Residents in Virginia spar over gravel or paved roads; some want progress, others want historic preservation

Sheep farming is a way of life for some Loudoun residents.
(Washington Post photo)

Their plan might be unorthodox and controversial, but some residents in western Loudoun County, Va., aim to save their "picturesque rural enclave" from suburban sprawl by "putting all of the roughly 250 miles of gravel roads that meander across the county on the National Register of Historic Places," report Justin Jouvenal, Bonnie Jo Mount and Jayne Orenstein of The Washington Post. "Some say protecting Loudoun's gravel roads will ensure its rustic soul and charm survive a suburban onslaught. But not everyone wants to go along for the ride."

Map by Tim Mek, WP, from
Loudoun County data

Some of Loudoun County has already been sub-urbanized by new homes, restaurants and thousands of residents who work in Washington, D.C. But in this slice of the county, some see that keeping unpaved roads will prevent a burbs takeover. "Supporters say the lanes evoke Loudoun's rural soul, history and charm," the Post reports. "Detractors see a quixotic quest to thwart the most basic steps into modernity. They complain of rattling rides to work and Starbucks that sometimes feel like sitting in the seat of a tractor."

The battle of unpaved vs. improved is so contentious that "Loudoun County Supervisor Caleb Kershner refers to it as the 'road wars.' Similar fights have played out in other localities across the country as the movement to preserve unpaved roads has gained traction in recent decades," Jouvenal, Mount and Orenstein write. "A network of roads is an atypical pick for the National Park Service's register. . . . Supporters say Loudoun's roads belong there because they span the sweep of American history."

Sheep have the right-of-way in Loudoun.
(Washington Post photo)

"The plan, spearheaded by a group called America’s Routes, is also a bid to hold on to something intangible — a kind of life that has all but disappeared in the pressure cooker of the nation’s capital," the Post reports. "But where some see character, others see a dirty track, as rutted as an old washboard, that grows less appealing with each flat tire and trip to the car wash."

The battle continues. "These competing visions erupted at a Board of Supervisors meeting in September, where residents clashed for over an hour over paving a handful of roads — including just 300 feet of one," according to the article. "The Virginia Department of Transportation launched a pilot project about six years ago that put a layer of concrete beneath the gravel to stabilize the road — a sort of middle ground between paving and not paving."

To read out about a hidden but pivotal piece of U.S. Civil War history that took place at Beaverdam Ford along Loudoun gravel roads, read the full story here.

What is milk? The heated debate between labeling animal and plant 'milk' continues with spoofs and a Muppet

'Got milk?' ad campaigns poke fun at their competitions'
claims. (California Milk Processor Board photo)

Got milk? The question is still a dairy ad slogan, but it's also a part of a contentious debate. "A flood of plant-based milk alternatives — almond, oat, coconut, rice, flax, hemp and soy — has set off an aggressive defense by dairy milk producers," reports Kristina Peterson of The Wall Street Journal. "Milk producers and their allies are lobbying to scrub 'milk' off the labels of plant-based rivals. Their position is: If it doesn't come from a lactating animal, it isn't milk."

As part of their campaign, animal milk producers have deployed an array of spoofs to point out what milk is. In one mockumentary-style video, an actress looks at a tree and asks, "Can I drink this?" Peterson writes, "As it turns out, the answer is yes, she says before taking a stomach-turning sip. The video, which collected 5.7 million views, is among several from the Milk Processor Education Program, an industry-funded group known as MilkPep."

Cookie Monster gives soy a try and declares it
'yumyumyum.' (Photo via PR Newswire)

Plant-based milk companies have their own arsenal of promoters, including one of America's most beloved snack lovers. Peterson reports, "Califia Farms recruited Cookie Monster, the blue-furred 'Sesame Street' Muppet, to try almond milk in his cereal for an ad. No surprise, the celebrity milk dunker liked it, calling himself a 'multifaceted individual.'"

Over the years, plant-based milk has chipped away at animal-based dairy profits, but both face stiff market competition. "Sales of plant-based milk, measured by dollars, have grown 48% since 2018 but edged down in the past year," Peterson explains. "The two rivals also face a tsunami of bottled-, canned- and boxed-water competitors — all vying to fill a limited niche."

Last year, the Food and Drug Administration proposed that "plant-based beverages could still be called milk but should carry labels that explain the nutritional differences with cow's milk," Peterson reports. Neither side was happy with the FDA's compromise. Almond growers growled that their customers weren't confused about the differences between the two products. The Almond Alliance, a trade group, told the FDA that "historians have traced almond milk to medieval times, dispelling any notion it originated in an artisanal coffee joint."

Animal dairy producers have asked lawmakers to intervene by "prohibiting any food made of nuts, seeds, plants or algae from using such dairy terms as milk or cheese," Peterson writes. Republican U.S. Rep. Mike Simpson of Idaho, a state where dairy dominates the agricultural sector, is a sponsor of the bill. Simpson told the Journal, "I'm not trying to restrict what you can drink. Just label it what it is. I got no problem with almond 'drink.'"

After at least 3 fentanyl deaths in 7 months, weekly in small Kentucky county alerts its readers to dangers, details

Most of this week's front page; click it to enlarge.
Photo illustration is based on a DEA image. 

After three fentanyl overdoses since June in Crittenden County, Kentucky, the first recorded in the county of 9,000 people, and another death in which fentanyl could have been a contributing factor, the local editor-publisher thought it was time to alert his readers to the danger.

"Considered by some as the grim reaper of recreational drugs, fentanyl has hit Crittenden County like a reaper’s scythe over last the few months," Chris Evans of The Crittenden Press began his story, which reported the deaths without the victims' names, noted that the county normally has about three overdoses of any drug in a year, then gave a rationale for the story and made it an implicit example to follow: "Observers say small communities like Marion should raise awareness or prepare to see more deaths in their neighborhoods."

Evans quotes local and state officials and writes, "Fentanyl is approximately 100 times stronger than morphine and 50 times more potent than heroin. Illegal manufacturers often lack understanding, ability and precision to make fentanyl. It’s not a forgiving drug. One minuscule mistake is irreversibly deadly."

Dr. Christopher Kiefer of the state medical examiner’s office told him, “High-school-age kids might be swapping pills. That’s not uncommon. They might think they’re getting a mild painkiller pressed in a lab. They might think it’s Oxycodone or Lortab, but it ends up being fentanyl. You don’t have to be using a needle to die of an overdose. . . . It is a dangerous time right now because people don’t know what they’re getting,”

Crittenden County (Wikipedia map)

Evans adds, "The doctor further explains that fentanyl made and distributed on the black market can be dressed or disguised as just about anything. Someone may think they’re getting a pill from a friend’s mom’s medicine cabinet when it’s something far more sinister and deadly." He quotes Marion Police Chief Bobby West as saying that families and friends of drug users can be the best preventers of overdoses, and “Conversations need to be had about this drug and how it can kill you.”

Evans concludes, "The stark reality of this drug is that it can creep undected into any corner of society and become an instant killer. Now, it’s in Marion." His package also includes sidebars about synthetic opioids (fentanyl is one) and a quick-look box giving street names for the drug, how it is used, what it does and what an overdose can look like: "Stupor, changes in pupil size, clammy skin, cyanosis, coma, and respiratory failure."

Evans has made this week's issue available online, here.

Hoarding disorders are more easily hidden in rural communities and getting treatment is more challenging

A hoarding disorder can be less visible in rural places.
(Photo via RHIHub)

Some people have a lot of stuff, but too many piles of too many things may be evidence of a hoarding disorder. For rural residents, who skew older and have more available storage space, hoarding can mean "unseen" health and safety risks," reports Gretel Kauffman for Rural Health Information Hub. "About 2% percent of the general population experiences hoarding disorder. Among older adults over 55, the prevalence rate jumps up to more than 6%, making people increasingly vulnerable to the disorder as they age."

Hoarding disorder is a relatively new diagnosis. It was added to Psychiatry's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders in 2013. The DSM defines hoarding disorder as "persistent difficulty discarding or parting with possessions, regardless of their actual value. . . due to a perceived need to save the items and to the distress associated with discarding them. . . . It causes clinically significant distress or impairment . . . including maintaining a safe environment for oneself or others."

Letting go of things can be emotionally charged, and as people age, they may become physically unable to move items from their homes, which can add to distress. "Left untreated, the disorder can lead to health risks, such as an increased risk of falling, fire hazards, food contamination, poor sanitary and hygienic conditions, trouble keeping track of medications, and infestations of mold, insects, or rodents. It may exacerbate other conditions such as depression and anxiety," Kauffman explains. "In rural settings, identifying and reaching people struggling to part with their possessions can be extra difficult . . . . And getting someone into treatment in the first place can be a challenge."

Because remote areas offer so many unique "homes" for saving things -- barns, smokehouses, sheds, unoccupied houses, and even corn cribs -- sometimes family and neighbors have no idea how much stuff is being hoarded. Catherine Ayers, a professor of psychiatry at the University of California, calls the diagnosis "unseen." She told Kauffman, "It's not bothering other people, because there's so much space. They don't have a neighbor that is having roaches or bedbugs come over, so there's no urgency yet."

It's important for family, friends and providers to keep in mind that a hoarding disorder is harmful. Kauffman adds, "To identify and treat hoarding disorder early on, Ayers recommends that primary care providers ask all of their patients a few simple, non-stigmatizing questions, such as, 'Does the number of possessions you have in your home make it difficult to use the rooms in the way they're intended?' or 'Have friends and family members complained that you have too many items in your home?'" For people seeking treatment in more remote areas, telehealth and remote learning can be treatment options.

Opinion: We were friends for years, but our different views about Donald Trump tore us apart

Art Cullen

This opinion piece by Art Cullen, editor of the Storm Lake Times Pilot in Iowa, was first published as a guest essay by The New York Times. 

I miss my friends. We lost one another somewhere along the way, through the pandemic and politics of the last few years, old boys who had known one another since Little League and caught boatloads of walleyes together on Storm Lake in Iowa.

We gathered around a pool table a couple of times a week for many years to see where the fish were biting, to learn who is putting up that building on the edge of town and to exaggerate exploits of days gone by. Our political discussions were limited to Hawkeyes (University of Iowa) versus Cyclones (Iowa State) football or how city hall don’t know siccum.

There were complaints that Barack Obama wanted to take our guns. And that those idlers ought to get a job and quit complaining. And that a little guy couldn’t compete in the trades anymore when the big outfits hired undocumented labor to underbid them on local jobs.

But it was mainly jokes shouted over classic rock. If things got too heavy, our resident sage, Rooster, would commandeer the discussion and suck all the oxygen from the room with a rant about how most of the world’s problems could be solved or at least avoided if weed were legal.

Illustration by Gabriel Carr, NYT

Not even Rooster could talk over Donald Trump. A would-be tyrant holed up at a Florida golf course with a bunch of sycophants changed the conversation in our metal shed. Its walls could not ward off the bombardment of propaganda, lies and false fears fostered by a half century of justifiable frustration wrought by consolidation, decline and loss.

The pandemic kept us away. I was lonely. I visited Rooster at his little bachelor shack and watched “Wagon Train” reruns. He wasn’t feeling the best. We got back to shooting pool, though it wasn’t long before Rooster laid down his guns and died. Cancer got him fast. It should have shaken us straight, but hell sort of broke loose. Arguments started over vaccines and masks and Mr. Trump. The rodeo clown was no longer there to distract the raging bull set loose by the bombardment.

So, I quit shooting.

One of my old friends, or shall I say acquaintances, recently said on Facebook that I lacked integrity after I posted an editorial from our newspaper complaining about Mr. Trump’s contempt for the democratic process and rule of law. I’ve been a community newspaper editor for decades and no stranger to controversy, having angered the agribusiness gods and endured their reprobation, but I have to say that barb stuck. Our mothers were good friends. They would not have spoken that way about each other, at least in public.

We’re old enough for Social Security and to recall scooping the loop in a jacked-up Chevelle waiting for “Beaker Street” to beam over the AM airwaves from Little Rock, Ark. Or how you used to bring your shotgun to Storm Lake High School and leave it in your locker so you could bag a pheasant in a freshly picked cornfield after school. Rush Limbaugh took over AM, and the shotgun gave way to the assault rifle.

You would think we could see around our differences. We can’t. We’ve been programmed by nonstop propaganda, especially those of us in Iowa besieged by presidential campaigns and the wedge issues they drill home. Instead of trying to hash things out, I just quit trying. My bad. I got tired.

Small-town hacks learn who their friends are. We publish uncomfortable facts of public interest and opinions that often go against the grain. Businesses stop advertising because you wrote about their lawsuit. That I get. It’s a hazard of the occupation that I regret every day. You pledge to do better even when you have done nothing wrong.

The ad hominem attacks have become the norm, especially since Mr. Trump took center stage and refused to exit. We went from Iowa Nice to Iowa Nasty. We’re stuck there whether Mr. Trump leaves or hangs around. That’s my lament.

You can’t just talk about the weather anymore, or how to smoke a trout, or compliment Solo on his pickled Polish sausage. You make new friends but they don’t necessarily replace the ones you lost right here in your hometown. I text my buddy in New York nearly every day, but I can’t shoot pool with him. I still shoot pool with Solo, our retired pressman, in the bubble of our former pressroom. He kind of liked Representative Steve King at one time because he took on the Establishment. I differed. We sweated a lot together, slinging ink, even bleeding a little, for the truth at 15,000 impressions per hour. That’s worth more than Steve King.

I know where I live. Northwest Iowa is a frozen slice of Texas, one of the most conservative places in the country. I guess I am what you call woke because I don’t think immigrants are the problem; I think income — lack of it — is the problem. All this talk about bathroom bills and book bans is one giant distraction from how global corporations have stolen our franchise. I am not the enemy of the people, dude — we were in Cub Scouts together.

Rooster would have pointed that out in an outrageous way, and he would have ridiculed us all for being that stupid and blind. We would have laughed and cracked another cold one, and grabbed some more of that trout. Those were the days.

Art Cullen is the editor of The Storm Lake Times Pilot and author of “Storm Lake: A Chronicle of Change, Resilience, and Hope From a Heartland Newspaper.”

Eagle Pass, Texas, continues to face an ongoing immigration feud between state and federal leaders

A family talks with the National Guard in Eagle Pass.
(Photo by Go Nakamura, Reuters via WP)

In Eagle Pass, Texas, the immigration battle between Texas Gov. Greg Abbott (R) and the federal government has ratcheted up area tensions as both sides seek to control the border.

In a move "invoking the state's right to defend itself against what he sees as an invasion," Abbot ordered the Texas National Guard to continue building a 2.5-mile blockage along the Rio Grande to prevent immigrants from "invading," reports Arelis R. Hernández of The Washington Post. Meanwhile, the U.S. Supreme Court has "ordered Abbott to allow Border Patrol agents to remove or cut wire to reach the river and aid migrants in distress. . . . Abbott's troops are installing even more wire. Twenty-five Republican governors recently signed a letter expressing their support for Abbott's rebellion."

The power struggle between Abbott and the Biden administration leaves Eagle Pass residents in the cross-hairs of a situation where compromise looks unlikely. The region's economic dependence on border crossing means many townspeople have their daily lives and incomes disrupted by the tensions. "Eagle Pass is the largest city in Maverick County, with nearly 30,000 residents, but it is isolated from most other U.S. border cities," Hernández writes. "Mexicans who cross legally make up nearly half of Eagle Pass's workforce; many U.S. residents also cross the river to work. . . ."

Eagle Pass high school track students can't use Shelby Park for practice because Abbott seized the park in January and the town's hotels remained packed with out-of-towners. Eagle Pass residents are shocked at the attention. Mike Garcia, a retired insurance salesman and active Chamber of Commerce member, told Hernández, "People now know where Eagle Pass is, but are we famous or infamous?"

For the foreseeable future, the feud will continue and locals will struggle to have their voices heard. Hernández explains, "The state's border with Mexico is an international boundary under the jurisdiction of federal authorities, but Abbott and his allies contend they have the right to intervene because the Biden administration hasn't done enough to stanch the record number of migrants trying to enter Texas illegally in recent months. . . . Locals here hold views on immigration that are as complicated as the stories of how their families became fronterizos, or borderlanders. . . . Residents said federal and state elected leaders routinely leave them out of the conversation."

A year after the East Palestine derailment, some residents have not returned home, and others report health problems

The site of the East Palestine train derailment.
(Photo by Cara Owsley, The Enquirer via USA Today)

More than a year has passed since the Norfolk Southern train derailment in East Palestine, Ohio, left the unsuspecting community of 5,000 living in the aftermath of a hazardous chemical explosion and its mitigating "controlled chemical burn." Many residents believe their lives are forever changed because of toxic exposure during and after the disaster.

Five days after the accident, Ohio officials announced that it was safe for residents to return home. "But five families who spoke to The Cincinnati Enquirer . . . just before the one-year anniversary say they're still dealing with health problems," reports Elizabeth B. Kim of The USA Today Network. Despite the lack of scientific studies tying the derailment's toxic spill to long-term health problems, "relocated families are still experiencing symptoms and foot many of their medical bills without help from the railroad or the government. They don't consider their East Palestine homes to be safe, and they're worried that moving back will worsen their symptoms."

Financial help from Norfolk Southern ends on Feb. 9 for families who relocated to other areas. "Some of the symptoms families say they face are chronic, and others are acute, appearing suddenly after a short period of time spent in one's home," Kim writes. "Christa Graves, 49, has had migraines before, but they increased in frequency from weekly to daily starting last February. . . . While Norfolk Southern offered to relocate people living within a mile of the derailment site, Graves lives 1.2 miles away. The railroad denied her request for relocation assistance, and her family has been unable to move out ever since."

Despite residents' reported health problems, the town's air and water have repeatedly passed quality testing. Anne Vogel, director of the Ohio EPA, said, "The agency is not planning to offer more residential air testing following those initial results," Kim reports. Ohio EPA "has also continued weekly sampling of the municipal water system since February 2023 and reported that no contaminants from the derailment have been detected."

Beyond ongoing health issues and expenses, families who have been unable to go home "described the crushing blow of losing their homes, sometimes passed down for generations," Kim reports. "Candy Kiehl still feels a strong connection to her East Palestine house despite feeling unconvinced that it's free of contamination." Kiehl told her: "That was my grandparents' house. That's where my mom passed away. That's where my dad passed away. But is it safe? I don't know."

A new way of evaluating food as healthy or unhealthy could improve diets but also cut profits for major companies

Gummy worms are ultra-processed.
(Photo by Karsten Winegeart, Unsplash)

What does ultra-processed food sound like? It sounds like the polyglycerol polyricinoleate in Hershey's chocolate or the tripotassium phosphate in Cheerios, or more broadly, the protein isolates or emulsifiers that "aren't normally found in a domestic kitchen," reports Carol Ryan of The Wall Street Journal. "Growing scrutiny of the peculiar ingredients in popular snack foods might be bad news for their makers."

Evaluating foods based on their ingredients vs. salt, sugar and fat content to determine if they are "ultra-processed" comes from "a way of classifying foods, called Nova, that emerged in Brazil over a decade ago," Ryan explains. "It is also a new way to think about diet. Nova groups foods based on how intensively processed they are. Some scientists think that industrial processing of food itself might be harmful and encourage overeating."

Nova's evidence is controversial, but "it is being taken seriously, including at policy level. The U.S. government will give Americans fresh diet advice in 2025 as part of a review that happens once every five years," Ryan reports. "For the first time, federal researchers and health experts will examine the relationship between ultra-processed foods and the risk of obesity. A scientific report is expected this year."

Meanwhile, big food companies are monitoring the debate, which could cut into revenues. "Ultra-processed snacks and meals are highly profitable. Major packaged food companies, including Kraft Heinz, General Mills and Nestlé, made an average operating margin of 17% over the past five years, according to FactSet data," Ryan writes. "Products that fall under Nova's UPF category make up roughly 57% of the average American and British diet and an even greater proportion for children."

Some ingredients in processed foods are there to give food a longer shelf life, prevent waste or lower costs. According to a Barclays analysis, "products containing the most common preservative, emulsifier and sweetener additives were 5% cheaper than their category average," Ryan reports. "Even foods that target health-conscious consumers — such as oat milk and plant-based meat — can be intensely processed, as manufacturers try to mimic the taste, texture and smell of animal products."

Quick hits: Elmo helps adults; schools sue social media; rural hearing loss; chatbot and climate deniers talk

Elmo told NBC Today reporters, "I'm really glad I asked."
(NBC News photo)

Feeling weary? You're not alone. "Thousands of people unloaded their life problems on Elmo last week after the red Muppet posed a casual question on X: 'How is everybody doing?' Not well, it seems," reports Angela Yang of NBC News. "The question opened the floodgates to a deluge of internet users eager to vent to the children's show character that had somehow signed himself up to be the internet's newest therapist." Sesame Street used Elmo's touching text to provide emotional health education for adults.

Last week, social media leaders took a grilling by a U.S. Senate committee for their role in helping sexual predators solicit and abuse children. But Congress isn't the only entity looking for social media accountability. "More than 200 school districts have now sued the major social media companies over the youth mental health crisis," reports Arianna Prothero for Education Weekly. "What started as a single lawsuit filed by the Seattle public schools one year ago has morphed into an all-out offensive against the social media platforms. . . . It is still the early stages of this legal saga, but experts say it could prove to be highly consequential for K-12 education — win, lose, or settle."

The world is learning to love cheese. (Canva photo)

Whether it's salty bites of chewy Mimolette or the stretchy delight of melted Gouda, cheese is among the few things many global citizens can agree on. "People can't get enough cheese, regardless of what continent they live on," reports Fran Howard of Dairy Herd. "Cheese has long been a staple in many countries' cuisine, and in those cultures where cheese has more recently been introduced, demand continues to rise." Sarina Sharp, an analyst with the Daily Dairy Report, told Howard: "Global cheese demand just keeps climbing."

Hearing loss is often more common in rural men.
(Photo by Jed Owens, Unsplash)

Along with stiff muscles and diminishing eyesight, aging often includes hearing loss, but rural men are more likely to experience it than others. "A new estimate shows hearing loss affects approximately 37.9 million Americans and is more common in rural areas than urban ones and in men than women," reports Devi Shastri of The Associated Press. "While the study could not explain the reason for the geographic divide, experts who treat hearing loss say there are two factors to consider: how loud noises are and how often people hear them."

Teacher by day and farmer by night, Marcia Ruff helped build her family's Circleville, Ohio, farm from the ground up. She teaches kindergarten during the week but spends most evenings and weekends working on the farm with her husband, Mark, and three children, reports Cheyenne Kramer of Farm Journal. Ruff told Kramer, "This is really the dream life I had envisioned. As a teacher, you educate children and prepare them for the world, but as a farmer, you feed the world." Kramer reports, "Ruff was the 2023 'Women in Ag' award winner. Read more about the Ruffs here.

Freepik photo

Some interesting things happen when humans discuss social issues with an AI chatbot. "In a study recently published in the journal Scientific Reports, researchers at the University of Wisconsin asked people to strike up a climate conversation with a GPT-3," reports Kate Yoder of Grist. "The study analyzed the bot’s interactions with more than 3,000 people, mostly in the United States, from across the political spectrum. Roughly a quarter of them came into the study with doubts about established climate science, and they tended to come away from their chatbot conversations a little more supportive of the scientific consensus."

How Facebook has hurt community papers; a new study examines problems beyond finances

Nick Mathews

As many local newspapers struggle to sustain their business and audience, Facebook remains a staunch competitor for revenue and readers. A new study by Nick Mathews, an assistant professor at the University of Missouri's journalism school, "analyzes the impact of Facebook on rural and small-town news organizations' daily operations," reports Austin Fitzgerald. "Mathews zeroes in on the social media platform's increasing dominance of community news that was once the domain of local newspapers — birthday announcements, new jobs, and the sorts of daily life events readers once clipped from newspapers and tacked on their refrigerators."

The analysis by Mathews and Benjamin Toff, an assistant professor at the University of Minnesota, is a new way to examine how and why local news outlets are struggling. Mathews told Fitzgerald: "The economic challenges that these social platforms have created are well understood, so in this piece, we took a different tack. We're looking at the actual content of publications that are being impacted. It's not just an economic crisis — it's an existential one."

Benjamin Toff

"'We Were Facebook before Facebook': The Existential (Not Only Economic) Threat to Community Weekly Newspapers in the US" was published in Digital Journalism in December 2023. Fitzgerald reports, "Mathews and Toff interviewed owners and editors of weekly newspapers in Virginia to better understand Facebook's impacts on content and what they mean for local news organizations. . . . According to highly respected research from Penny Abernathy at Northwestern University, Virginia has seven counties without a local news source and 94 counties with only one source."

"One editor had a very poignant concern," Mathews told Fitzgerald. "They were concerned their newspaper is not telling the full story of their community anymore. People might not understand how important that submitted content is for weekly newspapers. These papers still want to highlight the individual successes and stories of their communities, but community members are posting that content elsewhere." Fitzgerald reports, "Mathews said this loss of a critical component of local news has forced weekly newspapers into a difficult position, in which they see themselves in direct competition with a social media giant and are increasingly forced to fill the gap in local coverage with national and other less-relevant news."

Mathews is also one of the authors working on a new book, which looks at how newspapers are "finding creative ways to repair and strengthen connections with their communities," Fitzgerald writes. Mathews told him: "They do things like monthly mingles, just hosting people in their offices with beer, wine and snacks. These meetings are so phenomenal to meet people, and it's hard to have animosity toward people if you have actually met them. You're not going to turn around and call them 'the lying media' if you just talked to them."

Opinion: The closing of Washington news bureaus and cuts in reporting jobs hurt democracy and voters

Cameron Joseph

News bureaus in Washington were once hives of intelligence gathering for regional reporting as well as an important way to cover the actions of individual lawmakers for hometown audiences. Freelance reporter Cameron Joseph shares his perspective on last week's Los Angeles Times layoffs and what the loss of D.C. bureaus means for democracy and local news.

Last week, the Times laid off 115 people, more than 20 percent of its staff. "If those cuts went to the bone, in Washington, D.C., it was more like an amputation: nearly half of the bureau’s journalists were let go," Joseph writes. "I’m not just mourning for them. . . . . As the San Francisco Chronicle’s Shira Stein noted, these latest cuts leave just herself, two people from McClatchy, and the five people at the L.A. Times as the only journalists covering D.C. for California-based newspapers. That’s eight print reporters covering the entire federal government — for a state of thirty-nine million people."

But California still has it better than many other states. "Most states don’t have a single reporter covering Washington on the ground anymore," Joseph adds. "This is corrosive to democracy in many ways. . . .The most glaring problem is that lawmakers aren’t held to account. There’s no one to confront congressmen on a daily basis or make sure they’re not breaking the law. Local issues don’t get scrutinized. And with the exception of camera-hungry congressmen and national figures, most lawmakers barely get covered at all."

Most states no longer have reporters covering
Washington, D.C. (Photo by Noelle, Unsplash)

When only the loudest or most aggressive voices are the only ones heard, polarization intensifies. "Without local coverage, the only times most Americans hear about their representatives are from campaign ads or when they’re on national news talking about partisan issues," Joseph explains. "If the only way to gain attention (and raise money) is to talk about national issues on Fox News or MSNBC, why bother taking a political risk to cross the aisle and try to solve problems that actually matter to your district?"

It didn't used to be this way. "In the late 2000s, the New York Daily News, which then had a robust D.C. bureau, led the drumbeat to get healthcare and financial compensation for the first responders and victims of the 9/11 attacks," Joseph writes. "Members of Congress had to be publicly shamed for months by cancer-ridden and dying firemen, EMTs, and police before they eventually created the program. Most of the bill’s opponents were Republicans, but it got passed partly because members from the New York tri-state area from both parties, who fought hard for bipartisan support, got local recognition — and credit — from the Daily News."

"As I write this column, my former colleagues at the New York Daily News are in the midst of a twenty-four-hour walkout to protest the 'constant cuts and apparent commitment to shrinking the paper' of their current corporate overlords. There are barely 50 staff left," Joseph reports. "Since 2005, two-thirds of newspaper journalism roles have been wiped out. . . . A total of 130 local newspapers closed in 2023, according to a study by Northwestern University’s Medill Journalism School — an average of more than ten a month."

"But if the L.A. Times — the largest, most powerful paper not on the Eastern Seaboard — can’t maintain a serious presence in the nation’s capital, who can?"

Cheap prison labor is used to supply businesses with all sorts of products; but prisoners can be vulnerable to abuse

Prisoners are forced laborers without 13th Amendment
protections. (Photo by Rebecca Blackwell, AP)

Less than a decade ago, a New York Times story ran with this headline, "A Small Indiana County Sends More People to Prison Than San Francisco and Durham, N.C., Combined. Why?" The story goes on to explore America's prison belt, which was brimming with rural residents, often sentenced for drug crimes by more conservative courts. But, if sending people away for extensive sentences is a rural answer to crime, residents may want to know what the incarcerated do while serving those sentences.

Angola, Louisiana, is home to the country's largest maximum-security prison, which used to be a Southern slave plantation but is now a vast farming facility with prisoner labor. "Unmarked trucks packed with prison-raised cattle roll out of the Louisiana State Penitentiary, where men are sentenced to hard labor and forced to work, for pennies an hour or sometimes nothing at all," reports Robin McDowell and Margie Mason of The Associated Press. "The cows are bought by a local rancher and then followed by The Associated Press another 600 miles to a Texas slaughterhouse that feeds into the supply chains of giants like McDonald's, Walmart and Cargill."

Prison workers are vulnerable to exploitation and abuse. "If they refuse to work, some can jeopardize their chances of parole or face punishment like being sent to solitary confinement," McDowell and Mason write. "They also are often excluded from protections guaranteed to almost all other full-time workers, even when they are seriously injured or killed on the job."

The 13th Amendment to the Constitution outlaws slavery and involuntary servitude "except as punishment for a crime," AP reports. "That clause is currently being challenged on the federal level, and efforts to remove similar language from state constitutions are expected to reach the ballot in about a dozen states this year."

Meanwhile, many U.S. prisons "lease" incarcerated people for labor. "An analysis of data amassed by the AP from correctional facilities nationwide traced nearly $200 million worth of sales of farmed goods and livestock to businesses over the past six years," McDowell and Mason write. That amount does not include sales to state and government entities. 

Corporations who "hire" prisoners not only harness cheap, reliable labor, but they may reap additional benefits such as tax credits and other financial incentives. "Incarcerated workers also typically aren't covered by the most basic protections, including workers' compensation and federal safety standards," AP reports. "In many cases, they cannot file official complaints about poor working conditions."

Linking prison labor to shelved products requires following a complex web, but AP found "Mammoth commodity traders that are essential to feeding the globe like Cargill, Bunge, Louis Dreyfus, Archer Daniels Midland and Consolidated Grain and Barge have in recent years scooped up millions of dollars' worth of soy, corn and wheat straight from prisons, which compete with local farmers."

To read how AP reporters crisscrossed the country to uncover agriculture trading practices tied to prison labor, read the full story here.

This town's rural college closed, but its community created a new way to provide educational support

 Chatfield College grounds and chapel 
(Photo by Grace McConnell, Hechringer Report)

Chatfield College closed a year ago, but the farming village of Fayetteville, Ohio, pop. 241, is using the "assets left by the defunct college to help at least some local students continue their educations past high school," reports Jon Marcus for the The Hechringer Report, which covers education. "Advocates are trying to keep the proportion of rural high school graduates who go to college from falling even further than it already has."

When a small-town college closes, one of the more unfortunate things is the acute loss of opportunity. Even though Chatfield, which offered two-year associate degrees, had only 129 students before its closing -- and about half of them took classes online -- Amber Saeidi Asl, who grew up next to the campus, told Marcus, "It was the heart of the area." Marcus adds, "She took courses offered by Chatfield through a dual-enrollment program while she was still in high school, and eventually went there. Just having a college nearby inspired her to go, she said."

Nearly 13 million Americans now live in places, mainly in the Midwest and Great Plains, "where the nearest college or university is beyond a reasonable commute away, the American Council on Education reports. The nearest colleges to the Chatfield campus — a community college and a branch of the University of Cincinnati — are about 45 minutes away," Marcus writes. Anna Robertson, who attended Chatfield until it closed, told Marcus, "For a lot of college students living in rural areas, it's just not feasible to drive to one of the city universities."

When Chatfield closed, its educational community formed the Chatfield College endowment, called Chatfield Edge, Marcus reports. "It has provided volunteer mentors, career counseling, assistance with admission and financial aid applications and other help to 21 students, and scholarships of about $1,500 per semester to 19 of them, said David Hesson, director of programs, who was an associate dean at the college."

The scope of Chatfield Edge includes helping families afford trade school and certificate programs. "The target is low-income high school students who would be the first in their families to go to college and students who are older than the traditional age," Marcus writes. "Robertson, who now is finishing her bachelor's degree at Asbury University in Kentucky, is among the beneficiaries." Robert Elmore, Chatfield's last president, told Marcus: "We said we don't have to necessarily provide the education. But we could support them, and we know what that looks like, and we have the scholarship money to cover the gap."

The Great Backyard Bird Count begins this week; more than 7,500 species were identified in 2023

All ages can participate in GBBC.
(Photo by Lisa Birt via Birdcount.org)

The Great Backyard Bird Count begins this Friday, and spotters are expected to identify more than 7,000 species of birds as part of the annual count.

The count runs from Friday, Feb. 16 through Monday, Feb. 19 and is back for its 27th year of delightful bird sightings. During last year's count, 150,000 of the striking Baikal Teal were reported in South Korea. The duck is one of the country's most beautiful. A Lewis's Woodpecker was spotted in Canada — the species typically winters in the southwestern United States. An Indigo Bunting was spied in Ontario; the bird usually heads to Mexico for winter.

In 2023, the global community got out their bird goggles and revved their counting engines. The U.S. clocked in with the highest number of checklists. China reported 494 different bird species. Together, the world counted 7,538 species of birds, and an eye-popping 151,479 media uploads were added to the Macaulay Library during the 4-day event.

Thousands of Baikal Teal were seen in South Korea.
(Photo by Sarah Van Ingelgom, Macaulay Library)

This year promises to be as fun-filled and educational as bird watchers flock together with their tallies. Participation is simple. Count birds on one or more days of the four-day event and report their sightings using Merlin Bird ID or eBird on mobile or computer. Anyone can take part in the count, from beginning bird watchers to experts, and you can participate from your backyard or anywhere in the world. Count birds you see or hear for 15 minutes or as long as you want.

• If you are a beginning bird admirer and new to bird identification, try using the Merlin Bird ID app to tell us what birds you are seeing or hearing.
• If you have participated in the count before and want to record numbers of birds, try the eBird Mobile app or enter your bird list on the eBird website (desktop/laptop).

Visit the official website for more information and check out the latest educational and promotional resources. On the program website, participants can explore real-time maps that show what others are reporting during and after the count.

The U.S. needs 7 million more houses, but who will build them? The construction industry needs trained laborers.

Photo by Arron Coi, Unsplash

As the construction industry struggles to meet the demand for new housing, it faces big obstacles, including a shortage of trained labor. Robbie Sequeira of Stateline reports, "The U.S. construction industry lost nearly 30% of its workforce during the Great Recession of 2008 and had barely recovered before the Covid-19 pandemic hit it again, as outlined by a study shared last spring by economists at the University of Utah and the University of Wisconsin. . . . However, the authors attributed much of the shortage to the federal Secure Communities immigration crackdown of the Obama administration."

An estimated 7 million more homes are needed, so the industry must find more trained workers to meet demand. "Employment isn't growing fast enough, said Erika Walter, director of media relations for Associated Builders and Contractors, a national industry group," Sequiera writes. "An analysis released earlier this month by the group found that at the end of November, there were about 459,000 job openings in the industry. The 5.4% job opening rate was the highest since 2000."

To attract new labor, the industry needs to address its hiring practices. Sequeira reports, "According to a 2022 Department of Labor report, many apprentice programs for construction and trade-based skills often have sponsors who do not recruit or hire individuals from underrepresented groups — and may not even be aware of how to recruit members of those groups."

If recruitment and training shortages aren't managed, the shortage will intensify as aging workers retire. Sequiera notes, "More than 1 in 5 construction workers are 55 and older, and much of the workforce will be retiring in the coming decade, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics." Karl Eckhart, vice president of intergovernmental affairs for the National Association of Home Builders, told Sequiera, "We need to expedite the [recruitment and training] process so we can at least get shovels under the ground."

Several states are intervening to assist in training a new construction workforce, including Montana, New York, Ohio and Maryland. "Ohio Republican Gov. Mike DeWine announced that 35 Ohio high school programs would receive almost $200 million in grant money to expand training facilities in areas including the electrical trades, welding and carpentry," Sequiera reports. 

Health advocates use produce 'prescriptions' to treat diet-related problems; funding can be a barrier

Nutritionist Shelby Ballinger teaches cooking classes
for Delta Produce RX participants. (RHIhub photo)

Community health advocates in pockets across the U.S. are helping rural community members access fresh produce with healthy food "prescriptions," which treat diet-related health problems.

In Leland, Mississippi, a program called Delta Produce RX serves more than "100 patients of Leland Medical Clinic who receive a monthly $80 credit reserved for the purchase of fresh produce at the Leland Stop N Shop," reports Brendan Stermer of Rural Health Information Hub. "The program is reserved for low-income individuals who suffer from diet-related chronic health conditions. Participants also attend cooking classes, meet with a nutritionist, and receive a membership to the local wellness center."

Leland's program began in 2020 and is run by Delta Health Alliance, a nonprofit healthcare and social service organization, and administered through grant dollars. Shelby Ballinger, a Delta Produce RX program manager and a nutritionist, told Stermer, "It kind of exploded. Word of mouth has gotten around our community, so I get a lot of calls from patients and community members who are interested in the program."

While some might say giving food to address diet-related problems is common sense, it has not been the norm. But the idea is gaining momentum. "According to a 2021 report commissioned by the nonprofit Wholesome Wave, 108 new 'produce prescription' programs launched in the U.S. between 2010 and 2020," Stermer writes. The Wholesome Wave report also "noted an 'unequal distribution of programs,' with the model experiencing 'strong growth on the coasts and within Midwestern urban cities.' Produce prescription programs are still uncommon in rural areas like the Mississippi Delta, where rates of food insecurity and diet-related disease are the highest."

As more programs have opened, more studies show the health benefits and cost savings they offer. Stermer reports, "New research from Tufts University supports the model's effectiveness at improving food security and various health metrics associated with diet-related disease. According to another recent Tufts University study, widespread implementation could facilitate long-term healthcare cost savings of $39.6 billion over 25 years."

Despite the concept's success, funding remains uncertain. Melissa Akers, manager of the Food Policy, Health, and Hunger Research Program at the University of California San Francisco Center for Vulnerable Populations, told Stermer, "Sustainable funding is still tricky." Stermer adds, "Akers [has] interviewed over a dozen 'key informants' working with rural produce prescription programs across the country. Funding came up frequently as the most significant barrier to program growth."

For more on starting a produce RX, Akers co-authored the Rural Produce Prescription Toolkit, which offers nuts and bolts for funding, launching and sustaining a rural produce-for-health program in your town.

Opinion: Great Basin Desert residents, advocates and researchers face a 'terrible dilemma' about its future

Wikipedia map

Peaks, valleys, salty dry lakes and rolling stretches of sagebrush have long-defined Great Basin Desert habitats that used to brim with biodiversity. "Sagebrush now covers only half the territory it did before European settlers arrived with their livestock in the 1800s. Exotic annual grasses, including cheatgrass, have increased eight-fold here since 1990, accelerating the fire cycle, outcompeting native plants and decreasing the available forage for grazers, wild and domestic," writes Stephen Tremble in his opinion essay for Writers of the Range.

Great Basin residents and researchers face an impossible choice. "The dilemma is this: Saving sagebrush puts the aromatic shrublands at odds with piñon-juniper woodland — a landscape just as beloved, just as vital," Trimble explains. "Range ecologists believe that growing the sagebrush core means that half of the Great Basin woodlands need 'treatment' —removing younger stands of trees while retaining old growth forest."

Pygmy rabbits thrive in sagebrush.
(Wash. Fish & Wildlife photo)

Before 1860, "two-thirds of Great Basin landscapes in woodland habitat were treeless. Today, less than one-third is treeless, as trees decrease the acreage and vitality of sagebrush," Trimble adds. "But it's unclear if sagebrush animals will soon repopulate cleared habitat. No more than half of tree treatments result in the regrowth of native grasses. Meanwhile, flocks of Pinyon Jays that depend on the trees suffer steep declines."

Trimble asks: "Which matters most? To sage grouse, pygmy rabbits and piñon mice? To backcountry recreationists, to cattlemen? To Indigenous Great Basin Washoe, Paiute and Shoshone people — citizens of what ethnobotanist Gary Nabhan calls 'Piñon Nut Nation?'"

This Pinyon Jay snags a nut from a Pinyon pine.
(Photo by Marie Read via ABC)

As human choices and climate change fundamentally alter the Great Basin, "federal managers need to address causes, not symptoms. Their challenge is huge: to confront invading cheatgrass and junipers and reverse the decline of sagebrush, nut harvests, native grass and birds. All this, while ensuring that mule deer and cows flourish," Trimble adds. "If we want to heal the land and restore the balance between sagebrush and woodland, we need to treat these landscapes as we would with those we love — using every bit of wisdom from both Western and Indigenous traditions for the benefit of our collective future."

A new EPA app helps journalists who are looking for local water quality data that's easy to understand and share

Eighth graders collect samples from the Pigeon River in N.C.
(Photo by G. Peeples, FWS, Flickr Creative Commons via SEJ)

If you're a journalist who wants water quality data that's for "non-geeks. . . The Environmental Protection Agency is offering a 'How's My Waterway?' web app that makes the sophisticated stuff simple," reports Joseph A. Davis of the Society of Environmental Journalists. "If you are, indeed, a geek and want to jump ahead, you can start exploring it here. . . . This app is a portal for people who just want to know whether they can drink from or swim in their local river. It's hyperlocal and practical. It's presented graphically and intuitively."

Where did the data come from? "The good news is that the EPA answers the question. The other good news is that it comes from multiple authoritative datasets," Davis explains. "Much of that data is required by law to be collected by government agencies and is therefore fairly good. Those datasets include ATTAINS, a collection of water quality data posted by the states, and BEACON 2.0, a collection of state data about beach closings. . . . It also includes discharge permit information, as well as permit violations. And drinking water information. And, yes, more. Here's the full list."

Using the app is as easy as downloading it on your smartphone and entering your ZIP code. The app then shows a map. "Like a good pair of binoculars, it allows you to zoom in or out or to ask about water quality at the local, state, or national level. In the process of describing state and national-level water quality, it actually provides some meaningful overview analysis," Davis reports. "The data is not up-to-the-second, but it is pretty current. The time frame differs for each kind of data, which is only the beginning of the story — a launch pad for shoe-leather and phone reporting."