"When they came in here, what it was was so important, not only to the country but worldwide. It was important because the coal that was produced here, it created the war machine."Rainbow Johnson
"Benham is just a unique place, especially this time of year. Different people come from different areas on their motorcycles. They come through the area. It's noisy, but it's beautiful and I just love it."George Massey
These are the words spoken by Joe Curris' childhood friends — words, a generation later, she wants to keep alive about her hometown in the coalfields of eastern Kentucky.
Now an accomplished retired tax attorney in Lexington, Curris has served on the University of Kentucky's Board of Trustees and held plenty of other esteemed positions.
Although pleased with her accomplishments and the journey that led her from the mountains to the Bluegrass, Curris harbors the most affection for her humble coal camp heritage. The community where she grew up, tucked away in the isolated Appalachian mountains, may have been small, but it created a big impact on the world thanks to coal.
A desire to save her personal stories and others from the Benham coal camp is what drove Curris to team up with her husband Constantine, a former president of Murray State University.
Together in their retirement years, they set out on about a four-year endeavor to research Benham's history, preserve relics from the past ,and conduct oral histories. The couple treated the project like a full time job, earnestly putting in hundreds of hours of work, digging into the coal town's history to unearth its complete story.
What was excavated was more than coal.
Curris' research brought to light individual stories of struggle, perseverance, faith, and triumph — pieces of history embedded in the coal seams that went far beyond the industry. They spoke of the "essence" mountain people, their strong survival instinct and deep community bonds.
In their digging, the Currises chipped away at stories they felt were just as valuable as the black diamonds that placed Benham, Kentucky on the map.
That hard work and dedication culminated in an impressive permanent exhibit that is now on display at Benham City Hall. Dubbed "The Story of Benham," the exhibit was officially unveiled on September 16, drawing a large number of residents, former residents, and history enthusiasts excited to see one of eastern Kentucky's most iconic coal camps come to life through info panels, photographs, and artifacts.
The Currises also received help from the University of Kentucky's Louie B. Nunn Center for Oral History, which offered expertise and technology when it came to the interviewing process. Doug Boyd, historian, archivist, folklorist and the director of the Nunn Center, loaned the Currises equipment and trained them on the art of drawing compelling stories from their subjects.
What started out as a family tribute evolved into a more in- depth research project.
While delving into the Benham Credit Union's credit history to honor her father, Robert Bruce Curris, the union's first manager, as well as her mother, Pauline Parker, the determined duo realized that the complete history of Benham needed to be chronicled for the future generations.
Benham, the Little Town that International Harvester Built
Benham acquired the nickname the "Little Town That International Harvester Built." In 1911, the company's coal mining subsidiary, Wisconsin Steel, opened mining operations in the area just below Big Black Mountain — Kentucky's highest peak — to power its IH factories.
International Harvester built a model coal camp in Benham, powering construction, infrastructure, schools, health care, and entertainment.
Though the last IH coal mine in Benham closed in the 1970s, the town's leaders envisioned a preservation project meant to capitalize on the camp's history and draw in tourists.
With the coal industry in decline, former coal towns like Benham have sought to transition to tourism-based economies with arts and culture, attractions, and events. Local leaders see the strategy as one that can both preserve history and "future proof" communities.
Benham Mayor Danny Quillin sees a dichotomy at work: hold on to the past while promoting the town's future.
Jeremy Williams, who works for the University of Kentucky as Harlan County's Agriculture and Natural Resources Extension Agent, also aided the Currises in their daunting research endeavor. Williams' family has strong connections to Benham and International Harvester with his father, grandfather, and a number of uncles working for the company.
Williams has long been an International Harvester enthusiast and historian, often proclaiming that it's fitting that such an Americana company had an outsized role to play in a small town that also captured the essence of the American spirit.
Benham's story mirrors the plight of many coal towns in Appalachia, relying on mountain ingenuity to keep memories alive and visitors flowing. Yet many are turning into ghost towns, with their history disappearing.
For oral historians like Boyd, the grassroots move toward historical preservation efforts is exciting. As the years pass, the historian worries Kentucky is losing its storytellers, meaning time is of the essence when it comes to getting those memories into databases.
But the Benham exhibit needed outside resources too, in the form of funds from the Robert E. Frazier Foundation.
Those dollars helped generate the momentum needed to bring emotional stories to life for the Currises — the credit union safe room, the lights on Main Street, a grandmother's sewn lace, movies at the local theater, and the company store. All contributing to a richer, more complete tapestry of coal camp living.
All the interviews conducted by Curris for the story of Benham project, along with other oral histories of cold towns throughout the Commonwealth, can be accessed at the Louie B. Nunn Center at UK.
Curris takes a certain satisfaction knowing that she played a part in documenting her town's history for posterity. But what gave her the most joy was reliving her childhood and returning to a time and place that she thought was lost to time — when having less meant more.