I.

We’re well into our interview when Governor Steve Beshear entered the room.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his smile bright.

Everyone in the stuffy conference room stood to attention but me; given the logistics of where I’d been seated, my chair would’ve blocked his Governorship’s access to Ashley Judd (a big no-no).  Handshakes were exchanged, and the Governor was introduced to the other celebrity in the room, Mr. Karl “Buckshot”, a disabled ex-coal miner whose nine-month stint in the mines (Before they started blowing them up) ended when three tons of Eastern Kentucky sediment came crashing down on him.

Beshear and Judd chatted for a bit - green jobs in Kentucky; crafting a follow-up to the recent Diane Sawyer-hosted 20/20, which spotlighted the state of Appalachia - until the Governor makes to leave.

This is when another reporter* asked Beshear about his interest in Eastern Kentucky shortly after beshear said he hadn’t watched the episode of 20/20, but planned to.

“We’ve always had an interest in Eastern Kentucky,” Beshear responded.

Mr. Buckshot, still standing, shook his head.  “It’s not happening, Governor.”

II.

Like Ms. Judd, Mr. Buckshot traveled to Frankfort to participate in the I ❤ Mountains Day march/rally held upon the state capitol steps where, just an hour prior to our meeting, some eight-hundred banner-wielding environmental advocates, legislators, Silas House, and the odd hippie gathered to dredge the plight of communities devastated by mountain top removal mining into the light of day once more.

The event in large part served as a vehicle to garner public support for the so-called Stream Saver Bill,  a perpetually ignored piece of legislation that would prohibit the dumping of mining wastes into the state’s headwater streams - the vast majority of which were declared to be unfit for “primary contact recreation” (i.e. swimming) by a 2008 report administered via the Federal Clean Water Act and/or are summarily decimated by the aforementioned dumping.

Although the tone of the rally oscillated from righteous populist demagoguery (Kentuckians for the Commonwealth’s Randy Wilson warned “if you muck about with things that are holy, it will bring destruction down upon you and your children…”) to protest cliche (chants of “We Shall Overcome”; intermittent folk band jams; wiry facial hair), the crowd’s mood nonetheless shone with  a steady optimism, which has kind of become the default mood for rallies of every rally/progressive political event I’ve attended since Obama was elected.

As seems characteristic of Frankfort these days, the place was fucking crawling with teens and twenty-somethings from KFTC; they were everywhere; throw a rock and you’ll hit one.  KFTC’ers Matt Heil and Danny Cotton of Lexington both cited a passion for the natural beauty of Kentucky’s Eastern regions as reason enough to show up.  Not to mention, of course, the added incentive of Ashley Judd.

“No, but seriously: saving the waterways is of the utmost concern,” Cotton said.  “I come up here to lobby sometimes, and I see the coal lobbyists.  They’re wearing their suits and all that, they’ve got their money, but all we’ve got are our numbers.”

Speaking of the actress/Bluegrass ambassador, Judd’s vision as delineated in her keynote speech offered both a blistering critique of the mining industry, but also a cogent and impassioned (though not entirely novel) vision to wean Kentucky off of “a 19th century fuel” in lieu of a 21st century paradigm shift toward all things green.

She harangued Big Coal for thriving off of high,energy prices amid our current economic freefall, and declared “The solution is a new economy!  A green collar economy!” to roaring applause.  She then expressed an impassioned (though not entirely novel) picture of that economy, involving the creation of solar panel manufacturing plants in those Appalachian communities hardest hit by the impact of local mining acivity.

With current technology, she said, “why can’t we build a solar panel factory in, say… Hazard?”

“It’s only right,” she continued, “that the stimulus be spent here, in Eastern Kentucky!” again to applause.

Two rally-goers who could directly benefit from such an application of President Obama’s green-themed stimulus package are Jane O’Tiernann, a farmer who resides outside of Lexington, and Russel Oliver, a resident of Hazard County.  Both are members of Footprints For Peace, a social justice group whose members walked the 25.8 miles from Lexington to the state capitol.  O’Tiernann has a vested interest in the quality of her land and its water.  For Oliver, it’s his quality of life.

“I live in the middle of it,” he said. “All you have to do is get up high enough and just look around.  It’s all a big desert now.”

III.

Back in the stuffy annex room, Mr. Buckshot spoke his quick, twang-heavy truth to power.

“I think we can do this in Kentucky, Governor.”  He lamented the state of Eastern Kentucky’s schools, it’s lack of jobs, it’s devastated culture.  He spoke about the lack of opportunity endemic to areas like his native Harlan County.

Truth be told, I had trouble understanding much of what he was saying, as the man’s obvious passion overwhelmed his capacity for eloquence.  All the while Beshear stood right behind me, listening.  The room felt very still, as the gravity of Judd’s presence suddenly seemed to lessen, if only for a little while, whenever this man spoke.

“We’re just excited about the stimulus,” he told the Governor, adding that the region isn’t looking for a handout, just some help to get on the right track.

“Don’t forget us up in the mountains,” he said.

Beshear, to his credit, said he wouldn’t.

*Who shall remain nameless, but whose subsequent article of the intimate interview made no mention whatsoever of Mr. Buckshot and instead fawned over Ms. Judd in a rather unabashed manner, asking about her stay at the governor’s mansion and informing her that she looked lovely, FYI.