161 Years of Black Loyalty Rewarded with the Eradication of DEI in “Almost Heaven,” West Virginia

By Reverend Matthew J. Watts

Slavery was abolished in West Virginia 161 years ago, on February 3, 1865.

Yet in what appears to be a bitter irony, West Virginia Emancipation Day now coincides with legislative efforts that would dismantle one of the few state structures created to address racial disparities.

Senator Patricia Rucker (R–Berkeley) has introduced SB-879. If passed and signed into law, the bill would repeal the statute establishing the Herbert Henderson Office of Minority Affairs (HHOMA), created in 2012. HHOMA was charged with coordinating government-funded programs aimed at addressing well-documented racial disparities in West Virginia. While many argue the office never fully realized its mission, its elimination signals something deeper.

SB-879 complements Governor Patrick Morrisey’s broader effort to eliminate Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives — a move that many view as a direct assault on Black West Virginians.

Black residents account for approximately 3.5 percent of West Virginia’s total population — roughly 65,000 people. Historically and presently, Black West Virginians have not posed any meaningful political, social, economic, or cultural threat to the white-controlled power structures of the state.

In fact, one could argue that from the era of chattel slavery to the uncertain present, Black West Virginians have been among the most loyal and faithful citizens of this state.

Their sacrifices are woven into the foundation of West Virginia.

Black people endured decades of slavery. They fought on the Union side during the Civil War and in every subsequent American military conflict. Formerly enslaved Black men were recruited from the South by ruthless railroad and coal barons to help build West Virginia’s industrial economy — mining coal and carving railroad tunnels through treacherous mountain terrain.

They labored under inhumane conditions.

Many died within months of entering the Hawk’s Nest Tunnel, inhaling silica dust that hardened their lungs until they suffocated. Countless workers were buried in unmarked graves. Families were often never notified. No dignified funerals. No proper memorials.

Still, despite generations of sacrifice, suspicion toward Black citizens has persisted in certain corridors of power.

That suspicion became evident in 1919 following World War I. Black servicemen returned home after serving overseas, where many had experienced greater dignity and respect than they had ever known in the Jim Crow South. Unwilling to quietly re-enter a system of racial apartheid, they faced violent backlash. Race riots erupted in more than twenty-six cities across the nation during what became known as the “Red Summer.”

Fearing unrest, the West Virginia Legislature passed a bill in 1919 establishing the West Virginia Bureau for Negro Welfare and Statistics. The Bureau was tasked with collecting and compiling data on every facet of Black life in the state. Reports were required every two years and submitted to the governor and legislature.

In effect, the state conducted a census of Black residents every two years.

One hundred and twenty-five years ago, West Virginia lawmakers passed legislation to surveil Black people. Today, a newly elected governor and legislature are working to dismantle pathways designed to create fair opportunity for Black citizens and other marginalized groups.

The pattern is hard to ignore.

After 161 years of loyalty, patriotism, labor, and sacrifice, the apparent reward is the erosion of the very mechanisms intended to address inequality.

And they call this place “Almost Heaven.”

Help us, Lord Jesus.