"You can tell McClanahan feels something when he writes and when he lives. He wants you to feel something too."--The Huffington Post I walked up to the side of the mountain like I used to do when I was a little boy. I looked out over Rainelle and watched it shine. The coal trucks and the logging trucks were still gunning it through town. They were still clear cutting the mountains and cutting the coal from the ground. Then I heard my mother...