Prescription for progress

Dr. Rock Helms continues focus
on moving health care forward

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Mackenzie Free

He’s written plenty of prescriptions in his 24 years as a physician. Perhaps none has been quite as wide-reaching as the plan Dr. Rock Helms wrote for Pell City residents outlining how he would alleviate the pain of having to drive to Birmingham to see a medical specialist.

Two years after beginning his family medical practice with Baptist Health Systems, Dr. Helms, along with Dr. Bill McClanahan and Dr. Carl Frosina, opened a new medical clinic they named Northside Medical Associates. Since their opening in 2001, the facility has grown from those three doctors to 25 primary care providers.

While the increased number of primary care providers has been helpful in keeping up with the city’s growth, what has made the clinic most impactful is their partnership with subspecialties and the access to advanced care imaging available right in Pell City. No longer does a patient have to see a doctor here, then be referred to a Birmingham doctor for further treatment by a specialist.

Formerly Northside, Complete Health is a major medical facility in Pell City

The expanded care has made a huge difference for those needing medical care in the area. “There were times as administrator for Northside that I had to stop seeing patients because there just wasn’t time to run the clinic and to see patients,” said Helms. “It was a very busy time.” The partnership sold Northside to Complete Health in 2020, allowing Helms to return to his patients.

Long-time patient and Pell City attorney John Rea appreciates Helms’ dedication and the vision he had in expanding the community’s healthcare options. “His vision has been transformative for the Pell City area,” says Rea. “He and the others grew a medical operation from a small primary care practice to now becoming a partner with other specialties. Now we can just go down the road to see a cardiologist or other specialist. It’s remarkable.”

Helms has been a part of the community since his parents, Ron and Joanne Helms, moved the family to Pell City when Rock was in second grade.

He graduated from Pell City High School in 1988 and graduated from the University of Alabama. He earned his medical degree from the University of South Alabama. After a residency at the University of Alabama, Dr. Helms returned to Pell City to his extended family. “If I hadn’t,” he jokes, “they probably would have disowned me.”

Helms and his wife, Jennifer, are the parents of seven children, four of whom are adopted. They also have two grandchildren. Family is very important to him, so he makes a point to take time off to spend with them. He is very close to his parents, who still live in Pell City, and to his mother-in-law, Sarah Rhodes, also from Pell City.

While his parents inspired him in many ways, Helms’ inspiration in the medical field was and continues to be Dr. Bill McClanahan. “He inspired me to become a doctor and remains my mentor to this day,” says Helms.

Helms describes himself as a “country doctor.” Living in a smaller town affords him the opportunity to really get to know his patients and to serve the community where he grew up. “The people in Pell City are the people who made me who I am today. I enjoy knowing my patients as completely as I can,” says Helms. “It’s a more personal relationship.”

“I know him as my doctor and as a client,” says Rea. “But I also consider him a friend. I think his strongest attribute as my physician is his willingness to take the time to listen to me.”

“Listening,” Helms agrees, “is an important part of the job, if you do it right.” Recently, he listened as a terminally ill patient confided that she did not have family to guide her through her end-of-life decision-making. “I was able to help guide her through parts of that process,” he said. “Being able to help people through life-altering events is a gift.”

Helms’ patients include many of the people he grew up with, including former teachers and classmates. “One patient I see I went to college with,” Helms says with a smile. “I still aggravate him about cheating us out of money at poker in college!”

“I think practicing medicine in your community makes you do a better job as a physician,” admits Helms. “When you’re serving the community you grew up in, and are still a part of, you know you’re going to give everything. You go the extra mile for people you are close to. I think it conditions you to try harder and makes you a better doctor.”

Dr. Rock Helms and local attorney John Rea

Lizzie Jones is one of those patients Helms credits with making him a better doctor. He looks forward to catching up with her during her appointment. “She comes with Fred, her husband of 63 years. She was a dedicated professional cook for 30 years at the nursing home in Cook Springs. She comes to her appointments dressed for church, complete with a fancy hat,” Helms says. “The whole office staff looks forward to her visits and her beautiful, warm smile. She always has a wonderful attitude, no matter what adversity she has faced.”

It’s a very gratifying job, Helms says, unlike some other jobs he has had. “I’ve worked in the corporate world, where you don’t always get that,” he says. He recalls being on call one night and receiving a call while eating dinner with his family. “An emergency room doctor calls me about help with a patient. I started to have him transfer her to Birmingham, but instead, I went in to see her. She had had a heart attack. I sent her by helicopter to Birmingham and she made it through. I got to see her for her six-month checkup, and she established me as her primary doctor. She’s been my patient ever since.”

When he’s not working at the clinic or hanging out with family in Pell City, he can be found on his bulldozer or tractor or hunting on his land in Lowndes County in South Alabama. “It’s where I go to de-stress. It’s definitely in the country,” Helms says. “You have to drive 17 miles for a bag of ice!”

Rea sums up Helms’ success as a combination of personality and commitment to both community and patient care. “He could have gone anywhere to practice medicine and probably had an easier path than the one he chose. But at his core is that commitment to community.” Pell City has benefited from that commitment to expanding the medical options locally.

Helms says his second-choice career was meteorology. Fortunately for the St. Clair County area, his first choice seems to be working out just fine.

Those who came before

Searching for treasures in our past

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Richard Rybka
Submitted photos

“It’s like finding a box of buried jewels,” says Tom Mottlau, describing the hunt that has become his happy obsession. He’s spent countless hours over the past three years researching his genealogy. For him, each discovery is a treasured connection to his family tree.

For Mottlau, it all started when he found himself cooped up at home during the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic lockdown. An executive with LG Electronics, Mottlau typically spent most of his time flying internationally, but suddenly found himself grounded at home with loads of time on his hands.

He had always been interested in history, particularly his own family history. With time to work on it, he subscribed to the online ancestry database, ancestry.com, and began populating his family tree with things he already knew about his genealogy.

Further research landed him in St. Clair County. Using information found on billiongraves.com and findagrave.com, he found that he had family buried at Coosa Valley Baptist Church in Cropwell. So, he headed to the cemetery, where he found the graves of two sets of great-great-great-grandparents, John James and Purlina Abbott and Samuel Patton and Margaret McClellan. Along with many others originally laid to rest at Easonville Methodist Church, their caskets were moved to the Cropwell land before the flooding of Easonville when Alabama Power impounded the Coosa River in 1964 to create Logan Martin Lake.

He’s also located many of his ancestors’ graves at Elmwood Cemetery in Birmingham and has made it his mission to replace those grave markers that were broken or missing.

T. Jones Abbott, Idora Abbott and Margaret Abbott

Locating information about ancestors can be a daunting process because America is truly a melting pot of nationalities. Going back several generations, many Americans find that, like Mottlau’s family, their ancestors immigrated from many different countries.

For him, those people came from Denmark, Ireland, Costa Rica, Portugal and Jamaica. He has discovered that some of his distant relatives worked to help build the Panama Canal. Others worked in the steel industry, which is what eventually led them to Birmingham.

Mottlau grew up in Miami, Florida, but now resides in Sugar Hill, Georgia. He has a son in school at Ole Miss, and the drive to visit him takes him over Logan Martin Lake. Each time he crosses over the water, he wonders about his ancestors who called this place their home.

On several such trips, he’s made a slight detour to Ashville, where he spent time at the St. Clair County Archives, digging deeper into information he’s found on ancestry websites. Originally an extension of the library in Ashville, the archives were moved to the current location in the former Ashville Savings Bank in 2007 and offer numerous resources for people researching their ancestry.

Archive director Robert Debter says the first step he always recommends in tracking down information on family histories is to check the heritage book for your county. “Every county has one,” he explains as he grabs a book off the shelf. “All the families that have connections to St. Clair County since it was established in 1818 are included in the St. Clair book.” These books include records on adoptions, wills, estates, as well as probate, civil and circuit court records.

After that, Debter recommends looking online in one of several ancestry databases, websites like ancestry.com, newspapers.com, or, for military records, fold3.com.

History buff and Ashville resident Billy Price has used these databases extensively to find out more about his own family. He spends at least one day a week at the archives and has learned that his family included two Revolutionary War veterans, two dozen Confederate soldiers and two Union solders.

Use of these databases on a personal computer requires a membership fee, but the St. Clair County archives and the Pell City library offer ancestry searches under their memberships for free. Patrons can get on one of the library computers and search their family histories on newspapers.com, which has information from American newspapers from as far back as the 1600s. Another available resource is familysearch.org.

“When I started fine-tuning my own family genealogy,” says Pell City Library Director Danny Stewart, “I started by asking my oldest family members to verify the stories that had been passed down. I would also search obituaries, deed records, titles and tax records.”

Mottlau has done all that. He can’t put a number on how many hours he’s spent on the computer running down leads. “My wife says I should have been a detective,” he says. “I’ve uncovered a lot, but just keep going deeper. I really want to find out enough to create an archive and make copies for all my other cousins.”

Mottlau also wants to find pictures of everyone in his direct line up to his great-great-great-grandparents. Addressing that goal, Stewart recommends regular searches on newspapers.com. As a frequent visitor to that website himself, he has recently discovered a picture of his mother’s great-uncle from 1906 that had just been digitized and uploaded to the website.

Sometimes, though, the actual story behind the picture is not the one passed down from generation to generation. Mottlau tells the story his grandmother told him about a picture of her dad. The story was that he was an attorney and was shot on the courthouse steps in Birmingham. After extensive research, Mottlau learned that his great grandfather was, indeed, shot in 1912, but not on the courthouse steps. He died in a pistol duel across the street from the courthouse, on the steps of the Stag Saloon. That information has been one of the biggest surprises to date on Mottlau’s ancestry quest.

On a recent trip to Pell City, Mottlau again stopped by the familiar grave sites at the Coosa Valley Baptist Church cemetery. He questions whether the burial plot of John James and Purlina Abbott might also include the remains of their son and daughter-in-law, John Henry and Idora Abbott, beneath a marker that simply reads “Abbott.” There are no records that he has been able to find that list the events or location of their burial site. It’s just another mystery that he continues to work to unravel.

After more than three years of searching, Mottlau has made progress, confirming some things he knew about his family and dispelling some as fiction. It’s a painstaking process, but he says finding out more about the family who are part of his past has been a labor of love. “I just really want to know the people they were,” he says.

Every now and then he finds another jewel. Some are rough and take some polishing. In the end, they are all part of his treasured past. And they’ll become part of the legacy that he will, one day, pass down to his own children.

Friday night hero

Honoring Pell City High School Coach Pete Rich

“Success is based upon a spiritual quality, a power to inspire others.”
— Vince Lombardi

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Richard Rybka

Coach Pete Rich is one successful man. He must be; he has a stadium named after him.

The reason for that honor, though, is somewhat of an anomaly. His namesake stadium is home to the Pell City High School Panthers. He never lead his Pell City football team to the most wins of any coach. He did not even serve as head coach the longest. His fame is less about statistics and more about relationships.

His biggest victories are still being realized in the lives of the young men he inspired in his 34 years of coaching high school football. And those former football players, many whom are now retired from successful careers, say Coach Rich was a powerful force in shaping them into the people they are today.

Pell City High School jerseys, jackets and other memorabilia

On a Saturday afternoon, more than 50 former players and coaches gather at the Municipal Building. They’ve come from as far away as California and New Mexico to honor their former coach and mentor on his 88th birthday. Just as they did in the lock room decades ago, the men form a huddle and Coach begins their time together by leading them in prayer.

One of those in the huddle was Alabama State Senator Lance Bell, who played nose guard from 1987 to 1989. Senator Bell read a resolution from the Alabama Legislature honoring Coach Rich for his many years of service to the people of Pell City and the astate of Alabama.

“Coach Rich was like a second father to me. He taught us about discipline and about life,” the senator remembers. He recalled a time that he suffered a significant injury to his knee during a game. “The call from Coach,” he said, “was the first phone call I received checking on me.” 

“He was a father figure for all of us,” adds former tight end Leslie Smith. “He is bigger than life. I mean, the man still lifts weights at 88 years old!” Coach Rich has had that weight room at his home since he started coaching Pell City football in 1969. And it has always been open to any of his players.

“Coach truly saved my life,” chimes in Bobby Watson, tight end and linebacker from 1975 to 1978. “He got me into weightlifting when I was 18 years old,” he tells. “That habit saved me later in life, when, in 2014, I suffered a bilateral quad rupture. I was told I’d never walk again.” Watson credits Coach Rich with teaching him the value of strength training through weightlifting. Weightlifting, rehab exercises and sheer determination, he says, helped him to regain his mobility. Not only is he walking again, he is now a strength coach and weight strength coordinator for the Trussville YMCA.

Sammy Brown, played defensive end during the ’74-’75 season and again the next year. He gets emotional talking about Coach. “He was always open to listen. I could go to his house and sit outside with him and when I left, it felt like a huge burden was lifted. He cared so much about others.” When Brown later had a wife and children of his own, he said Coach would often come to his home after his own family Christmas and share in the Brown family celebration.

A hometown boy, Pete Rich grew up in the Avondale Mill Village, played football for Pell City High School, and worked at the mill during the summers. He graduated from the University of Southern Mississippi in 1957 and immediately started coaching football, baseball and basketball at Jones Valley High School.

He started coaching at Sylacauga High School in 1961, where he stayed for eight years. He returned to Pell City as head coach in 1969. After five years as head coach, Rich stepped down from head coach to spend more time directly with his players as defensive coordinator. Rich retired from coaching in 1991, having served on the coaching staff at Pell City High School for 22 years.

In total, he coached for more than three decades.  In that time and since then, he has touched the lives of countless people, who consider him a friend and mentor.

His former players are devoted to him and, when you meet him, it’s easy to see why. When he’s involved in a conversation, he is committed to it. He does treat people as if they are the most special person in that moment. His sense of humor is part of his charm. He’ll often start a story off with “I ought not tell this …” and then chuckle as he tells it.

Former players talking with coach

Coach admits to working his boys hard, but it was second nature to him. “I made sure my kids worked hard. It was just the way I was raised,” he says. “My mama always made sure I worked hard as a kid. I remember coming home from school one day and mama said to get ready because I was about to be picked up to go out and help plow the fields.”

Although he had plenty of opportunities to advance in the world of coaching, he was committed to his community and remained with Pell City High School.

He and his wife, Gwen, raised their two children, Lori (Billingsley) and Brian, in Pell City. “We always had people around the house, either visiting my dad or using the weight room,” says Brian.  “It was like Grand Central Station, but it was good. Both Mom and Dad are great. I feel like I won the parent lottery with them!” Brian did play some football and basketball, but tennis turned out to be his best sport.

Former player Jerry Posey was not quite as lucky in his childhood experiences. His dad suffered from alcoholism and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Coach Rich, he says, was one of the first positive influences in his life. “I was from the housing project, and he was from the mill village,” said Posey. “He treated everyone the same. He was an unbelievable influence for me.”

As the lights come on and fans file into Pete Rich Stadium for Pell City home games this fall, just maybe some will think of the lessons Coach Rich taught. “Nobody’s more special than anybody else,” he said. “I’ve just always tried to make sure everybody felt equally special.” 

That’s a win any way you look at it.

Life in Pictures

Larry Krantz reflects on storied career as photographer, video editor, teacher

Story by Paul South
Photos by Graham Hadley
Submitted Photos

Captivating photography – the elegant art of light and shadow – is also about timing. The same could be said of Lawrence Krantz’s fourscore plus one years on earth.

The Logan Martin Lake resident’s life may be the most compelling you’ve never heard of, taking him from his Atlanta hometown to Hollywood and into the eye of the righteous hurricane of the Civil Rights movement. It took him to the lightning-fast advancement of technology at Apple and making photos and films with phones.

Harry Belafonte in a concert for the SCLC

He rubbed shoulders with icons – the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and legendary filmmaker Roger Corman. He snapped photos in the golden age of magazines for Life and Playboy, trained at Life and National Geographic and worked as a photojournalist for news agencies like the Associated Press and Black Star.

He chronicled national grief, photographing King’s 1968 funeral and influenced pop culture behind the scenes, as a film editor for a then-unknown chef, Alton Brown, on the upstart Food Network show, Good Eats.

Krantz, now 81, crossed paths with Henry Fonda on the MGM lot, came to know Richard Roundtree and worked on films like Sharky’s Machine and Blood of The Dragon.

When it comes to capturing light and shadow, Krantz, it seems, has seen it all.

“I’m just a guy who’s had some good opportunities,” he says. “And you know, I made something with it.”

Indeed, he did.

It all started with a box camera, a 13th birthday gift from an uncle and a chance encounter with a filmmaker at Isadore Krantz’s hardware store. As a kid, young Lawrence kept his ear tuned to the police radio. When a nearby house fire or other newsworthy event broke, the teen raced to the scene, snapping photos for The Atlanta Journal. Soon, with the Journal’s help, the teen was doing “ride alongs” with Atlanta police. He also shot local dances with his best friend.

“I was doing everything I could to make dollars so I could buy equipment,” he says. “My roots were photography, but I graduated to movies and television,” Krantz says.

Coretta Scott King, with Ralph D. Abernathy, at press conference, Atlanta, April 7, 1968

While working in his dad’s hardware store in the early 1960s, he met the photo and magazine journalist and novelist William Diehl, eventually becoming his apprentice. The two worked together for the next two decades.

Diehl authored nine novels, including Sharky’s Machine and Primal Fear, both made into films. Krantz worked with Diehl and Burt Reynolds, the star and director of Sharky’s Machine. In fact, Krantz inspired a character called “Nosh” – Yiddish for “Eat” –  in Sharky’s Machine. “Anybody that knows me knows I like to eat,” Krantz said.

“I worked on independent movies and became an editor for Bill,” Krantz recalled. “I loved it.”

But while he shared the MGM lot with Elvis and Fonda, craning his neck to look for Fonda’s Woody station wagon in its parking space, it was not glitz and glamor.

“We were there to work,” Krantz recalls. “At lunchtime, there were people who would stop by to see Bill and meet him. He garnered the notoriety.”

Still, for Krantz, it was a heady time. The pair often ate in the MGM commissary, rubbing shoulders with veteran actor James Hong, known today to a new generation of viewers for his roles in Seinfeld and The Big Bang Theory, as well as the director Roger Corman, who influenced noted directors Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, the late Peter Bogdanovich, Quentin Tarantino and Ron Howard.

Of Corman, Krantz says, “We knew Roger. He had this knack for making low-budget movies that made a lot of money. He was about making money.”

 We would buy footage from events like speedboat races but hire different actors for close-up scenes. With the help of James Hong, Diehl bought a martial arts film from Hong Kong, looking to cash in the on martial arts madness of the 1970s.

“That’s what Bill wanted to do,” Krantz recalls. “He wanted to ride on the coattails of Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon.”

The result was a Diehl film called, Return of the Dragon, an overdubbed film without Bruce Lee, but with a low budget and big box office. Call the film a mix of Shane meets martial arts.

“Bill made a lot of money on that,” Krantz says.

Diehl and Krantz first worked together in Atlanta, in the early days of Atlanta magazine, where they collaborated with the late Southern novelist and Auburn alumna, Anne Rivers Siddons.

“They were great times,” Krantz says.

 The pair’s pre-Hollywood work in the 1960s took a different path. Krantz accompanied his mentor to south Georgia for the United States Information Agency, where they photographed young civil rights workers being trained to face the crackle and spark, verbal and physical abuse they would face in the segregated South.

“It changed my life,” Krantz says.

“Bill and Dr. King took a liking to each other, and Bill volunteered our services to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. That included all of us.”

Krantz dined twice at the King home in Atlanta. And he would walk with the famous and the everyday to King’s earthly resting place.

It was a small slice of Krantz’s remarkable career. But it was nonetheless important. The memories of “Whites Only” water fountains are burned in his memory.

“Growing up in Atlanta, it was very segregated like Birmingham. (The work) changed me.”

He remembers one meal, when he asked King why he tried so hard to achieve racial equality, when eventually it was going to happen.

“He said, ‘Larry, I would like to see it in my time and not in my grandchildren’s time.’ That I remember.”

Larry and Mary Esther Krantz

Krantz has lived to see King’s dream move toward reality. “I feel very fortunate to have seen that,” he says.

Krantz and Diehl took different paths for a period, but the two would reunite in Atlanta for independent film work. He made award winning commercials at Jayan Productions with nationally known director Jimmy Collins. Later, Krantz would work for the Food Network, Turner Classic Movies and other television shows. After a four-year PBS show, Krantz joined Apple for more than a decade in the early days of digital photography and filmmaking. He still feels the excitement.

Now, even in retirement with his wife, Mary Esther, Krantz is at work, doing film editing for Dovetail Landing, a veteran residential community dedicated to transitioning veterans in Alabama located in Lincoln and for the new Museum of Pell City.

“I feel like I’ve been reawakened from my slumber. It’s exciting.” For Museum of Pell City, Krantz is helping edit interviews for its Living History program. He not only wants to celebrate the town’s past, but the present and future, training schoolchildren to become filmmakers with their seemingly ever-present Smartphone. For Krantz, there’s always another story to tell.

 And of his life in light, shadow and time, “We were learning as we were going. I didn’t learn from school. I learned being in the trenches, on the job. And everything we did had to work. I was excited by that. I’ve had a great career,” he said.

“Life gives you opportunities, and when you get them, you have to go with them.”

Celebrating Paul Manning

Crowd pays tribute to 36 years as chairman

Story and photos by Carol Pappas

It was over four decades ago when Paul Manning first answered the call for public service. As a St. Clair County commissioner and then as the governing body’s chairman, he never seemed to waver in his devotion to serving the county he calls home.

On a chilly October evening, 400 fellow citizens crowded into the St. Clair County Arena to return the favor, paying tribute to Manning’s decades of service.

At least a dozen presentations from officials from around the county and state held a common theme – Manning’s love of county and his dedication to serving it.

Former Pell City Mayor Guin Robinson welcomed the crowd, sharing his first encounters with Paul and wife, Marie, when he moved to St. Clair to take a job at Avondale Mills in Pell City. He said he was fortunate to “meet some really good people early on,” and “their friendship remains today.”

Attorney Billy Church and Realtor and developer Lyman Lovejoy shared master of ceremony duties, each expressing their appreciation for Manning’s friendship and his years of work on the county’s behalf.

A special moment centered on Roy Drinkard, the oldest living U.S. Marine veteran in Alabama, who – at 100 years old – made his way to the stage to lead the Pledge of Allegiance.

Making official presentations were Sonny Brasfield, executive director, Alabama County Commission Association; Wayne Johnson, retired Veteran’s Outreach director; his family; State Rep. Jim Hill; Commissioners Jeff Brown, Tommy Bowers, Ricky Parker and Bob Mize; Donna Wood, retired chief financial officer for the county; Logan Glass, Young Republicans of St. Clair County; and attorney Larry Ward.

Among the gifts presented were an Alabama flag flown over the state capitol, a U.S. flag flown over the nation’s capitol, a county flag flown over both courthouses, a resolution from the state House of Representatives, letters from U.S. Senator Tommy Tuberville and Emory Cox, Tuberville’s chief financial adviser and a St. Clair native, a resolution from the county commission and a portrait of Manning that will hang in the commission chambers now named in Manning’s honor.

Manning talked of his passion for the county and why he served, noting that it was his honor to do so over the many years of progress experienced by what is now one of Alabama’s fastest-growing counties.

A standing ovation answered his comments because, as Ward put it, “You can’t stand anywhere in St. Clair County and not see something that has benefitted from his service.”

Knitted Knockers

Trudy Mayoros’ knitting gives breast cancer survivors a lift

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Meghan Frondorf

Mentioning “knitted knockers” usually elicits raised eyebrows, sly grins or outright snickers from people who haven’t heard the term before. Among breast cancer survivors who are familiar with the term, it elicits smiles and sighs of relief.

Knitted knockers are soft, comfortable, handmade breast prosthetics for women who have undergone mastectomies or other breast procedures. Unlike traditional prosthetics, knitted versions are lightweight and gentle on scarred or sensitive skin.

Trudy Mayoros has never had breast cancer. But she has been knitting since she was five years old. So, when she learned about the volunteer organization that provides knitted and crocheted alternatives to expensive, heavy breast prosthetics, free of charge, she was touched. She jumped on the bandwagon immediately.

Trudy makes several knitted knockers each week.

“I’ve been doing this since 2016, when Lee Ann Clark, county extension coordinator for Alabama Cooperative Extension Services for St. Clair, held a big Pink & Teal Awareness luncheon that October and introduced people in this area to Knitted Knockers,” Trudy says. “October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and pink is its color. Teal is for ovarian cancer, and Lee Ann’s sister died of ovarian cancer. After the luncheon, some of us formed a Knitted Knockers group.”

 Initially, several women met to knit and crochet the knockers, and their inventory grew well beyond the requests received. So, they sent their inventory to Knitted Knockers headquarters in Washington state. “Currently, we knit as we receive orders and usually specifically for the size and color requested,” Trudy says.

Since its inception in 2011, Knitted Knockers has provided 1,876 handmade knockers to registered medical providers (to give to their patients), 447,871 knitted knockers total and has 4,756 groups involved in the knitting, all on a worldwide basis.

Although her monthly numbers vary now because she makes them upon request, Trudy has knitted at least five dozen pairs, as well as singles, over the past five years.She also knits and crochets about half a dozen blankets and 10-15 hats each month for other charity organizations. Topping her list are the Warm Up America Foundation, a Texas-based organization that supplies blankets, hats and scarves to the homeless; Ann’s New Life Center for Women, located in Cropwell and Leeds, which supplies blankets, booties and caps to new mothers; a couple of Native American charities and the Jimmie Hale Mission in downtown Birmingham.

“I love doing this,” she says. “It’s my thing, my mission.”

She has been a knitter since she was five, when she made a pair of socks for her father. “He was thrilled, but I can imagine what they were like,” she says, in a voice as soft as the pima cotton with which she knits the knockers, and that retains a hint of her Swiss accent.

Born in Switzerland, it makes sense that she knits European or continental fashion. In this style, the yarn is held in the left hand and a subtle movement of the left index finger is used to help the needle pick up the yarn and form a new stitch. “American style involves holding the yarn in your right hand and ‘throwing’ it over the needle to form the stitch,” she says. She uses four needles for the knockers, knitting with two, dropping one, then picking up another as she forms the triangular shape. It takes about an hour and a half to knit one knocker.

Most of her orders come from individuals who learn of her service by word of mouth or from their oncologist. When she gets an order, she tries to turn it around in one to two days. “I let them pick the color,” she says. “Beige is the most popular choice, but pink is popular, too. It’s the only time they can pick their size! Believe it or not, most of the time they go smaller (than before surgery).”

Women to whom she has given knockers often send thank-you notes, and sometimes they include a donation. In keeping with the tenets of Knitted Knockers Foundation, she doesn’t charge a cent for her work. If she gets a donation from a grateful wearer, she turns it back into more yarn.

Knitted Knockers can be colorful or simply beige.

Commercial breast prostheses usually are made of rubber and can weigh 1.5 pounds. They cost more than $100 and make women sweaty, so some just stop wearing them. Knitted knockers, on the other hand, are made from exceptionally soft cotton stuffed with PolyFiberFil,which is non-allergenic. They can be hand or machine washed and hung to dry.

“I order the yarn from a place out West, and they get the cotton from Peru,” Trudy says. “Lion Brand now has a soft yarn called Coboo approved by the Knitted Knockers organization as soft enough for the knockers. It’s a #3 weight, and Walmart is carrying it, so it is a lot less expensive than the yarn I’ve been ordering – about a third of the price.”

She has a dedicated craft room over her garage, where she keeps several WIPs (works in progress). Baby blankets and caps are stacked next to her sewing machine, finished except for weaving in the yarn ends – a dreaded task for most knitters and crocheters.

Along one wall, a stack of plastic, see-through drawers keep her yarn organized by color and weight while also storing magazines and knitting tools. A clear bag houses large foam blocks that fit together like a puzzle. She uses those for wet blocking many of her finished pieces.

Two recliners face a small television that she often watches while knitting. The crocheted antimacassars on the backs of the recliners are her own pattern. She makes up most of her patterns as she knits or crochets, and only learned to read printed ones a few years ago.

“I probably spend two to three hours a day minimum knitting, more if I’m working on special projects,” she says. “I may go up to my craft room around 1 p.m., and work until Emery (her husband) reminds me it’s time for dinner. Then after dinner, I’ll knit while we watch TV together in our family room downstairs.”

Like the dozens of hummingbirds at the feeders on her patio, Trudy can’t sit still and do nothing. Apparently, she can’t walk and do nothing, either, as evidenced by the treadmill in her craft room. She tries to walk half an hour a day at the No. 2 speed setting and works while she walks. She knits items that involve a lot of repetition and don’t require her to count stitches.

“I feel I have a gift in serving other people,” Trudy says. “When God blesses you with so much, you don’t sit on your gifts.”

Editor’s Note: For more information on the free Knitted Knockers program, including a prosthesis pattern and list of accepted yarns, see knittedknockers.org. Trudy is on their knitter list, and you can contact her through their website.