In 1946, in the rugged hills of Bradshaw, McDowell County, West Virginia, Clabe Hicks and his family carved out a life defined by hardship, resilience, and quiet triumphs. Clabe, a coal miner, lived with his wife and eight children—ten people in total—in a modest four-room house provided by the Southern Coal Corporation. The home, though a roof over their heads, was far from a sanctuary. At just $11 a month in rent, it was affordable, but it came with a cost that wasn’t measured in dollars: a tar paper roof that leaked with every rain or snowfall, walls that barely held back the elements, and a structure that demanded constant upkeep to remain livable.
Life in McDowell County, deep in the heart of Appalachia’s coal country, was unforgiving. The coal industry powered America’s growth, fueling factories and homes across the nation, but for families like the Hicks, it meant long hours underground for Clabe and a daily struggle to make ends meet at home. The Southern Coal Corporation, like many mining companies of the era, provided minimal support for its workers’ housing. The Hicks family’s home was a stark reflection of this neglect—small, poorly constructed, and ill-equipped to handle the harsh West Virginia weather. Rain seeped through the roof, snow piled up in corners, and the family faced the elements as much inside as out.
Yet, the Hicks family refused to be defined solely by their circumstances. With grit and determination, they took matters into their own hands. Clabe and his wife, whose name history has not as prominently recorded, worked tirelessly to improve their living conditions. They installed running water and electric wiring themselves—no small feat in a time when such amenities were far from standard in rural mining communities. Mrs. Hicks, in particular, took pride in small victories: re-papering the walls to keep out drafts, adding a sink to make daily chores like cooking and cleaning for a family of ten more manageable. These were acts of defiance against the substandard conditions they were forced to endure, transforming their house into something closer to a home.
The family’s story was captured by photographer Russell Lee in 1946, whose lens documented the raw realities of life in America’s coal towns. Lee, known for his work with the Farm Security Administration, had a knack for revealing the humanity in struggle. His photographs of the Hicks family didn’t just show a leaky roof or cramped quarters—they captured the strength of a family united in the face of adversity. The images remain a powerful testament to the sacrifices of coal-mining families, whose labor underpinned the nation’s industrial might but often went unrecognized.
For the Hicks family, life was a balancing act. Clabe’s work in the mines was grueling and dangerous, with the constant threat of cave-ins, black lung, or injury. At home, Mrs. Hicks managed a household of eight children, stretching limited resources to keep everyone fed, clothed, and warm. The children, too, likely contributed to the family’s survival, whether through chores or small jobs, as was common in mining communities. Despite the odds, the family’s resourcefulness shone through. They didn’t wait for the coal company to fix their home—they rolled up their sleeves and did it themselves.
The story of the Hicks family is more than a snapshot of one household; it’s a window into the broader experience of coal-mining families in mid-20th-century America. In places like Bradshaw, communities were bound by shared struggle and mutual support, but they were also marked by systemic neglect. Company housing, often the only option for miners, was built to be cheap, not comfortable. The Southern Coal Corporation’s priorities lay in profit, not in the well-being of its workers. Families like the Hicks bore the brunt of this reality, living in homes that were little more than shacks while the coal they helped extract powered a nation’s progress.
Today, the Hicks family’s story, preserved through Russell Lee’s photography, stands as a stark reminder of the human cost of industrialization. It speaks to the resilience of ordinary people who, despite overwhelming challenges, found ways to endure and improve their lives. The leaky roof, the hand-installed wiring, the re-papered walls—these were not just fixes to a house but symbols of a family’s refusal to be broken by their circumstances. In the heart of coal country, the Hicks family’s story is a testament to the strength of the human spirit, shining through even the darkest of times.
