The Wall Street Journal - 28.10.2019

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL. Monday, October 28, 2019 |A

U.S. NEWS

A battle over Missouri’s last
abortion clinic continues this
week, as a state commission
weighs arguments in a licens-
ing dispute that could level a
blow to abortion access.
The hearing before the Ad-
ministrative Hearing Commis-
sion is the latest salvo be-
tween the Reproductive Health
Services of Planned Parent-
hood of the St. Louis Region
and the Missouri Department
of Health and Senior Services.
Citing patient safety con-
cerns, the health department
declined to renew the clinic’s
license earlier this year. After
Planned Parenthood chal-
lenged the decision in a St.
Louis Circuit Court, a federal
judge kicked the case to the
Administrative Hearing Com-
mission in June.
If the St. Louis clinic loses its
license, it would make Missouri
the first state in decades with-
out a medical abortion clinic.
The Missouri health depart-
ment has said the Planned Par-
enthood clinic failed to correct
all of the deficiencies it found
during an annual inspection in
the spring, emphasizing con-
cerns over compliance and pa-
tient safety. In documents
filed to the state commission,
the attorney general’s office
also argued against a constitu-
tional right to abortion in the
state. “The right to abortion is
not deeply rooted in Mis-
souri’s unique history and tra-
ditions,” the response, signed
by Missouri Attorney General
Eric Schmitt, said.
Lawyers representing
Planned Parenthood have ar-
gued the state “acted arbi-
trarily, capriciously, unreason-
ably, unlawfully, un-
constitutionally, and in excess
of its statutory and regulatory
authority.” They also have
characterized the licensing is-
sue as part of a string of ac-
tions by the state intended to
hinder abortion access, includ-
ing the state’s planned ban on
abortions after eight weeks of
pregnancy and a number of re-
strictions on how clinics in the
state can operate.
Administrative Hearing
Commissioner Sreenivasa Rao
Dandamudi, who was ap-
pointed by former Gov. Jay
Nixon, a Democrat, will hear
the arguments over the clinic’s
future this week. It is likely a
decision will come early next
year. He previously ruled the
clinic could operate as usual
during the monthslong waiting
period.
The hearing, which starts
Monday, is expected to draw
activists and opponents to St.
Louis. A representative with
the city’s Metropolitan Police
Department said it was aware
of the hearings, but declined
to provide further details.
Advocates from the NARAL
Pro-Choice Missouri plan to
fill the hearing room in sup-
port of Planned Parenthood,
said Mallory Schwarz, the
group’s executive director.
“There is a general atmo-
sphere of chaos in the state
around access to reproductive
health care,” she said.
The Coalition for Life St.
Louis, a religiously affiliated
group with the goal of ending
abortion in the city, will have
volunteers standing and pray-
ing outside of the abortion
clinic for 12 hours each day
next week, as part of an an-
nual awareness event.
“Being the very first abor-
tion-free state is a very impor-
tant landmark for not just
Missouri but for the entire na-
tion,” said Brian Westbrook,
the group’s director.
The heightened possibility
that the U.S. Supreme Court
could limit access to some
procedures has led states to
pull farther apart on the divi-
sive issue.
Some have enacted legisla-
tion enshrining abortion pro-
tection. Many others, includ-
ing Missouri, have taken aim
at the legality of the Supreme
Court’s 1973 Roe v. Wade deci-
sion with laws tightening
abortion access, including bar-
ring procedures after a certain
number of weeks of preg-
nancy. Almost all of the laws
targeting Roe v. Wade have
since been blocked in lower
courts. The Supreme Court re-
cently agreed to review other
types of abortion restrictions
in Louisiana.

BYJENNIFERCALFAS

Hearing

To Decide

Missouri

Clinic Fate

Part of the Blackhawk mine in Accoville, W.Va. The company will close three mines and lay off 342 miners, including George Adkins, below, mostly in Logan County.

KRISTIAN THACKER FOR THE WALL STREET JOURNAL (2)

relationships with university

gatekeepers and are concerned

about teens submitting appli-

cations riddled with false-

hoods, or at least embellish-

ments, if they can’t maintain a

close watch over the process.

They say outside counselors

can confuse students with con-

flicting or uninformed advice,

and tend to be too aggressive

in packaging students, even if

they don’t go to illegal lengths

like Mr. Singer.

“They’re urging transpar-

ency, if not outright banning

the use of outside counsel,”

Ms. Harward says.

The role school counselors

play at elite private schools

can be different from many

large public schools, where

counselors maintain a caseload

that includes general academic

advising, career guidance and

psychological support. That

leaves little time for helping fi-

nalize students’ college lists,

plan campus visits, brainstorm

essay ideas and polish prose,

say school officials and fami-

lies. Top private schools often

have just a few dozen students

for each counselor.

Douglas Burdett at the all-

boys Brunswick School in

Greenwich, Conn., says his of-

fice sends a “polite request”

that families not engage out-

side help, starting freshman

year, and he thinks most oblige

but can’t know for sure.

Trustees at a number of pri-

vate schools, particularly on

the West Coast where Mr.

Singer was based, are weigh-

ing how much more they can

crack down, say people famil-

iar with their thinking.

“These are the people who

cratic candidates’ suggestions

of phasing out coal completely

as a lethal blow in an area with

high rates of poverty and drug

addiction. Mr. Trump won 80%

of the vote in Logan County,

which, like the rest of West Vir-

ginia, has shifted solidly Re-

publican since Democrat Al

Gore won the county with 62%

of the vote in 2000.

“I’m all Trump,” said Ashley

Walls, a manager at Nu-Era

Bakery, in downtown Logan.

She said fewer people have

been buying $16 birthday cakes

since the Blackhawk layoffs

mand and weak prices for coal

used to make steel.

Bill Raney, president of the

West Virginia Coal Association,

said Mr. Trump had restored

pride to the state’s coalfields

but that companies are re-

sponding to the market. “If

you’re not getting enough

money to cover the cost of pro-

duction, you’ve got to make

some changes,” he said. “That’s

what’s occurring now.”

Blackhawk Mining said it

will close three mines and lay

off 342 miners, including Mr.

Adkins, mostly in Logan

County. Peabody Energy said

this month it would close a

coal mine in Illinois, with more

than 200 workers losing their

jobs—and more than half a

dozen U.S. coal companies have

filed for bankruptcy since last

October.

Nationally, employment at

coal mines fell to 73,969 in the

second quarter, versus just over

76,000 at the end of 2018, and

110,000 a decade ago, according

to the Labor Department.

The Trump administration

this year moved to undo

Obama-era environmental rules

on power-plant emissions, but

the change hasn’t slowed the

closure of coal-fired plants

driven by an abundance of

cheap natural gas. U.S. coal

production in 2019 is expected

to fall 10% from last year and

decline by an additional 11% in

2020, according to the Energy

Information Administration.

But that isn’t dimming Mr.

Trump’s support here, where

residents view some Demo-

were announced. “People are

scared,” she said.

Logan County, which has a

budget of about $14 million, ex-

pects to lose about 15% of the

$3 million in coal severance-tax

revenue from the Blackhawk

mine closures, officials say. But

the county’s No. 1 fiscal prob-

lem is soaring costs related to

drug-related arrests.

County commissioners had

budgeted $1.2 million this year

for payments to the regional

jail, where it costs the county

$48.25 a day to house each

prisoner. They now expect to

pay $2 million.

County prosecuting attorney

John Bennett said he and four

assistants are struggling to

keep up with cases. This year’s

arrests include about 400 felo-

nies and 3,000 misdemeanors,

the vast majority drug-related.

“We now expect the worst

and hope for the best,” said

Rosco Adkins, Logan County

administrator. He said the

county’s finances are tied most

to the coal industry, followed

by the county board of educa-

tion and the local hospital.

Officials are trying to boost

tourism, including adding miles

to a trail system used by ATV

riders and trying to attract

people to hunt and fish.

Last year, Logan County led

the state in coal employment,

with 1,459 miners. So losing

several hundred jobs will take a

toll on communities, Mr. Adkins

and other officials said.

Jack Blevins, who owns

American Mine Services in

nearby Man and has two Don-

ald Trump bobble-head dolls on

his desk from rallies he at-

tended, said recent mining lay-

offs will be “a bump in the

road” for his business. Still, he

sells fewer than half the bits

used on machines that dig coal,

compared with 2010.

Not all area residents are

pro-Trump. Joe Stanley, a re-

tired miner who lives in Wayne

County, said he believes big in-

vestments in infrastructure

from roads to high-speed inter-

net are needed to help the state.

“Coal has had its day,” he said.

Among Democratic candi-

dates, he said he likes Minne-

sota Sen. Amy Klobuchar, add-

ing: “I would vote for anybody

other than Donald Trump.”

Some coal companies are

hiring, and there are young

miners still hoping to have a

long career. Eric Hughart, 29,

started working underground

in April. He went to a job fair

this month because he worries

layoffs could hit the company

where he is now driving a coal

truck for about $16 an hour.

“I think it will pick back up.

It always does,” said Mr.

Hughart, whose father, grandfa-

ther and great-grandfather all

mined coal. He said he plans to

vote for Mr. Trump.

George Adkins, who also

backs the president for re-elec-

tion, worked 17 years under-

ground and earned about

$80,000 a year. But Missy, his

wife, said the cycle of layoffs is

mentally exhausting and that

she’s ready to move south.

“There’s lots of jobs down that

way, they say,” she said.

WHITMAN, W.Va.—George

Adkins and other miners now

spend their shifts pulling

equipment from an under-

ground coal mine before it

closes in December.

He and his wife, Missy Ad-

kins, are considering leaving

the state altogether and head-

ing to Tennessee or North Car-

olina—if they can get someone

to buy the old coal camp house

they spent years and thousands

of dollars updating in the nar-

row hollow where they live.

“Everywhere you looked it

was coal trucks. It’s whittled

down to almost nothing,” said

Mr. Adkins, 50 years old, stand-

ing in his yard next to a flower-

bed of withering mums. “It’s

only going to get worse.”

Donald Trump carried coal

communities like this one in

2016, with promises to boost

what he calls “clean, beautiful

coal.” That popularity doesn’t

seem to be waning, even as

coalfields around the country

are shedding jobs again after

an uptick in the past two years.

At the same time, Mr. Adkins

and others in Logan County

aren’t looking to next year’s

election to rescue an industry

hurt by the closure of coal-fired

power plants, and more re-

cently by slowing global de-

BYKRISMAHER

Coal Country’s Woes Intensify

Job losses take a toll in

a West Virginia region,

and residents don't

expect a political fix

hired a batting coach and

pitching coach when the kid

was in Little League—why

wouldn’t they do it for college

too?” says Jim Jump, director

of college counseling at St.

Christopher’s School in Rich-

mond, Va., and a former presi-

dent of the National Associa-

tion for College Admission

Counseling. He is wary of fami-

lies making secretive arrange-

ments with outside counselors,

keeping school officials in the

dark. Some schools maintain

lists of preferred independent

consultants, in an effort to

maintain quality control.

Some families who hire in-

dependent counselors say even

top high schools start the

guidance process too late.

Some also say schools can be

controlling, discouraging stu-

dents from applying to certain

programs in an effort to man-

age admit rates across the

class. Rebecca Joseph, a full-

time professor at California

State University, Los Angeles,

who takes on about 20 private

counseling clients a year, says

she plays a different role than

the school counselor.

“They’re the agent, and I’m

the manager,” Ms. Joseph says

of school-based counselors and

herself. While the school coun-

selor communicates directly

with colleges, Ms. Joseph says,

she makes sure families stay

relatively calm throughout the

process.

Brown Kogen hired Ms. Jo-

seph in summer 2018 as her

son, Charlie, was starting se-

nior year at Harvard-Westlake.

Harvard-Westlake doesn’t

expressly forbid independent

advisers, though a spokesman

says getting one generally isn’t

necessary. The school, where

annual tuition is nearly

$40,000, has nine deans for a

graduating class of under 300,

a ratio about 20 times better

than California as a whole.

Ms. Kogen says Charlie was

a great student and musician,

but many classmates also

looked solid on paper and the

school couldn’t endorse every-

one chasing the same dream

college. “They didn’t discour-

age us from Stanford,” she

says, “but they didn’t encour-

age.”Ms.KogensaysMs.Jo-

seph urged Charlie to consider

Stanford, showcasing his musi-

cal talent as a way to stand out.

Charlie is now a freshman

there, and Ms. Kogen says she

appreciated the help reframing

the school as a possibility, not

a long shot. “There’s nothing

wrong with a second opinion,”

she says.

At Harvard-Westlake School

in Los Angeles, families receive

a 43-page handbook on college

planning. Students meet with

their counselors, known as

deans, sophomore year to dis-

cuss course selection and ex-

tracurriculars. Spring of junior

year, they begin college coun-

seling meetings, bringing par-

ents along to some. Summer

before senior year, the school

hosts college essay-writing

workshops.

Private-school administra-

tors hope it is enough to keep

parents from looking to out-

side counselors for extra help.

“The hardest part of my job

is convincing families to trust

our process,” says Gloria Díaz

Ventura, director of college

counseling at Flintridge Prepa-

ratory School in La Cañada,

Calif. “Some parents need an

insurance policy to make sure

that they did everything possi-

ble to support their child.”

Tolerance for families hiring

private college consultants has

waned in the wake of the na-

tionwide college admissions

cheating scandal that led to

charges against 52 people, says

Emmi Harward, executive di-

rector of the Association of

College Counselors in Indepen-

dent Schools, a group repre-

senting counselors at private

schools. Independent coun-

selor William “Rick” Singer

confessed to helping clients

cheat on college entrance ex-

ams and faking athletic cre-

dentials to secure teens spots

at selective schools.

High-school counselors,

many of whom have experi-

ence working in college admis-

sions offices, carefully curate

BYMELISSAKORN

Schools Take Reins in College Counseling

Gloria Díaz Ventura of Flintridge Preparatory School in California.

JESSICA PONS FOR THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

$0 $250 $

Private Prices

Somehighschools

discouragefamiliesfrom

hiringprivatecollege

counselors,whocanchargea

premiumfortheirservices.

Range of fees charged by

independent educational

consultants, 2018

Hourly rate

Source: Independent Educational Consultants

Association

Median

$

$0 $5,000 $10,

Total consulting package

Median

$4,

‘It’s only going to

get worse,’ Mr.

Adkins said of the

local industry.