by pfly.

  • It is Time to Plant

    It is springtime in Kentucky – think foals and mares in the pristine meticulously fenced pastures. But, in another part of the state – the Appalachia region of eastern Kentucky – it is time to plant on those rocky hillsides. As my 90 year old father puts it, you plant your corn when tree buds are the size of squirrel ears. I confess to not having given a thought to whether squirrels even have ears or not … but my father knows. He was born and raised in a part of the world where they know things like that, typical of the mostly Scots-Irish who settled there. He knows the land like the back of his hand, he is self-reliant and stubborn to a fault and he knows what it is like to be poor and bereft of opportunity.

    Appalachia Eastern Kentucky – take just one geographic area out of a huge region spread over several states – is negatively depicted in popular imagery and academic literature as a drag on the Kentucky economy. The whole region is enigmatic like the underachieving child in a family of superstars. Until now, that is. With the financial collapse having brought America to her knees, it is a bit like the screaming headline about Toyota’s debacle: “the A student flunked the class.” Perhaps that underachieving C student finally has her chance to shine. After all, who would have given Ford a chance a few years ago?

    But Appalachian eastern Kentucky is after all a land where every manner of program has been tried, books written, studies undertaken, and mournful music sung. It is where the failed War on Poverty was launched in the 1960s. The reason for a “new day dawning” is that there is a stir across the land that signaling an epochol shift in the evolution of the American Dream. Call it by wonky titles like “new localism” or call it “choosing who I want to be and where I want to do it.” But whatever it is, it is impacting on our lives dramatically and will do more so in the future.

    The prestigious Economist Magazine (May 15, 2010) recently reflected that in the future people will have unprecedented choices of living in big vibrant cities or in smaller more nurturing rural settings. And, the stories abound. Take Patty who left the factories of the north to return to her native land. Always known for her shrewd business acumen, she took over and renovated “The Old Schoolhouse” antique gallery located near Cave Run Lake. She scours the region for her “goods” and is visited daily by weary travelers seeking the authenticity of a culture too long locked in the shadow of conventional definitions of success. Likewise, despite the long held belief that they are leaving, young people are finding ways to stay in the region, such as the young man in a recent audience who has taken advantage of “tele-learning” and plying his trade as a graphic artist for a west coast software company.

    There appears to be a convergence of forces at work that could prove transformational for regions like Appalachia. Brought on by the Great Recession, people have to make choices about their priorities and perhaps even to downsize lifestyle appetites. But that’s not all. These forces will impact all places but particularly rural places like Kentucky, places of great beauty and tranquility and appeal waiting for the right moment that may finally be here.

    These converging forces are driven in large part by technology and the realization of its earlier promise that we truly can live and work anywhere. It is about participating in the preservation of a precious culture locked for too long in the closet of neglect and stigmatized with the label of backwardness. It is about an ability to do more than scrape out a meager living in the rocky hillsides. Evidence can be seen in a migration pattern that is, for the first time in decades, giving Kentucky and surrounding states a positive net migration from the rest of the country. We are seeing youthful retirees coming home in some instances and young families putting down roots in places that feel right for their chosen way of life. And there is a growing business culture that knows about the world but sees no paradox in growing itself in Appalachian soil – and using the culture to its advantage.

    Just take note of Kentucky “ham” country if you want to partake of successful business stories. Recently profiled in the New York Times Magazine (May 23, 2010), Kentucky’s home grown hams are making their way onto the world stage. The author marveled at the ham store owner’s chatter about attending a ham conference in Spain and the desire of buyers to travel to a small town to buy nitrate free bacon. Imagining Kentucky hams being worth a wait in noisy New York City restaurants defies explanation except to acknowledge that the song is right that “somethin’s happenin’ here.”

    What must the Appalachian region of eastern Kentucky and the rest of Appalachia do to take advantage of this new opportunity? It must reinvent itself as with many other aspects of the American Dream under the new rules of the 21st century. Reinvention will require answering the question “what is success”? With extreme partisanship and 30,000 foot politics at other levels of government, it is no longer viable to look in the direction of the “higher ups.” We must look to ourselves. Only we can provide the basis for community building and ensure the investments we need to make in health and education.

    Ah, springtime. Nature has taught us well; re-invention is to see the possible and to seize the moment. The moment is now.

    Sylvia Lovely is an author, commentator and speaker on issues relating to communities and how we must adapt to the new landscape that is the 21st century.

    Photo by J. Stephen Conn.

  • Stimulate Yourself!

    Beltway politicians and economists can argue themselves silly about the impact of the Obama administration’s stimulus program, but outside the beltway the discussion is largely over. On the local level–particularly outside the heavily politicized big cities–the consensus seems to be that the stimulus has changed little–if anything.

    Recently, I met with a couple of dozen mayors and city officials in Kentucky to discuss economic growth. The mayors spoke of their initiatives and ideas, yet hardly anyone mentioned the stimulus.

    “We didn’t see much of anything,” noted Elaine Walker, mayor of Bowling Green, a relatively prosperous town of 55,000 in the western part of the state. “The money went to the state and was siphoned off by them. We got about zero from it.”

    Ironically, Walker does not seem overly upset about the lack of federal assistance for Bowling Green. Instead, Walker–a self-described supporter of the president in a part of the country largely resistant to Obamamania–seems more disposed to taking matters into her own hands. Rather than waiting for Obama, Bowling Green is looking to stimulate itself–and other communities would do well to emulate this grassroots approach

    Bowling Green’s “self-stimulation” is part of a concentrated effort at diversification for the city, which has long depended on its General Motors plant, which produces the Corvette. Other single-industry-dominated regions, notably Detroit, have made much noise about moving into other fields, but their emphasis has frequently revolved around high-profile, highly subsidized projects such as “green” industries, entertainment or tourism.

    Instead, says Walker, the first step in diversification lies with boosting small local businesses.

    A primary vehicle for this has been the successful Small Business Accelerator located at an abandoned mall. Buddy Steen, who runs the program in conjunction with Western Kentucky University, claims it has fostered some 38 companies and created over 700 jobs. Blu Pharmaceuticals, developed by Small Business Accelerator, for example, currently employs five but expects to add another 40 workers at its new plant in nearby Franklin. The program’s other firms specialize in everything from electronic warfare to robotics.

    Kentucky may seem an unlikely spot for such ventures, admits local entrepreneur Ed Mills, but things are changing in the Bluegrass State. Mills, a former General Motors executive, and his twin sons, Clint and Chris, founded a Web-based software firm, HitCents, in 1995 when the boys were still in high school.

    Today the company, which develops software for retail and other applications, has over 50 employees and customers from across the country, including GM, as well as a host of local companies, unions and public agencies. “We hope to build a $100 million company, and we think we can do it.” Mills says. “You don’t have to be in California. People think you can’t do this in Kentucky but plainly you can.”

    With its strategic location on Interstate 65 connecting the old industrial heartland to the emerging one along the Gulf, Bowling Green enjoys many advantages. It’s slightly over an hour to Nashville and two hours to Louisville, the area’s two major consumer and cultural marketplaces.

    Other small communities in the state have also realized that any green shoots would have to come from local grassroots. Russellville, a rural community of some 7,200 in the southwest part of the state, is looking at a “back to basics” economic development plan that stresses the export of local food products and crafts.

    “You can ride down the highways and smell the hams smoking,” notes one local economic developer. “We are looking on how to export those hams to the rest of country.”

    Mayor Gary Williamson of Mt. Sterling, a town of 6,000 located in Montgomery County, in the generally more impoverished east, has been pushing a different strategy. His region is dotted with industrial plants of varying sizes. The city is also 45 minutes from Georgetown, site of a large Toyota factory.

    These employers require a steady stream of skilled industrial workers, particularly in such fields as machine maintenance. Williamson and other officials in the area see training such workers–starting at the high school level–as a way to not only keep people employed but to attract other firms to the area. “We want to keep people here, and they will do so if they have jobs after school,” he explains.

    It’s significant that such grassroots-based development–geared to unique local conditions–is taking place in Kentucky. For generations, the state and the rest of the surrounding Appalachian region has been the brunt of both jokes and patronizing attention from the nation’s academes, policy circles and media.

    Most Americans, observed Newsweek in 2008, “see Appalachia through the twin stereotypes of tragedy (miners buried alive) and farce (Jed Clampett).” One prime reflection of that approach can be seen in a CNN report last year that painted a decidedly dismal portrait of the region.

    For generations, Appalachia’s seeming backwardness has led to the creation of numerous federal programs aimed at lifting it into the national economic and cultural mainstream, notes University of Kentucky historian Ronald Eller. In his excellent Uneven Ground: Appalachia Since 1945, Eller describes how these efforts reflected the region’s “struggle with modernity.” Progress has been often associated with efforts to undermine what the late Michael Harrington described as a “separate culture, another nation with its own way of life.”

    Yet, this unique culture also could provide some of the basis for a regional recovery. There’s a growing sense, notes longtime Kentucky League of Cities President Sylvia Lovely, that the region’s fundamental assets–its natural beauty, resources and traditions of craftsmanship–could constitute a distinct advantage in the coming decades.

    More important still could be less tangible values, Lovely notes. “Modernity” in its current unadulterated form–with a lack of community, homogeneity and disconnect from the natural world–could be losing its allure for millions of Americans. In terms of what matters, she suggests, Appalachian towns may possess “if not more information, perhaps more wisdom than those who hold themselves out as experts. “

    Looking at the statistics, the news is not all grim. Despite its still glaring problems, particularly in its rural hinterland, Appalachia has been gaining steadily compared to the rest of the country. In 1960 one-third of Appalachia residents lived in poverty, compared with 1 in 5 nationally; by 2000 the poverty rates had fallen to 13.6%, just a tick higher than the national 12.3%. The region’s continued struggle with the gap between rich and poor, Eller notes, now more reflects broader national trends as opposed to something unique to the region.

    Perhaps the most dramatic changes are illustrated by migration patterns. By the end of the 1960s one out of every three industrial workers in Ohio came from Appalachia. Young people studied, notes Eller, “reading, writing and Route 23,” referring to the main highway to the industrial north.

    Since 2000 Kentucky, as well as Tennessee and West Virginia, have enjoyed positive rates of net migration. Although some parts of the region continue to suffer horrendous poverty and continued out-migration, many other communities–such as Bowling Green, Lexington and Louisville, as well some more rural areas–have attracted more newcomers than they have lost. Overall Appalachian states’ migration statistics look a lot healthier than Ohio and Illinois, not to mention New York or California.

    Walker–who moved to Kentucky from Los Angeles shortly after the 1992 race riots–sees this new migration as part of what will sustain a recovery in the region. Like many newcomers, Walker came to Kentucky not for bright lights but for a good place to raise her children. “Everyone still waves and says hi,” she observes. “That makes a lot more difference to people than many think. In the end, people come here because it’s a better place to live and also to raise your kids. It’s all about families.”

    Ultimately, a combination of folksiness and access to the world brought by technology could spark a continued renaissance not only in Bowling Green but across the region. The fact that the resurgence seems to be the product of largely local efforts not only makes it all the sweeter, but could inspire similar approaches among those communities still waiting for Washington to rescue them.

    This article originally appeared at Forbes.com.

    Joel Kotkin is executive editor of NewGeography.com and is a distinguished presidential fellow in urban futures at Chapman University. He is author of The City: A Global History. His next book, The Next Hundred Million: America in 2050, will be published by Penguin Press early next year.

    Downtown Bowling Green photo courtesy of OPMaster

  • Who will win the Car-wars?

    General Motors, the venerable American auto manufacturer is sitting on the cliff’s edge in North America with a recent 3-month loss of $6 billion. However, GM watched its sales in China skyrocket 50% for the month of April, 2009. Ironically, Toyota, the company many Americans now cheer for, has posted a $7.7 billion loss for the first quarter.

    This now proves, without a doubt, that the auto industry – not just in the US – is going through a massive crisis. But it’s clear that American manufacturing has reached a critical, historical turning point. What was once good for General Motors is no longer good for the rest of the nation. The days are gone where an automobile must be designed in the Detroit region and manufactured in the Great Lakes. We have seen a shift in trade and production location from the north to the south. However, geographic arguments are only a small part of the overall challenge to the industry, especially in North America.

    When the dust settles, what will the American auto industry look like?
    Regardless of what some may say, there is no such thing as an “American” vehicle anymore. We are fast shifting into a global economy that requires the sharing and collaboration of multinational resources from across the globe. Consumers demand quality products at very affordable costs. Corporations have no choice but to comply with consumer demand even if it means off-shoring production and even trimming quality in order to save money. In many ways, this is the Wal-Martization of consumer goods.

    The 21st-century automotive industry will be geographically spread throughout North America. Modern technology allows engineers to work from just about any location regardless of population, climate or infrastructure. However, many engineering outfits have found that locating brainpower in dynamic places improves quality and innovation. A dynamic place is a place where the educated and skilled want to work. These includes places like southern California (where most of the design studios are located), Ann Arbor, Austin, and others.

    In the 1980s the Midwest watched the southern states gear up and recruit non-Detroit manufacturers, in large part due to the lack of unions in the land of Dixie. We have seen the southern United States explode in production and manufacturing capability. The two main reasons for this were lack of unions in the South as well as tax-payer funded incentives. However, the idea of receiving incentives from the public coffer can backfire.

    Just about every state offers some form of tax breaks or incentives to corporations looking to construct new facilities. Every large corporation now looks to the state where they can get the most incentives. Everything else, such as skilled workforce, distribution, infrastructure – that all comes secondary. In many ways, this is just an example of robbing Peter to pay Paul. And it doesn’t work. You cannot simply take tax dollars from one area of the state and pour them into another region with the long-shot hope that an industry will grow in that certain region. This is exactly what Tennessee is doing.

    However, the southern states have struggled and will continue to struggle to attract brainpower and engineering talent. What the American public doesn’t realize is that there is a lot more to the creation of a vehicle unit than mere assembly. Besides production, there is fabrication, engineering, design, testing, marketing, legal, and distribution. Even today, much of the world’s automotive intelligence and engineering is located in Southeast Michigan. This fact irks southern powerbrokers who have been so successful at bringing grunt work to their states.

    We will continue to see massive amounts of automotive-related manufacturing relocate to Mexico due to the extremely low cost of production. Many of the Japanese and German manufacturers are already starting to notice the negative consequences of setting up production facilities in the United States. Nissan, Toyota and Honda have all initiated cuts and hiring freezes in their American manufacturing facilities. These companies have also initiated major contact employee programs rather than hire full-time fully-hired help.

    So what happens now in the old auto belt? Certainly, Ohio as well as Michigan must figure out how they can re-deploy their engineering talent. Each seems to graduate a huge number of students year after year but this tends to benefit other places. States such as Wyoming, Arizona, Washington, and others have held job fairs in Michigan in order to gain talent. If there are no jobs in Michigan, why do they keep graduating so many students?

    Even without George Bush and the GOP in power, Texas seems also to be a big beneficiary of this brain drain. But for how much longer can this continue? Remember Texas went bust in the early 1980s with low energy prices. It could happen again.

    Another natural winner in the car-wars could be the southern states, but only once they consolidate their efforts to bring knowledge and engineering to the South. It is much easier to offer incentives for a production facility than to woo an engineering lab.

    Critically, there still seems to be a lack of emphasis on higher education in the south. Even the best universities in the South cannot fully compete with the universities in the Midwest from a technical standpoint. Institutions such as Michigan, Wisconsin, University of Chicago, Michigan State and Indiana are still levels above the universities found in Kentucky, Tennessee and Georgia. The Midwestern schools built their solid knowledge and research background over a period of decades. This cannot easily be duplicated.

    To be sure, the auto-dominated economies of Michigan and Ohio will be shrinking in the future. These states are shedding their manufacturing sectors while reinforcing their knowledge-based sectors. Over time they may find it much easier to morph into a knowledge-based economy by using previous know-how than to build a knowledge economy from scratch. Michigan, for example, may have been hit hard by this global schism in manufacturing, yet it has been left with the know-how and knowledge left over from industry in the form of a strong university system. In contrast, nowhere in the south can we find that.

    In conclusion, some individual Midwestern cities may come out of this crisis better than many expect. Younger workers in the future will look at specific towns such as Madison and Ann Arbor, which offer an excellent quality of life, rather than head off to the sunbelt. This may be particularly true as they enter their 30s and look for a good place to raise their children, hopefully close to grandparents. The Midwest may be down, but not all of it is out – far from it.

    Amy Fritz was born in Cambridge, England during World War II. Her mother was a seamstress and her father a pilot with the RAF. Her uncles worked in various capacities within the British automobile industry and her father became an engineer and professor.

    After studying engineering at Cambridge, Fritz developed an interest in automobiles and went to work for a now defunct automotive supplier. Her occupation took her to Europe, Asia and North America, where she eventually settled as a technical engineering contractor for various auto-related companies. She is now semi-retired and living in the Denver area.

  • Main Street Middle America: Don’t Get Mad, Get Ahead

    Like many on Main Street Paul Goodpaster is angry. Paul is my banker friend in Morehead, a retail, medical and education hub on the edge of eastern Kentucky. He observed that his bank was doing quite well – albeit hurt now by rising unemployment and an economy starting to have an impact even on those unglamorous places that had minded their business well.

    “If only some of those ’experts‘ would get out of their inside-the-beltway heads and visit with me here in Morehead, I’d give them ideas on how this October disaster could have been averted. “Too big to fail,” he scoffed. “It should be about too big to have been allowed to do business and thus too big not to fail!”

    So, what can forgotten middle America do about all this mess? Anger won’t get it; and self pity is a waste of time. Only by developing the “swagger” of elbowing our way through the noise can we hope to be heard. We still hear the cacophony of all the blither and blather coming out of the well-connected east coast crowd. Cutting through means learning how we in the “flyover“ zone can position ourselves in the national and global economy.

    The world most assuredly did change – likely in perceptible ways prior to but with an exclamation point in October. In November “we” – with more than a few exceptions in the south and middle country – elected a president that exemplified our hopes and dreams. He was touted as a guy who understands cities and community life better than any in modern history.

    But, all that being said, middle and certainly southern and Appalachian America did not vote for the president. We are a long way – in our economy, our habits and our viewpoints – from Chicago. We are the home of coal and factories and small places far out of the way.

    Our outlook, on the surface, could not be worse. As a community we are out of power and also perhaps out of favor. Yet the world changed for us as well and opportunity abounds for those who are willing and able to fight back. We discovered that (1) we are interdependent with the global community no matter where we are; (2) that the experts don’t all graduate from Harvard and Yale – note the Greenspan bewilderment in October, 2008 and (3) that a new kind of sensibility is emerging.

    As the world grows bewilderingly out of control, people will be seeking places that are affordable and welcome growth. That is where middle America comes in.

    We will have something close to another 100 to 120 million more people in this country by the year 2050. Conventional wisdom would have it that they will all move to glamorous, hip and fast places. But not so fast on that theory. A visit to Owensboro, Kentucky yields a different answer. Set on the Ohio River across from Evansville, Indiana, Owensboro is a town with a unique DNA that has been preserved over the years. With high performing schools and a rich tradition of civic activism, they are planning a major “quality of life” initiative that the Mayor Ron Payne describes as something aimed squarely at children and grandchildren – a statement that bucks the “all about me era.” Owensboro, with a diverse economy that never rode the wave of the “bubble” always minded its Ps and Qs. He is building walking and bike trails and bolstering a downtown that he describes as the living room to the community.

    Owensboro is also home to a world class performing arts center headed up by Zev Buffman, a master producer of over 40 Broadway plays, who made Owensboro his home after visiting the arts center and appreciating its high quality. Zev has convinced Broadway of the wisdom of “staging” plays in Owensboro at a fraction of New York City prices. What is the advantage to Owensboro? Young people can see first hand that life in middle America is not the same as being banished to the boonies. It can also be enriching and connected. As one young man put it: “I can get started earlier in owning a business in a place like Owensboro that would take years or never happen in one of the mega cities where I would just be a cog in the machinery.”

    In middle America, we need to learn that nothing is predictable. But we should have more confidence that we can build expertise at home. People like Mayor Ron Payne and Zev Buffman have taken their entrepreneurial spirit and applied it to an emerging new frontier of America’s battered small- to mid-sized cities in the middle of the country. It’s time for this portion of America to stop getting mad, and start getting ahead.

    Sylvia L. Lovely is the Executive Director/CEO of the Kentucky League of Cities and the founder and president of the NewCities Institute. She currently serves as chair of the Morehead State University Board of Regents. Please send your comments to slovely@klc.org and visit her blog at sylvia.newcities.org.

  • What Does “Age of Hope” Mean in the Mississippi Delta?

    It was during the inaugural days that an article appeared in The Washington Post about the predominantly black Mississippi Delta going for Obama – no surprise! But juxtaposed in the same time period there appeared in a Kentucky newspaper the story of predominantly white Menifee County, my birthplace – deep in the heart of Appalachia – defying the red sea of Kentucky all around it and also going for Obama.

    Quite a pairing of places. It caused the logical mind to go quickly to work. What did they have in common? The likely answer was a common thread of hope – in two places very different yet alike. Two places long left behind as programs have come and gone. Did this present them with their chance?

    It is easy to say – as I said to a group of automotive middle managers hit hard both emotionally and in the pocketbook by the feared demise of the U.S. auto industry – buck up and get over it. The world has changed. It is time to read What Would Google Do? and reinvent yourselves and your industry. So, too, the business of moving people from point A to point B will always be with us – just how to do that will be left to inventive minds which should include all of us.

    But the auto industry is not alone. Neither are Menifee County and the Mississippi Delta. We do not yet know how to grow legs under this thing called “Obama hope” for communities like those of the Delta or Menifee County. Maybe it’s easier if you’re a college student in California, Manhattan or Chicago to take pride in the greater articulateness and ‘vision’ of our new President.

    Beyond “hope”, an intrinsically ephemeral thing, what are we doing for places like the Delta and Menifee County? It is clear the world has changed. October taught us that, yes indeed, we are globally interdependent. Expertise doesn’t lie in the likes of Greenspan and CEOs and senators and representatives. Finally, government has a role to play – we humbly acknowledge after years of bashing it.

    So, what makes Obama so different and what can he do to live up to his reputation? He gave hope perhaps because he is so different, with an exotic name and so deliciously diverse ethnically that he appears to be out of central casting. Like Superman or Spiderman, he has an edge because he is not exactly like the rest of us.

    We wait and see. There is a major debate over whether places like the Delta or Menifee County can be saved…or should be saved. President Obama can be counted on to focus on other places – like San Francisco, Manhattan and, of course, Chicago – where his most intense supporters live and where the media clusters.

    The Delta and Menifee may have voted for him, but are they on the Presidential view screen? These places are not on the beaten path of interstate highways. They are not part of so-called “metro” or “hot” spots. They are small places with small towns. They are places of strong religious values. They won’t attract the creative class seeking nightclubs and outdoor cafes.

    Yet these places do have their positive attributes – Menifee lies near a lake and people looking for affordable second homes. The land is of great beauty and there are people there who know – as Wendell Berry speaks in reverence – every nook and cranny of every precious inch. So too it is with the Delta, a place full of history, folklore and the richest American musical traditions.

    There is some palpable evidence that these kinds of places may be more attractive than we may have thought prior to the October financial collapse. If you can’t live well in New York for under $500,000 a year, perhaps smaller, more nurturing places can provide a higher quality of life for far less money.

    Perhaps it will take more than government “programs” and outsiders coming in as saviors. Perhaps it will take the people of those regions coming together in some way to tout their regional rural attributes – perhaps their local culture and microentrepreneurship – with some obviously needed but as yet undefined help from “higher-ups.”

    Will local folks be willing to step up to that challenge? Let’s listen to Mayor Will Cox of Madisonville, Ky. and his “on-the-street reassurance” of his constituents through Facebook and his iPhone during the catastrophic Kentucky ice storm of ‘09. He didn’t fan flames of anger but rather was honest and straightforward and ultimately soothing. At the end of the day he got the power back on. “Obama hope” will not stoke the fire or feed the kids, but perhaps it can inspire us to do more for ourselves.

    I await spring with a little more enthusiasm this year. My father hails from Menifee County. He says to plant your corn when the tree buds are the size of squirrel ears. He is a plain old man and loves that place. We are a patchwork country with many differences, but we’re more alike than we think. Just ask the folks in the Delta and Menifee County, poor whites and blacks who opted for the same President. It’s time to grow legs under hope and act with some new thinking.

    Sylvia L. Lovely is the Executive Director/CEO of the Kentucky League of Cities and the founder and president of the NewCities Institute. She currently serves as chair of the Morehead State University Board of Regents. Please send your comments to slovely@klc.org and visit her blog at sylvia.newcities.org.

    Photo courtesy of Russell and Sydney Poore

  • What is the answer to the state of Kentucky?

    That was the question posed to character actor and West Irvine, Kentucky native, Harry Dean Stanton, in a recent Esquire interview. “There is no answer to the state of Kentucky,” he said.

    And so after the battering Kentucky took during the primary elections we continue to get The Beverly Hillbillies treatment by the media. Particularly memorable was CNN’s “interview” with down and out squatters in Clay County lamenting their hard-knock lot in life. Even some of our own natives, like Stanton I presume, see a lost cause.

    The history goes back to the coal mining wars with Lyndon Baines Johnson’s 1964 announcement of the War on Poverty. He was photographed on the front porch of a run-down house in Inez, Ky. For decades, that famous photo has demonstrated the failures of the family on the front porch – and how far we have not come in conquering that scourge.

    As Inez banker (and former RNC Chairman) Mike Duncan recently put it, “The War on Poverty did not succeed.”

    And, then comes Diane Sawyer, this past Friday on 20/20. Ms. Sawyer, a native of Kentucky has always shown a great interest in “us.” She has come to the mountains and coal fields on several occasions – most recently to develop this story. We trust that her intentions are good – we are certainly proud of her and the achievements of the many famed Kentuckians who have gone on to do great work in Kentucky and elsewhere.

    Back home, the reviews of her 20/20 segment are mixed. Facebook postings point out that, while sad and heart wrenching, the truth is what it is. Statistics can lie but they must be heeded. And they are heartbreaking – drugs, obesity and dead ends that lead to a general malaise about how any government or private efforts can ever make a difference.

    But there are bigger stories to tell. For one thing, we are not alone. What isn’t covered in all the “Richard Florida creative class” media hype is that lots of communities face the same situation as those in Appalachia. Florida contends that our big cities won’t be successful in the future without an infusion of educated, innovative and creative people. I think the examples of decay are far worse in the gleaming cities of New York City, Boston and others. There are Americans left behind in the urban lands of plenty as well.

    The other story is that people in Appalachia are working on it.

    I prefer to tell this story – from the bottom of a barrel if necessary until someone pays attention. I hope Ms. Sawyer (or someone) will tell the stories of school test scores that are off the charts in rural Kentucky counties like Clay and Johnson or of what is really happening in Inez, Ky., where a group of natives have moved back to their home in order to make a generational impact.

    These well-educated, successful people recently gathered and vowed to rewrite the story of the failed War on Poverty. They’re not asking for a handout or even a hand-up. They’ve already recognized that the problems are theirs and have taken ownership for finding the solutions.

    There is an emergent sense that it takes more than a “hollow” to raise a child. It takes a lot of people to bring a future to the mountains.

    Unlike Mr. Stanton, I believe we can find the answers to change from within ourselves – in Kentucky or anywhere. We have a responsibility to each other, to our children, to the land and to our past.

    I hope our media will tell more stories of people that are taking responsibility for their communities. Nothing is more Appalachian, or American, than a colorful tale of toughness and the spirit to try.

  • The Dawn of a New Age in the War on Poverty

    An article published in the Chicago Tribune on June 29, 1992 is entitled “The Great Society’s Great Failure.” It profiles the Inez, Kentucky family that appeared in the famous front porch photo that launched LBJ’s War on Poverty in 1964. Suffice it to say without revealing the particular gory details of their thwarted lives, the family’s fate was as dismal as the outcome of the War on Poverty. Mike Duncan, an Inez banker and now chairman of the Republican National Committee – battling to retain his position – put it mildly: “The War on Poverty did not succeed.”

    In 2009 where do we stand with America’s War on Poverty? Inez and the rest of Martin County were described in the article as “one of the poorest counties in a poor state. Of its 12,526 people, all but 27 are white.” The image stuck and Inez has been digging out ever since.

    The community’s lack of progress over the past several decades has been particularly ironic: until recently, the rest of America has been experiencing one of the greatest economic expansions in history.

    Now we have elected our first African American to the office of the presidency, a man who cut his political teeth working among the black poor of Chicago’s Southside. Barack Obama’s election has no doubt raised hopes around the Southside and other predominately African American distressed communities. But can the same be said for the more numerous, equally intractable neglected communities – labeled poor, white, aging, and rural (PWAR) – like Inez?

    This line of thinking has become even more popular as evidenced by the racial overtones, masquerading as satire, included on a CD released by a challenger of Mike Duncan for the RNC chair position. Politicos say there is a divide within both of the major political parties – appeal to the PWAR and die or reach out to gather more under the tent. PWARs are rarely spoken of in the media except in pejorative terms

    So far, there is little evidence that poor rural whites – epitomized by Appalachia – have any strong advocates in the new administration. There is not a single cabinet officer from anywhere in the deep or mid-south nor any important figure in the majority party from the region.

    So, what happens to the fortunes of the regions – the South in particular – in the new order? Will the battle of red versus blue gain new ground or will other rivalries and labels rise up? Will a region whose economy revolves around coal have a chance in a “new green world?”

    Right now places like Kentucky – decidedly red – could well be marginalized. The media enjoys painting our citizens as ignorant rubes (how else could they have voted against Obama?) This was implied in the mainstream news. (CNN had particular fun with it while profiling Clay County, Kentucky before the election and conducting a trailer escapade in Carlisle, Kentucky after the election).

    Seventeen years after the Tribune’s article, Inez and the rest of Martin County have chosen to declare their own war to overcome the endemic national stereotype that the War on Poverty placed upon them. This new spirit of localism was born first among the community’s young professionals who left Inez as high school graduates and have now returned as educated professionals seeking to earn their own piece of the American Dream. Their hope has been burnished in the fire of experiences gained as they saw and experienced the rewards of hard work and determination in other places. They concluded that Inez and Martin County could be something different, and they have returned to make it so.

    It is clear that President-elect Obama has a choice: be a great president and a uniter, or not. They say FDR was great because he reached out to those who were not for him. The times now are eerily similar. One hopes that a man who grew up as an outsider might realize that the “hill” people of Appalachia or the deep South aren’t all pathetic as portrayed in the news media; perhaps they don’t understand the message of hope because they have been betrayed before by “outsiders” attempting to convert them to the “mainstream.” The failures of the ‘war on poverty’ are still well remembered here.

    Not all 100 or more million new Americans who will be here by 2050 will head for the eight supercities. The vast majority won’t find work that will allow them to settle in the so-called “creative” hotbeds. Many will head for small to mid-sized towns with more affordable lifestyles, and perhaps more durable values. Perhaps others will begin to believe in the old adage that we can live and work anywhere and will do so, taking the opportunity to bring change to our communities.

    For its part, Inez, Kentucky has decided to rewrite its story and believes it can do so. As an Appalachian native, I believe it too. Their story is one of grit, determination, and sheer willpower to change the course of the future in a positive way. At a recent public meeting, an African American woman who had moved to Inez from D.C. stood up and provided a testimonial of faith and belief in her newfound home. She hoped others would come and begin to appreciate the lifestyle of a small town in hill and coal country. I had to ask afterward – is she for real? “Yes” came the reply, “she is very real.”

    A recent Esquire magazine feature called on “natives” to describe each of the 50 states. Actor Harry Dean Stanton, in the midst of philosophical ramblings, said: “There’s no answer to the state of Kentucky.” I don’t believe that’s entirely true.

    Sylvia L. Lovely is the Executive Director/CEO of the Kentucky League of Cities and the founder and president of the NewCities Institute. She currently serves as chair of the Morehead State University Board of Regents. Please send your comments to slovely@klc.org and visit her blog at sylvia.newcities.org.

  • Yes, Sylvia, there is a Santa Claus

    My mother died seven years ago on December 19, 2001. Simon Walter (named for my father Walter) Lovely, my grandson, was born to my son Ross and his wife Emma on December 19, 2008. A strange coincidence you might say, but there is more.

    My mother was diagnosed in July 2001 with advanced cervical cancer, a particularly cruel form of a cruel disease – robbing its host of all dignity along its monstrous path of destruction. It doesn’t help if its victim is bewildered by the world in general and given to bouts of depression. And, so it was with my mother.

    She was born poor in Appalachian Kentucky. Like many girls in Appalachian families, she left school early to go to work to support and educate the others. It seemed better that way – perhaps one or two could “make it out” of poverty. She was the one who always seemed to be left out. Christmas didn’t come often to the hills. One year when gifts were sent home from the cousins who had gone on to work in the factories up north – she was the only one not to get one. No one could explain the mix up – an incident she never forgot.

    She and my father left Kentucky in the early ’50s like thousands of others for what must surely have been the “Promised Land.” They gave up dirt farming, packed up the beat up old pickup with all their possessions – my brother and I – and headed to Dayton, Ohio. My father tells of “running, not walking” to a foreman he knew to beg for a job after being turned down by “personnel.”

    However, at age 55 he was laid off. There was time when a man could get a good job in the early ’50s with an 8th grade education. However, those times had run out. My mother and father applied for and got the only job they could get – being nanny to our boys, Ross and David.

    Her sudden illness in the midst of my charmed life brought on some reconsideration about the hectic pace of my life. My parents’ sacrifices had allowed me to become educated, not stopping at undergraduate school, but going on to law school. Later, I landed my dream job working to build great communities all over the world. As my mother lay increasingly stilled in her hospital bed in my parents’ tiny home I would be on my way to some “important” meeting and be called back by my father. “I can’t take care of her today – you’ll have to come home.”

    Together at her hospital bed, I reconnected with my father. I heard his stories of being uprooted from a strong culture of community and family life and ties to the land – and of my mother’s particular sadness at her being later disconnected from those things. I learned that big important meetings would go on without me just fine, and that the needs of “little people” like my parents made my work in building opportunity important not only philosophically but in the most personal way.

    Towards the end, my mother grew particularly reliant on Ross, our 20-year-old son. The most spiritually oriented of our immediate family, he was the only one with whom she would discuss death – that she knew was imminent. “Are you afraid to die?” he would ask her. “Yes,” she replied quickly. In addition, then hesitating, “Well, in a world where 20-year-olds die, how can I be afraid?” In addition, yet she was. For my part, I grew bitter at a world of suffering where someone shy, modest and kind could suffer so much. How could this happen and what did it portend? How could there be a God in such a world?

    She finally died on December 19, 2001, to our relief.

    However, the story does not end there. When he arrived, Simon Walter Lovely surprised a reluctant grandmother. I was after all, a hard-driving executive – not given to pausing for much of anything, much less cooing at babies.

    However, in his coming, he also brought a message. Two weeks late, he decided to show up on, of all days, December 19. I held Simon and then watched as my 88-year-old father, Walter, for whom Simon is named, awkwardly take his turn. I grabbed onto something at that moment. Call it hope; call it belief or something else. Perhaps, I can believe in what my mind, my education and my rational mind can’t explain – that maybe, just maybe … there is a Santa Claus.

    Sylvia L. Lovely is the Executive Director/CEO of the Kentucky League of Cities and the founder and president of the NewCities Institute. She currently serves as chair of the Morehead State University Board of Regents. Please send your comments to slovely@klc.org and visit her blog at sylvia.newcities.org.