Reformers to Radicals (14 page)

What was actually required for economic growth, in Whisman's opinion, was less concentration on rural schools and more on infrastructure development and efficient resource conservation and utilization. Included under this broad conception were housing loans for both new construction and renovation, a public works program involving road construction, parks, and recreational lakes, and administrative assistance for local communities undertaking such efforts. While Whisman's focus on development centered on upgrading existing facilities and programs or building new ones, he did not completely forget about those whom the Council hoped to help—the existing poor. For these people, he supported such traditionally based charity programs as surplus food and clothing distribution and the nascent Aid to Children of the Unemployed program. Finally, however, taking a position that must certainly have antagonized the CSM, he believed that all such projects should be administered “directly through an appropriate state agency” because such an arrangement would add the “advantage of higher standards of administration.”
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Whisman's objections notwithstanding, the AVs, in early 1964, established contact with local officials in Estill, Leslie, Harlan, Clay, Knott, and Pike counties and conducted forty-six renovation projects and one enrichment program in a total of twenty-two mountain schools. By the end of March 1964, according to the “Appalachian Volunteers First Progress Report,” over 570 volunteers participated in the AV effort. Just as important—since the agreement between the CSM and the ARA called for programs that would foster local participation in antipoverty projects—274 local people joined in the AV efforts in their respective communities. Getting local citizens involved, the CSM and the federal government agreed, effectively developed “local indigenous leadership resources” and avoided the appearance of charity, which, in turn, led to dependency, “a heritage [the AVs] want[ed] to destroy.”
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In purely physical terms, the renovation projects involved covering the walls and ceilings of the schools with new drywall, painting both the interior and the exterior, installing new flooring, repairing doors and windows, and building bookshelves. Looking beyond the renovations, however, the ARA and the CSM hoped that the Appalachian Volunteers program would circumvent dependency by leading to permanent community organizations that worked on their own toward economic development. The AVs' idea was that the refurbished schools would evolve into community centers. Like the Council's conception of community development, however, the Volunteers' conception of a community center was vague. Only a few programs (school winterization, adult literacy, and surplus food distribution) seemed geared toward economic betterment—and these only loosely so.
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ARA criteria for physical improvements notwithstanding, the Council hoped that its Appalachian Volunteer program would lead to “people development.” Ayer openly criticized any development plans that simply called for increased industrialization and use of natural resources without consciously including “people as the number one resource.” These types of strategies were too simplistic because they did not allow the individual to act as “the designer and creator of his own future.”
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These comments about development in the mountains are puzzling. Was Ayer arguing that the expansion of an already-dominant coal industry in eastern Kentucky did little to solve long-term needs? It is possible that he thought that industrial expansion (or the increased capitalization
of the coal industry) would not fundamentally change anything in Appalachia but simply subject the miner-mountaineer to yet another period of unemployment and uncertainty. Perhaps he was calling for a restructuring of the mountain economy. Or perhaps he believed that, problems in the local political economy aside, any mountain reform effort should center on people exclusively and that industrial expansion was a decision better left to businessmen than to a government agency. Given the direction of the AV program and the Council philosophy, the latter explanation seems more accurate.

Redirecting or altering Appalachian industry in the hope of ending poverty would not reflect the CSM's cooperative approach. Such an alteration, especially one imposed on business by the Council or any other entity, would have assigned blame for the desperate situation in the mountains and identified a culprit. This was not part of Ayer's cooperative solution. Moreover, any attempt to pressure industry to change its practices had the potential to affect industry donations, of which the Council was still very much in need. More to the point, however, was the Appalachian Volunteer program itself. Rooted in the concept of individual self-help, and concentrated on the schools, the AVs quickly became the Council's most significant and visible representatives. Any other effort in any other area would have drawn attention away from this people-orientated venture, and, in March 1964, despite their growing popularity, the Volunteers were still on financially tenuous ground.

As the year progressed, grants from the ARA and the Ford Foundation ensured that school renovation would continue throughout 1964. The work, however, was still far from easy. Because of the remote location of many of the mountain communities, physical contact with mountain residents was extraordinarily difficult. Nonetheless, through the month of April the Council's volunteers persisted in their school efforts. Their contacts with local citizens and county officials, moreover, provided them with a way to stress the cooperative approach and work with individuals. Most counties, the volunteers soon realized, had “development councils,” but they were dominated by representatives from the county seat. That they were so controlled was not, as the CSM saw it, the result of any malicious or underhanded intentions. Rather, few rural residents knew of the councils' existence, and, as a result, both suffered. The councils did not get input
from all parts of the county, and those residing in the hinterlands did not benefit from the councils' activity. In the end, the development councils were not effective.
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With the hope of remedying this situation, the CSM sought to organize rural communities around issues, such as school repair, that were important to them. Council of the Southern Mountains leaders believed that, if local residents became active locally, they would then become increasingly active in county affairs. They also believed that a higher level of citizen participation would result in county officials
inviting
their rural constituents to send representatives to countywide boards. Herein lies everything that the CSM wanted from its growing antipoverty efforts in eastern Kentucky: cooperation among all segments of the population and individuals playing significant roles in the programs designed to help them. With this goal in mind, the Council continued with its renovation and enrichment projects. The school projects, it seemed to believe, would be the first step toward solving “one of the biggest problems in Eastern Kentucky,” the lack of mountaineer participation in community action. Little did the CSM realize that this decision would prove to be quite significant in the near future.
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At this juncture, the Council of the Southern Mountains was finally well on its way toward a meaningful reform effort in central Appalachia. Ayer apparently recognized that school renovation was not an end in itself but a means toward more significant reform. The Appalachian Volunteers, nevertheless, stayed grounded in such projects for the remainder of 1964 and throughout 1965. Among the reasons for this was Ayer's view of the Council and his philosophy of cooperation. Another contributing factor was the immense popularity of school renovation with political leaders and the public as a whole. At that time, many Americans regarded educational-based programs as the solution to the problem of poverty, and this was reflected in the predominate attitudes of 1960s liberalism.

In 1964, Ayer linked the historical mission of the CSM with its ongoing focus on the educational needs of mountaineers. “The Council of the Southern Mountains,” he stated, “is unlike any other institution in this country. In a sense, the Council might be said to combine some of the attributes of a research institute, an extension service, and a learned society. In any event, about one fact there can be no dispute: The Council's business, its only business, is education—the advancement of knowledge.” Besides
linking the Council with the nation's top universities, this statement also links it with school-based projects.
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Because so many in addition to the CSM saw a lack of education as the major cause of poverty—and not just in Appalachia but nationwide—school-oriented efforts appeared to all as the solution to the problem. At a meeting with Kentucky state officials in Frankfort concerning the proposed Economic Opportunity Act, Jack Ciaccio of the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare argued that “education was the answer” to Appalachia's cycle of poverty. Having the nation's attention focused on eastern Kentucky would further highlight the region's educational deficits, but, should the pending antipoverty legislation receive congressional approval, Kentucky “schoolmen” could show that they could do a fantastic job if given the appropriate financial resources. For any war on poverty to be successful, agencies such as the state Department of Education must “take the initiative . . . and work closely with the Council of the Southern Mountains and Kentucky's colleges and universities.” Ciaccio urged Kentucky to start formulating plans immediately so that, if and when the antipoverty legislation passed, Kentucky could take advantage of it instantly. Most important, he hoped that the state would provide assistance to local school boards in their efforts to develop antipoverty projects. This would ensure that education would be given priority in local community action programs (CAPs).
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Support for the school renovation projects was not limited to federal bureaucrats, however. The program also received highly favorable publicity, especially from the
Louisville Courier-Journal
. In a March 15, 1964, article, the columnist John Fetterman referred to the Appalachian Volunteers as “young Samaritans in Appalachia.” So popular were the first few renovation projects, Fetterman wrote, that “pleas have come from” the superintendents of Knott, Floyd, and Leslie counties for the AVs to come to their districts. Less than a week later, a
Courier-Journal
editorial stated that the Volunteers “have done more good per dollar spent than any group, governmental or private, in the history of depressed areas.” This “domestic Peace Corps” should serve as the model for the national War on Poverty. Even the AV leader placed significant weight on school repair (implying, at the same time, his resignation toward the situation of the region's adult population). According to Ogle (as quoted by Fetterman), it was “vital ‘to get at the preschool and primary ages'”: “‘They haven't become exasperated and hopeless
about the future. [The AVs] might just make a big difference between what they are now and what they could be.'”
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As the Appalachian Volunteers prepared to close out the 1964 spring semester, they attempted to organize communities around issues other than school renovation. Despite these efforts—which succeeded at Persimmon Fork, in Leslie County, where the people expressed a desire for a new road into their community—most activity still centered on local schools. Even Persimmon Fork residents placed education high on their priority list. At Big Willard, in Perry County, residents and AV members sought ways to raise money in order to send their children on a field trip to the state capital. In short, while the AVs did find that the mountaineers certainly had concerns beyond their schools, education was never far from their minds. Even road repairs, which for the AVs gained in importance as the summer approached, were part of an overall school-oriented outlook. Improved roads translated to school bus service for rural children. What was ironic was the fact that the school-based projects were supposed to create a desire for education among rural mountaineers. Clearly, those impoverished people already had this aspiration. Yet the AVs failed to see it.
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AV plans for the coming summer called for an “exclusive concentration on community action programs.” The Volunteers claimed that, because of the work completed during the spring of 1964, they had “gained acceptance” in forty eastern Kentucky mountain communities. Through school renovation projects, the Appalachian Volunteers believed that they had demonstrated to rural mountaineers that they could improve their lives if they all worked together in an “organized” manner. Because the summer allowed student volunteers to spend more time in the mountains, AV leaders advocated weeklong, in addition to weekend, projects. Also, the AVs allotted time during the summer months to conducting follow-ups in those places where they began renovations and to solidify plans for the 1964–1965 school year.
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Despite their plans, the Volunteers got off to a relatively slow start in June 1964. AV leaders spent much of that month in consultation with Kentucky college officials, hoping to ensure their support for the AV program in the upcoming school year. The Council called two additional meetings that June. Because they still operated on a tight budget, CSM officials invited the state's business leaders to support the Appalachian Volunteers' efforts
through donations of virtually any type. Finally, the CSM board of directors met with the AV board. Though the AVs were part of the Council, they did have their own board, which consisted of a student representative from each member college and eight adults “whose experience and backgrounds enable them to make positive contributions” to the AV organization. The purpose of this third meeting was to establish policy guidelines that the Appalachian Volunteers would follow “when the Council's administrative responsibility to the effort has ended.” Ever since the start of the Appalachian Volunteers, nearly all those involved operated with the understanding that, after one year, the program would become, as Flem Messer stated, “a separate and action oriented organization.” Now, with campus chapters functioning and projects in various stages of development, it appeared as if the Appalachian Volunteers, at a mere six months of age, were all but ready to fend for themselves.
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