The Perry County Herald is a small-town newspaper that began operating five years ago in Marion, Alabama, the county seat of Perry County. The Perry County Herald was not created to fill a void in Perry County mailboxes or to provide the children of Marion jobs delivering papers – the inspiration was fueled by a call to counter the quiet social injustice that is all too common in Alabama’s poorest region.
Though Marion was already reading its own weekly newspaper, The Marion Times-Standard, one long-time member of the community decided their soft stories about old women and gardens were not enough to inform the citizens of Perry County about what was really going on. John Allan Clark, editor and publisher of the Herald, saw a need that The Marion Times-Standard was not fulfilling. That need was substantive news.
Thus The Perry County Herald was born. Clark, aided by a small team dedicated to searching for answers beneath the press releases, founded the small weekly publication as a light that would serve to illuminate the real issues facing Perry County. Issues such as the use of the “n-word” by a leader in the County Commission, Albert Turner, Jr. on his radio show; the commission meetings held in violation of sunshine laws; the threats of physical violence being thrown like punches by commissioners during public meetings. What the Herald is most known for, however, has little to do with petty-but-juicy plots of revenge and political ruin and more to do with a recent chapter in environmental racism.
In 2009, The Perry County Herald was the first publication to discover what Albert Turner, Jr. had been up to after the TVA coal ash spill in 2008. The spill at a power plant in Tennessee caused tons of black sludge to seep into the streets and backyards of the mostly white surrounding suburbs. The residents affected by the spill demanded that the potentially toxic waste be removed immediately, and, thanks to the caring leaders of Perry County, our heroic state came to the rescue. The median annual income of a Perry County resident in 2007 was slightly over $24,000. In 2010, 68.7 percent of its population was African-American, and in 2009, 31 percent of those people were considered to be living below the poverty line. Roane County, Tenn., home of the coal ash spill, boasts strikingly different statistics. The county is 2.7 percent African-American, and the annual median income is nearing $40,000. What happened here is what happened to every character you liked on The Wire: the problems of middle-class white America are placed on the too-worn shoulders of underprivileged blacks who do not donate to political campaigns and who now do not even have a newspaper to tell them what burdens are falling into their backyards.
Over 4 million tons of coal ash will soon stand as the highest point in Perry County, the mouths and noses of residents now filling with gray ash every time the wind blows. The Perry County Herald broke the story involving back room deals between county commissioners that were failing to represent the people of Perry County, a story that went on to inspire an award-winning documentary.
The Perry County Herald, in the past few years, has kept up a stable relationship with University of Alabama students seeking to get answers from the Black Belt. Where county officials held their tongues and refused to answer hard-hitting questions about life in one of America’s poorest counties, The Perry County Herald and their staff were there to engage in unclosed discourse.
Last month, the Herald went down the road that too many Black Belt businesses travel: the dusty road to financial ruin. After five years of printing, the voice that had never been given the opportunity to speak, The Perry County Herald, closed its loft office for the last time, leaving that voice now silenced.
When asked what legacy he hopes the Herald has left on Perry County, Clark said, “unfortunately the big problems remain: poverty, bitter race relations, poor infrastructure and contentious leaders unwilling to work together to fix any of that. Like the rest of the Black Belt, Perry County’s future depends on the willingness of all its people to talk honestly about the work that needs to be done to keep their community alive. We’re still not there, but we’re getting closer, and I hope the Herald contributed to it.”
Michael Patrick is a senior majoring in political science. Natalie Latta is a UA graduate and member of the Peace Corps.
