February 2026

Steve and Debbie Terrill pose together for a photo.

There’s an idealistic nature about rural and small-town Ohio. People know their neighbors, they support their community, and they take care of each other when families face tough times. On its surface, it’s like Mayberry — but better, because it’s real.

With all of the wonderful aspects of small-town life in Ohio, however, there are challenges, and right now, one of the toughest of those is a growing struggle with mental health problems.

On Tuesday, May 8, Ohio opens the polls for registered voters to exercise the privilege of free selection in party primaries; to make your voice heard on statewide issues; and to cast your ballot regarding local matters.

In 2016, rural America played a historic part in our national election — 500,000 more rural voters went to the polls than in 2012. This year, we hope to accelerate that momentum by encouraging each of you to join 42 million electric cooperative members across the nation to remind our elected officials that rural issues matter.

A man measures a window while another records the measurements.

Last month, I offered tips on how to hire a good contractor, but it’s smart to realize that contractors need to be managed after the hiring is complete.

First, clear communication is critical, because a renovation that includes energy efficiency improvements comes with extra challenges. Identifying a single point of contact will help avoid confusion, conflicts, and cost overruns.

Chris Landers, top right, and his mother, Mary, bottom center, with his siblings and father last May. Landers, a lineman from Oklahoma, was killed on the job in 2017. (Photo courtesy of Mary Allison)

“I’m just waiting for him to come in the door going, ‘Got ya, mom.’ He was good at playing jokes on us all — but I know he’s not actually coming. It’s like a nightmare.”

Mary Allison speaks through teary eyes about her son, Chris Landers. She was on vacation with her daughter last September when she got the call that Chris, a 41-year-old lineman from Cordell, Oklahoma, had been killed on the job — electrocuted after leaning into a power line he thought had been disconnected for repair.

A man points to a part of the museum.

On August 4, 1879, before the sun rose over the craggy mountains in western West Virginia, the oil boomtown of Volcano turned into a “lake of fire.” By the time the blaze died, Volcano was almost gone. The post office, opera hall, bowling alley, saloons, and all but a few buildings had been reduced to ash.

The fire didn’t end Volcano’s existence right away, as a few remained to continue oil production, but what had been a bustling burg was on an irreversible path to becoming the ghost town that it is today.

Barry Wisniewski smiles as he gives a safety demonstration to a young attendee.

Being a lineman is more than a profession; it’s a description of self, according to these men who have more than just their jobs in common — they share a wealth of stories, a knack for troubleshooting, and an often unspoken but consistently unshakeable dedication.