‘We’ve paid our dues’: Appalachians look to new solar projects to replace old king coal — The Washington Times

HAZARD, Kentucky — Just outside this Appalachian town atop an artificially flattened mountain lies a former surface mine that once produced 3 million tons of coal a year. It will soon host one of the largest solar projects in the U.S.

The shift from carbon-based to renewable energy here in the heart of coal country reflects the hard reality of a dying livelihood — and the promise of a nascent industry, even as the Trump administration has withdrawn incentives for solar and wind energy and promoted petroleum and coal production.

The originating developer behind Hazard’s solar project, Edelen Renewables, says the 7,200-acre installation would help deliver a billion-dollar jolt of private capital investment into a region with some of the deepest generational poverty in the country.

“This community powered the industrial development of the United States for a century,” Edelen Renewables founder Adam Edelen told The Washington Times. He stood on the ridge of a hill overlooking an expanse of rolling meadows. “It could do it again.”

Hazard, the Perry County seat near the site, has a poverty rate of 32.6% and a median household income of just less than $69,000 — more than $8,000 below the national average. The unemployment rate for the state of Kentucky was 4.9% in June, compared to the U.S. rate of 4.2%

Edelen’s 80-megawatt, tri-county project, in partnership with power developer Bright Night, is expected to break ground next year. The company’s smaller Bright Mountain installation, a joint venture with energy firm Avangrid, is located in Perry County — and will be underway in a few months.

And Mr. Edelen plans to employ locals to bring the dream to fruition: 300 Appalachians for the Starfire project’s construction, and another 200 for Bright Mountain. 

One other solar project, in Martin County, has already been completed. 

The two new projects, are located in the PJM energy market jurisdiction, the largest power grid operator in America. When completed, they’ll help provide power to 13 states and the District of Columbia.

In total, Edelen’s three solar ventures in Kentucky are driving more than $1.1 billion in private capital into the state, says Mr. Edelen, a former Kentucky gubernatorial candidate. For him, it’s a multi-layered approach to reinvigorating the region.

“What that means is we organize these projects to develop them in such a way as to maximize local employment,” he said. “So it means you work with local workforce, educators and civic and business leaders to maximize local employment. We offer skills training and credentialing so people here can earn portable credentials, at our expense. It’s a big deal.”

His projects, however, are just getting in under the gun to qualify for federal tax credits. President Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill,” signed into law this summer, phases out renewable energy tax credits and repeals key elements of the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act.

Commercial solar and wind projects must begin construction by mid-2026 and be completed by the end of 2027 to qualify for the credit. After that, most incentives disappear or sharply decline.

The administration says the credit sunset will “restore market fairness” and prioritize domestic fossil fuel production.

But industry leaders and clean energy advocates warn the rollback could stall or reverse progress in hard-hit regions like Appalachia, where renewable investment had offered a rare bright spot in the post-coal economy.

“This [Big Beautiful Bill] makes absolutely no sense from the standpoint of helping to achieve American dominance and energy independence. It just … it does just the opposite,” said Anthony Smith, CEO of Secure Solar Futures (SSS) in Virginia, a solar development firm working to power schools and public institutions while building a skilled Appalachian workforce.

Solar as survival

Access to renewable energy could be the difference between poor Appalachians getting by — or not, says Dan Conant, founder of Solar Holler, a West Virginia-based solar installation company.

Founded in 2012 with the mission of making clean energy affordable for working-class families, churches, food banks and small businesses, Solar Holler has installed more than 2,500 systems. The company is vertically integrated — handling engineering, construction and financing for homes and businesses.

It’s a means of freeing residents from the leash of local utilities companies, Mr. Conant says.

“Despite what people say, it’s not ‘coal-versus-solar,’” he told The Times. “For Appalachian people, it’s utilities-companies-versus-solar.”

Utilities companies, he said, are virtual monopolies in these underserved regions, where competition is scarce. Poverty rates in some counties remain more than double the national average, and median household incomes often fall below $40,000, per multi-state data.

Meanwhile, residents in parts of central Appalachia spend more than 15% of their income on energy — more than double the national average of 6%, according to a 2023 report from the American Council for an Energy-Efficient Economy.

Advocacy group Appalachian Voices says families in many persistent‑poverty counties will spend 40 to 50% of their monthly income on utilities.

Solar then could change lives, Mr. Conant said. But under the One Big Beautiful Bill, residential solar and efficiency credits will expire at the end of 2025 with no phase-out period.

Just outside the Vicco city limits in southeastern Kentucky, some coal country residents express loyalty to Mr. Trump. But they also want solar. 

“I’d give my left foot if I could power everything through solar,” said the Trump-supporting owner of an outdoors preparedness shop next to the highway, who declined to give his name. “But it’s just so expensive. I can’t pay $30,000 to put a panel on my roof.”

Rolling back the tax credit, Mr. Conant said, makes getting help that much harder for poor Appalachians.

“We’ve just been seeing such incredible electricity inflation over the last several years, particularly in southern West Virginia,” he said. “We’ve gone from some of the lowest in the country to middle of the pack, but it’s just rising incredibly fast. It’s hard to watch. And II think we’ve paid our dues.”

In response to these complaints, a spokesperson for the Environmental Protection Agency told The Times: “With the passage of the One Big Beautiful Bill into law, EPA will work to ensure Congressional intent is fully implemented. The Trump EPA will continue to work with states, tribes, and communities to support projects that advance the agency’s core mission of protecting human health and the environment.”

The Department of Energy declined to comment.

Mr. Edelen says Appalachians have a right to be bitter about the economic state they continue to endure.

“They feel like they were taken advantage of, because they were taken advantage of,” said Mr. Edelen, who has served as the auditor of Public Accounts in Kentucky. “When you get a trillion dollars in mineral wealth exported from this area over a century, and it went to enrich Wall Street. The streets ought to be paved in gold, but instead, you got some of the worst socio-economic outcomes in America.”

A new generation

Secure Solar Futures’ apprenticeship work has been welcomed in small Appalachian coal towns. For many young people, work outside the defunct coal mines has been tough to find.

Experts chalk the issue up to lack of economic diversification — a result of coal’s economic reign in Central Appalachia and the dearth of job options it left in the wake of its collapse.

Republican politicians, including Mr. Trump, have long insisted that coal was killed by Obama-era legislation and should return at scale.

“All those plants that have been closed are going to be opened, if they’re modern enough … or they’ll be ripped down and brand new ones will be built,” Mr. Trump said at a West Virginia bill-signing ceremony in early April, surrounded by coal miners and executives. 

One Hazard resident, a former miner who now works at an auto shop, scoffed at the idea.

“Coal is dead,” said the auto worker, who requested anonymity. “We all know that, anyone who is holdin’ onto that hope is outta their mind.”

In an op-ed for Real Clear Markets this summer, Jeff Sauer, president of the public policy think tank Market Institute, argued that coal’s decline wasn’t due to punishing policy but rather global market demands.

“Coal consumption in the U.S. has been declining steadily for years — not because of a conspiracy, but … because renewable energy is becoming increasingly competitive,” Mr. Sauer wrote.

In 2024, global solar generation doubled over just three years, growing 29% and accounting for 6.9% of global electricity — making it the fastest-growing source of power worldwide, according to 2025 report data from green energy research firm Ember. Low-carbon energy (renewables and nuclear) surpassed 40% of the global electricity mix in 2024 for the first time since the 1940s.

By contrast, demand for coal is flattening. Global coal demand rose just 1.2% in 2024 and is projected to plateau through 2026 before gradually declining thereafter, data from the International Energy Agency show.

Appalachian solar advocates are paying attention and say they’re refusing to let the region be left behind in the global race for energy domination. That’s why, according to Mr. Smith, Secure Solar Futures launched Virginia’s first solar apprenticeship program in collaboration with the state Department of Labor and local school districts.

“We were invited to participate in efforts to bring solar to southwest Virginia, which we viewed as being the toughest area in Virginia to develop solar, largely because these are very remote mountain communities,” Mr. Smith said.

In Wise County, Secure Solar Futures hired high school students as solar apprentices, paying $17 an hour to help install panels on their own school buildings. They partnered with a local contractor and community colleges to provide training, tools, and a certificate in energy tech.

Since the program’s start, 19 students have gone on to full-time employment in solar or related electrical work.

“They could’ve been bagging groceries. Now they’re learning a trade,” Mr. Smith told The Times.

For Matt McFadden, a native of Wise County, Virginia, who hails from a long line of coal miners, solar became the vocation he never expected. He said his work with Secure Solar Futures allowed him to do what plenty of young Appalachians find they can’t if they want to earn a good living: stay put.

A 2025 U.S. Department of Agriculture study shows that non-metropolitan counties (which include much of Central and Northern Appalachia) lost between 10% and 20% of youth aged 15-29 each decade throughout the 1990s, 2000s and 2010s due to out-migration.

“Everybody that leaves mostly comes back, or wants to, but can’t find a job,” said Mr. McFadden, now a manager at Secure Solar Ventures. “Solar could help. No, it won’t fix everything. But we’re not getting an Amazon factory here. Whatever we do has got to start small and grow. Solar can give us that.”

Further south, in Dalton, Georgia, solar panels aren’t just getting installed — they’re being built. QCells, a South Korean solar manufacturer, has invested heavily in U.S. production, and its Appalachian Georgia facility now employs nearly 1,900 people.

Lisa Nash, the factory’s manager, said it’s changed the energy of the small town.

“Graduates weren’t interested in manufacturing,” she said. “Now they’re staying. Solar’s technical, pays well, and gives people careers. People here know it’s the future.”

And nearly half the workforce at QCells’ Dalton facility is female, thanks to the low labor intensity level required by the job.

“People are changing careers and learning new technology, gaining advanced skills,” Ms. Nash said. “We’re creating excitement around manufacturing. It’s becoming a career choice.”

From coalfields to solar farms

Appalachia’s hardscrabble terrain has long been a barrier to infrastructure. Steep mountains and hollowed-out valleys have made it costly to build roads, broadband or reliable power grids. But distributed solar, especially with battery storage and microgrid capability, offers a resilient alternative.

“It’s the first time topography has worked in our favor,” Mr. Edelen said. “We can build where we couldn’t before.”

Former mountaintop removal coal mines — now classified as “brownfields” — are ideal for solar because they’re flat, cleared, elevated and unusable for most other purposes, he said.

“You can’t build homes or factories on this land,” Mr. Edelen said. “But you can generate power.”

Once the Starfire solar plant is built and running, only a few employees will be needed to maintain the site. Edelen will compensate Perry County through a payment in lieu of taxes agreement, a deal that provides steady revenue in place of property taxes.

In areas like Martin County, where coal severance taxes once funded local budgets but have vanished, the solar project is expected to become one of the county’s largest taxpayers. He said the agreement ensures 40 years of reliable income for schools and local government.

“That’s a legacy investment,” Mr. Edelen said.

A closing window

While some developers race to qualify for credits, others brace for retrenchment. Projects like Starfire will still move forward, but future ventures in Appalachia are now more uncertain.

But Mr. Edelen said he isn’t giving up. His company is planning to break ground in more parts of coal country. Wind energy, too, is on the horizon in West Virginia, where tall mountains create strong wind pathways.

“This isn’t political to the people here,” Mr. Edelen said. “They’re not debating green versus fossil. They’re asking, ‘Do I have a job? Can I stay here?’”

And for many Appalachians, solar isn’t just about energy. It’s about the dignity of a place.

“We’ve powered the rest of the country for the last 50 years,” Mr. Conant said. “Just because the source of energy is changing doesn’t mean we should be left out now.”