Editor's Note: This story was written prior to the devastating flooding that occurred in eastern Kentucky in February. While clean-up and rebuilding efforts are underway, we urge you to verify information with individual entities in Pikeville before planning your visit.
The stories run generations deep in Pikeville, and they’re all worth hearing.
Courtesy of Pikeville, Kentucky
The Pikeville Cut-Through project was the second-largest earthmoving project in the world and has saved the town from destructive flooding.
Sometimes you get lucky. You find a town that’s mountain-cradled and rich with stories. A place that’s art-strong, history-steeped yet forward-looking and open-hearted friendly. That’s what I found in Pikeville, Kentucky.
A town with art-decorated story bears standing on street corners, two regional arts performance venues within a few blocks of one another and downtown streets crisscrossed with bistro lights. Where their version of the Hatfield-McCoy feud (Pikeville is “McCoy Territory”) is told with historical markers and a downtown walking tour. Where the longstanding University of Pikeville has an osteopathic medical school—as well as optometry, dental and nursing schools—dedicated to providing healthcare throughout eastern Kentucky and beyond.
The graves of Sarah and Randolph McCoy are in Pikeville’s Dils Cemetery.
And yes … a town that moved a mountain to save itself.
I came to Pikeville with some doubts. It was bigger than most all of the towns I’d written about … and how much more did I want to know about the Hatfield-McCoy feud, which seemed mired in general misunderstanding and cliché?
I left Pikeville a couple days later with a whole lot of admiration and a few new friends:
Reed Potter (a fifth-generation eastern Kentucky resident whose Hatfield-McCoy knowledge knows no limit);
Frank Dawahare (grandson of a Syrian coal camp pack peddler whose family established a 31-store retail clothing chain); and Rusty Justice (who has deep roots in the region’s coal mining … but now runs Bit Source, laser-focused on “the digital transformation of Appalachia”).
Pikeville experts Reed Potter, Rusty Justice and Frank Dawahare are proud of their town.
All three are eastern Kentucky historians, generous with Pikeville’s backstory as we walk the downtown.
The history of Pikeville goes back to the 18th century and includes a number of well-known personages. Daniel Boone was the first visitor of European descent, passing through in 1767 on his first Kentucky trip, returning in 1790 with Revolutionary War veteran William R. Leslie, who established the first permanent settlement in the county.
With few roads in the mountainous terrain, travel was done largely on the rivers. Pikeville was said to be the last navigable stop for steamboats heading upstream. Yellow poplar logging was the major enterprise, and Pikeville was the center of 19th-century eastern Kentucky commerce.
Then came coal.
“This is ground-zero of central Appalachia,” Rusty Justice says. “And central Appalachia was the center of coal production in the day.” Mining history comes rapid-fire, focusing on the high quality of coal coming from the coal camps around Pikeville—Jenkins and Fleming-Neon, specifically.
“Letcher and Pike counties had the best coal in the region. Consol came here in 1908, and our coal fueled the industrial centers in Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana for decades,” Reed Owens explains.
“Pikeville was the place where the coal entrepreneurs settled—we weren’t a company town,” Reed says. “But coal is our DNA … our story.”
Pikeville had an early start as an educational center with the presence of Colonel John Dils, Jr. Born in Parkersburg, West Virginia, he was educated by a former slave and was a Unionist during the Civil War. Dils came to Pikeville in 1840 and grew his personal wealth, championing education as a means of building prosperity.
Dusty Lane
Pikeville’s culture and history are shared by colorful bear statues scattered throughout town.
Dils took under his wing Perry Cline, a young orphan whose family farm had been handed to “Devil Anse” Hatfield in a lawsuit. Eventually becoming a lawyer and Pike County sheriff, Cline joined forces with John Dils to bring the Hatfield-McCoy feud into the judicial system, involving the governors of both Kentucky and West Virginia. What had seemed for many years a backwoods feud became the business of the legal/political system.
(Probably the best way to learn about the storied feud is to visit Pikeville’s Big Sandy Heritage Center Museum, boasting the largest collection of Hatfield and McCoy artifacts in the world. Or take the driving tour, which starts in downtown Pikeville and then winds through Pike County into West Virginia, Hatfield territory.)
It’s also worth the climb to visit the Dils Cemetery—Kentucky’s first integrated cemetery—to see the graves of Randolph and Sarah McCoy and daughter Roseanna.
Down the street from the Dueling Barrels Brewery and Distillery (where the crossed long-rifle logo clues you in to the Hatfield-McCoy connection) stands the Appalachian Center for the Arts, where the musical “Working” is being performed.
What plays on the stage is astonishing: The live music is flawless, the singers’ voices haunting. Flowing behind the performers are filmed interviews with Pike County workers: coal miners and hotel room cleaners, waitresses and receptionists, teachers and warehouse workers. Studs Terkel would be happy to see his book done like this, in a place like Pikeville.
Before I leave town, I have to ask Frank and Reed and Rusty the question that’s been hovering for a couple of days: What is it that they most hope for their place, as time and life flow forward?
Rusty Justice’s answer was one we all might remember:
“My hope for us is that we can diversify our economy so that people don’t have to leave here out of economic necessity, and in doing this diversification, we don’t lose our identity … Because I believe what we have in abundance here is something a large part of our country could use: our charity, tolerance, grit and good, old-fashioned common sense, all derived from our strong Christian faith tradition.”
Moving That Mountain: The Pikeville Cut-Through
We stand on the edge of the Cut-Through Overlook, high above Pikeville. Frank Dawahare points to the sheared cliffs across the valley and tells the story of the Pikeville Cut-Through project, second only to the Panama Canal as the largest earthmoving project in the world.
“This was the work of Dr. William Hambley, Pikeville’s mayor for many years,” he says. “He saw the damage caused to Pikeville in the Flood of 1957, and said, ‘Never again.’”
In November, 1973, a 14-year project began to save the city from repeated flooding. Eighteen million cubic yards of soil and rock were relocated to divert the Levisa Fork of the Big Sandy River; re-route the rail tracks; and lay a four-lane highway. Called “the eighth wonder of the world” by The New York Times, the Cut-Through project provided mountain crush material to build numerous athletic fields, trails and homes, expanding the city considerably.
It’s no small thing, what Pikeville did to save itself. And from where we stand, it’s stunningly beautiful and fully functional … vintage Pikeville.
The story above first appeared in our March / April 2025 issue. For more like it subscribe today or log in with your active BRC+ Membership. Thank you for your support!