McDowell County, West Virginia, a region once synonymous with American coal production, is now grappling with a familiar cycle of hardship: the ebb and flow of government assistance, coupled with persistent economic struggles and a lingering public health crisis. While national economic indicators point towards growth, the reality for residents of this Appalachian county is a daily fight for survival.
The county, which at one point fueled the nation’s industrial expansion, now stands as one of the poorest in the United States. The decline of the coal industry has left a lasting scar, and the area has become a focal point for both the nation’s first food stamp program and, more recently, the opioid epidemic. Today, approximately one-third of McDowell County households rely on food stamps, a lifeline now threatened by proposed federal funding cuts.
A recent visit to McDowell County revealed a community deeply accustomed to broken promises. Residents describe a pattern of governmental support that arrives and departs, leaving them feeling forgotten by institutions at all levels. The county, stretching over 500 square miles, is characterized by its sparse population, limited infrastructure – boasting only one traffic light – and a strong reliance on faith-based organizations.
Access to basic necessities, such as clean drinking water, remains a significant challenge. Residents report that tap water is often discolored and unsafe, forcing many to rely on alternative sources. Pastor Brad Davis, who leads congregations at five United Methodist churches in the county, reflects a widespread sentiment: “I think, if you would ask, probably, nine out of 10 individuals here, they would tell you that they feel very much forgotten… Everybody, the government, every institution that you can think of.”
The sense of abandonment is compounded by a deep-rooted connection to the land. Residents express a reluctance to leave their homes, despite the hardships. “I’ve heard directly people say, ‘Well, why don’t people just move?’ And my response to that is: Why should we? Why should we have to move? Here’s home,” Pastor Davis stated.
The economic strain is acutely felt by families like that of Betty Stepp, a 76-year-old resident of Anawalt who remembers a time when the town thrived with a school, a theater, and a doctor. Today, a simple trip to purchase groceries requires a 45-minute drive over two mountains. “If I go to the grocery store, I can’t get out of there in less than $200. And that is– that’s a week. Sometimes it’s– $300. Groceries are really high,” Stepp explained, noting the necessity of cutting back on essential items like meat, and vegetables.
These struggles are occurring against a backdrop of rising food prices nationwide, with costs nearly 20% higher in 2026 than in 2022. The situation is further exacerbated by the recent government shutdown, which temporarily disrupted SNAP benefits, leading to an increase in demand at local food banks.
Linda McKinney, who runs the county’s largest food bank, reports a surge in new faces seeking assistance, including young mothers who never anticipated needing such support. “Lately, we have a lotta young mothers– that come. And they’ll say, ‘I never thought I’d have to come.’ and the children is what breaks my heart. They didn’t ask to be brought into this situation. And they suffer daily,” McKinney said.
The county’s challenges extend beyond food insecurity. The opioid crisis continues to devastate communities, leaving a generation of parents lost and placing an increased burden on family members like Tabitha Collins, a 26-year-old mother of four who is now the sole income earner for her family. Collins, whose fiancé was disabled in a work accident, relies on government assistance to make ends meet.
“We rely on the benefits– very much. And it’s not because we’re takin’ advantage of the government. It’s because we actually need these things,” Collins stated. She described the difficult choices families face, often having to decide between purchasing groceries and paying utility bills, citing a December electricity bill of $480 and a subsequent disconnection notice.
The looming threat of federal funding cuts to SNAP and Medicaid programs adds another layer of uncertainty. These cuts, resulting from a domestic policy bill passed last year, are expected to disproportionately impact West Virginia, potentially leaving tens of thousands without vital assistance.
Despite the hardships, a strong sense of community resilience prevails. Retirees like Betty Stepp volunteer to deliver water to neighbors struggling with contaminated water supplies, and residents emphasize the importance of mutual support. “If we don’t help each other, no one’s going to help us,” McKinney asserted.
The water crisis itself is a long-standing issue, with residents reporting that the water supply is often unsafe for consumption. Pastor Davis highlighted the severity of the situation, stating that some residents haven’t been able to take a hot shower in six years due to the fumes from the water. The county has received $8.3 million in federal funds to upgrade water lines, but officials acknowledge that this is insufficient to address the full extent of the problem.
Politically, McDowell County has experienced a shift in recent years, with residents expressing a willingness to support candidates who promise change, regardless of party affiliation. However, a pervasive sense of disillusionment remains, as promises of economic revitalization and infrastructure improvements have repeatedly gone unfulfilled. “It doesn’t matter if it’s Republicans or Democrats. It doesn’t matter,” Stepp said, reflecting a widespread sentiment of political apathy.
As McDowell County navigates these ongoing challenges, residents remain determined to persevere, clinging to their community and their sense of home. “This is home,” Pastor Davis reiterated, encapsulating the enduring spirit of a county grappling with a complex legacy of economic decline, public health crises, and broken promises.
