Nestled between towering horseshoe-shaped mountains to the north, east, and south, the quaint community of Vulcan, West Virginia finds itself isolated from its neighbors. If it weren’t for the discovery of coal in the surrounding area, this land may have remained untouched and uninhabited.

In the early days of the Twentieth Century, coal was unearthed, and a mining camp emerged, eventually growing into a bustling community. Many individuals found employment and fair wages in the nearby coal mines, sustaining Vulcan’s prosperity.

Unfortunately, by the early 1960s, the once-thriving mines that fueled the small town’s economy ran dry, abruptly halting all operations. As a result, Vulcan underwent a drastic decline, with only a handful of families choosing to remain and call it home.

Huey Perry, in his 1972 book “They’ll Cut Off Your Project,” described the challenges faced by Vulcan. He wrote about the absence of a road into the community, despite it being indicated on state maps. The only means of entry required driving up the Kentucky side and crossing a narrow swinging bridge by foot, a bridge on the verge of collapse. Perry emphasized the hardships faced by children who had to navigate this bridge to catch the school bus on the Kentucky side.

Local residents experienced additional grievances, such as having to crawl under parked railroad coal cars along the track that blocked access to the swinging bridge, the only legal path out of the town. One resident, Troy Blankenship, tragically lost part of his left leg at the age of eleven while crawling beneath a parked coal car.

Adding to their frustrations, an adjacent N & W Railroad side road passing through Vulcan was sealed off by the company, displaying “No Trespassing” signs on both ends. The N & W Railroad company argued that civilian vehicles posed a danger to the road, and opening it would jeopardize their responsibility in case of an accident. Despite efforts to persuade government leaders to address the bridge issue, no action was taken. Consequently, conditions worsened, culminating in the collapse of the bridge in 1975, leaving Vulcan trapped between the Tug Fork River and impassable mountains.

Residents resorted to illegally using the railroad-owned gravel road, which proved hazardous at times. West Virginia officials were hesitant to rebuild the bridge, citing low traffic and high costs as reasons. The election of Governor Jay Rockefeller failed to bring significant changes to the region’s economies, leading many residents to believe they were being overlooked by the state’s funding allocations.

Out of desperation and hoping to draw attention to their plight, the people of Vulcan took an unprecedented step during the height of the Cold War. They reached out to the Soviet Embassy in Washington and communist officials in East Germany, detailing their situation and seeking foreign aid. The Kremlin seized this opportunity to expose the perceived negligence of the American government, dispatching journalists to interview Vulcan’s residents and share their stories with the world. The Kremlin also seriously considered paying for the bridge to cement the propaganda victory.

The ensuing media coverage generated headlines across the country, highlighting the town’s plea for foreign assistance. Feeling embarrassed by the attention drawn to their lack of support, state officials swiftly committed $1.3 million to construct a bridge for the community. Today, the only legal access to Vulcan remains through Pike County, Kentucky, but the residents now enjoy a one-lane bridge adorned with graffiti, connecting them to the outside world.

Though Vulcan’s struggles were arduous, their determination and willingness to explore unconventional avenues ultimately resulted in a bridge that restored their connection to neighboring areas.