ALUM BRIDGE, W.Va. – I first met Myra Bonhage-Hale near her former home here at the first community meeting about the Mountain Valley Pipeline (MVP). She was 79 then. Her joy and love for earth, her home, and her neighbors was clearly on display. Indeed, she was the first person I interviewed that evening.

As happens sometimes, what started out as a simple exchange evolved into a deep respect and abiding love for one another. So, it saddens me to report that she passed away on July 2 at her home in White Hall, Md. She was 90. You can read her obituary here.

She called her former farm in this tiny community in western Lewis County La Paix – French for Peace. It was the inspiration of her art. Indeed, the earth itself was a canvas. Lavender was everywhere. Our oldest granddaughter, then six-years-old, ran to them first after hours of riding in a car. She exclaimed, “They’re beautiful!”

Oh my, they were. Made more so by Myra’s loving attention to every detail of her passion.

Although I knew her for only 11 years, she blessed and graced my life. She exuded joy but yet was a fierce social warrior. She was a herbalist of extraordinary talents, helping to establish the West Virginia Herb Association (WVHA) and serving as its president for a time. She also established the Lavender Fair on her farm.

The wondrous watercolors that flowed out of her hands captured the wonder and color of La Paix. Many are shown in a separate post, “The Watercolors of La Paix Farm by Myra Bonhage-Hale.” I am thankful she entrusted me with them.

The MVP drove Myra away from her peaceful homestead. She fought. Hard. She ranted at crooked politicians and menacing gas company employees. She turned up at meetings with signs and a compelling story of building a homestead over decades only to have it destroyed. Myra had much to fight for. To step out on her porch was to step into a wild yard full of color, butterflies, bees and sweet odors that can’t be found many places anymore.

She was a voice for not only herself, but for thousands of others living along pipeline routes in Appalachia and beyond.

To share a sense of who Myra was, I am sharing portions of the original articles that I wrote about her. Again, don’t miss the art of her homestead here.

We Meet

On Sept. 17, 2014, the following was the first paragraph I wrote about the MVP. Note that Myra immediately captured my attention. This is also the first chapter in my book, “Fractured Sanctuary: A Chronicle of Grassroots Activists Fighting Pipelines of Destruction in Appalachia.”

Unanswered Questions

JACKSON’S MILL, W.Va. – Myra Bonhage-Hale came to a community meeting here last evening, hoping to have her questions about the impact of fracking on her small unincorporated community of Alum Bridge answered by Consol Energy. Though she came with a handful of hand-made signs with questions on them, Bonhage-Hale left the meeting upset because the event allowed for only limited one-on-one discussions with various Consol officials and employees.

Myra Decides to Sale Her Home

It wasn’t long before I met Myra again. This time, it was at her house in early October, 2014. I had asked to follow up with her following our first encounter at Jackson’s Mill. An abridged version of the article follows. It is chapter 3 in the book.

From ‘Almost Heaven’ to ‘Almost Hell’

ALUM BRIDGE, W.Va. – Myra Bonhage-Hale, who 34 years ago found peace on her farm in the high rolling hills of western Lewis County, has put her historic property on the market. The reason? The planned development of nearly 300 fracking sites near her property. As she told the Lewis County Commission Oct. 6 in an impassioned presentation, she began, “When I came to West Virginia as a single parent to the abandoned farm now known as La Paix, I thought of it as ‘Almost Heaven.’” Later, as she concluded her remarks, she said, “As I leave West Virginia, with my 34 years of hard work and love and joy and friendship at La Paix behind me, I think of West Virginia as ‘Almost Hell.’ La Paix is for sale. La Paix means peace. I plan to take it with me. The powers that be will not let me keep it here.”

A visit to her farm the week before seemed to foreshadow her remarks. Along one of her walking paths, which has rocks with various small, polished stones embedded in them, one of the rocks was missing its stone. The missing stone said Peace.

Standing in the middle of a garden behind her home on the 110 acre farm, Bonhage-Hale offered, “This is who I am.” Then, alluding to fracking, she added, “It just seems horrible that somebody can come along and devastate this.”

Moving from her art studio, where she also stores herbal products that she makes from her gardens, out into another garden, she shared, “You could sit in the woods an hour a day for the rest of your life and see something new every day.” As if on cue, while she was talking, a number of birds high up in a nearby oak tree starting raising a ruckus. She and a neighbor, Barbara Volk, discussed the various species of birds that they could identify and speculated at what might be making them agitated. Determining it was too late in the year for snakes to be going after a nest, Bonhage-Hale speculated, “I guess they sense, too, that the peace is gone.”

Indeed, even the clamoring of the birds was disturbed by a helicopter flying overhead. “They fly over all the time,” said Bonhage-Hale. “I think they’re taking pictures. It’s very disturbing and intimidating. It is arrogance on display.”

The party moved into the living room of her home. A brief philosophical discussion was held. The prospect of moving was raised. Volk expressed understanding and Bonhage-Hale offered, “I don’t think we can stop this, but we can try.”

The next day, however, Bonhage-Hale registered her home with a real estate agent. Then, a few days later, she was at the county commission meeting, inundating them with research about the harms of fracking. She said, “I have worked hard to make La Paix – its beautiful gardens, woods, wild life, 1890 Victorian Farmhouse with attached Log Cabin (circa 1850) – what it could always be. I was able to put my blood, sweat, tears, laughter, joy, love and peace into what it is today. We have had apprentices from West Virginia colleges earn credits in Environmental Studies, apprentices from Japan, India and elsewhere, a Lavender Fair for nine years, workshops, and serene surroundings. It was designated a National Historic Landmark in 2006.”

Fight Continues

Though Myra was already working towards moving, she hardly quit the fight in West Virginia. When writing about people across the region starting to awaken to the threat posed by the MVP (and now abandoned Atlantic Coast Pipeline), I again found myself at Myra’s, where numerous fracking opponents gathered to learn from each other and discuss strategy. This is from chapter 4 in the book.

Historic Farm Site for Gathering Fracking Opponents

At Myra Bonhage-Hale’s historic herbal farm, known as La Paix (which is French for “Peace”), about a dozen folks from Lewis, Harrison, Gilmer, Uphsur and other counties joined together – many for the first time – to learn from each other about fracking. Those expert in geology, biology, botany, and water quality were joined by landowners, students and reporters. Milling about in the light mist outside or through Bonhage-Hale’s home, which is on the National Register of Historic Places, the attendees made new friends, gathered additional information, jotted down their thoughts, watched a documentary and took a walk in the woods, discussing how the quiet and solitude offered by the farm may soon be a thing of the past. Indeed, Bonhage-Hale has put the house for sale, not wanting to live with the noise, air and water pollution she is sure will accompany fracking in her remote hollow.

Moving On, Moving Out

In May 2015, as she turned 80, Myra was on the move. Though she had hoped La Paix would be her home for her entire life, it was not to be. So, to her home state of Maryland she moved, bidding farewell to her friends. It is an abridged version of chapter 11 in the book.

Breaking Ground, Breaking Hearts

ALUM BRIDGE, W.Va. – Myra Bonhage-Hale was getting hugs from people short, tall, young and old on her farm in Lewis County at her final Lavender Fair on May 9. Situated at the end of a three-mile gravel road connecting with U.S. Rt. 33 about halfway between Weston and Glenville, the remote location could not keep her admirers away. The hugs were part of the collective, extended community “goodbye” to Bonhage-Hale as she leaves the farm she has owned for 35 years to move back to her native Maryland.

At 80, Hale has made countless friends in the Mountain State. Indeed, as she was receiving yet another hug in her kitchen, she said simply, with tears in the corner of her eyes, “I’ve got so many friends.” Yet, she is moving out of the West Virginia hollow she loves so much because of the adverse impacts of the fracking industry.

The dozens of visitors gathering in this secluded hollow expressed their sadness at her departure, but assured her they understood. Nevertheless, conversations among small groups gathered under shade trees inevitably turned to the sadness people held in their hearts – not only for Myra, but also her family, her friends and, indeed, the entire state of West Virginia.

As word spread over the past several months that Bonhage-Hale was indeed moving, several of her friends asked that she have one more Lavender Fair before leaving. She agreed. She and her guests were greeted with a lovely West Virginia spring day. While the steep slopes surrounding her farm house seemingly welcome and embrace the visitor, it is the joyful nature of Bonhage-Hale that creates the atmosphere. It is common for her to use the peace sign as a greeting and close out conversations and emails with the simple word, “Joy!”

Later, when Bonhage-Hale was sitting in her kitchen, now quiet after most of the guests had left, she shared some departing thoughts about La Paix. Though the Lavender Fair was held only about 10 years of the 35 that she lived on the farm, Bonhage-Hale noted that it had been reflective of the purpose of La Paix. “The Lavender Fair is a culmination of research, friends, groups, apprentices and gardens into one great spiritual, energetic whole. This place has such magnificent energy because of the energy we’ve put into it. Also, what the earth puts into it. It works both ways.”

Pausing to think back over the 35 years, Bonhage-Hale offered, “Everyone that was here was happy. A lot of things go into the wholeness of La Paix. We’ve had wonderful apprentices, wonderful help and wonderful volunteers. People who come here appreciate the beauty of the land, the beauty of West Virginia.”

However, she concluded, “I don’t think West Virginia is being honored now by the powers that be. I’m not leaving West Virginia. It left me.”

Conclusion

As I mentioned at the beginning, many of my best friends have been made when fighting a good fight for the poor, vulnerable, disenfranchised and marginalized. Myra was vulnerable; she was in the way of the gas company. But she also was not a victim. She championed the vulnerable. Her keen wit called out injustice and hypocrisy.

Mostly, though, her smile and love of life despite personal tragedies and battling corporate greed, remained an inspiration. More than once we clinked glasses to toast a moment, each other, a friend or a small victory.

As I lift a glass in memory of my dear friend, I’ll do my best to honor her legacy – to spread the spirit of peace through all I do. That is what Myra Bonhage-Hale did. Every day.

To her family and friends, in particularly her son Bill, who has become a close friend, I extend our family’s heartfelt sympathy but also gratitude for sharing such a lovely human being with us.

© Michael M. Barrick, 2025.