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Hummingbird Heaven

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Every year, some of the smallest
birds alive flock to St. Clair County

By Carol Pappas
Photos by Jerry Martin

Close your eyes a minute, and you might think you’re at LaGuardia or some other heavily traveled airport as the whir of the air traffic heads in and out.

But this isn’t LaGuardia, not by a long shot. And that whir you hear? It’s just the yearly flight of the Ruby-throated Hummingbird — hundreds of them — heading in for a good meal at a familiar St. Clair County landing strip.

From the road, there’s not much to distinguish it from other residences in this Chandler Mountain neck of the woods. But step around back, and Bill and Jody Gilliland have quite a surprise in store.

Hanging from the backyard rooftop and dangling from clothes lines are rows and rows of hummingbird feeders, enticing these tiny creatures back year after year like regular customers to a local diner at lunch rush.

And they have been back every year for more than a decade. “They’re fairly loyal if they’re breeding,” Bill Gilliland said. A lot of times, they’ll come on the same date. They’re loyal to their route.

“We just furnish the yard and the birdfeeders is basically what we do,” he said, noting that he dedicates this time of year to keeping dozens of feeders stocked on a daily basis for his winged travelers. It takes about 200 gallons of sugar water a year to feed the thousands of birds in his yard.

“I buy the sugar,” Jody Gilliland said, downplaying her role in the process. Her husband handles the rest.

The Gillilands’ place has now become a hummingbird banding training station, where trackers from across the country and as far away as South America have come to train how to band a bird smaller than a person’s little finger.

According to Brandee Moore, who is a licensed bander living on Chandler Mountain, the tiny, aluminum band with a letter and five identification numbers is slipped onto the bird after a momentary capture, and the number is registered in a computer system so that wherever they travel, their frequent flyer miles can be logged. The band on the leg corresponds to measurements, like their bill, their age and sex. The number will never be given to any other bird, so the recapture can tell the history of that particular bird.

A hummingbird bander is not all that common — only 250 in the U.S.; not much more worldwide — because the bird is so small and has to be handled differently than other birds. To be certified requires a separate designation. And that’s why the Gillilands lend their property each year as a training ground.

“They like them to band 100 birds here” to ensure that they can build speed and precision during the capture process, Gilliland said.

And tracking their travels helps those who have an interest to learn about the habits of these fascinating birds. “We probably know about 10 percent,” Gilliland said. “We have lots to learn. But we know a lot more now than we did 30 years ago.”

They first start appearing at the Gillilands each March when migration begins. The male comes first, and the females follow. In late March, they are in full breeding plumage — “iridescent green, like jewels,” Gilliland said.

Thousands will make their way there each year through the end of October. “After Nov. 1, it’s likely not the Ruby Throated Hummingbird,” but some other species, like Rufous, Gilliland said.

By mid-July, traffic starts “picking up,” and in general, they’re all gone by mid to late October.

People who see hummingbirds in their yards generally think it is the same bird over and over again. In reality, though, if a feeder is feeding five birds, it probably is really feeding 25. “There’s a lot more you don’t see. What you see in the yard is four to five times more.

“That’s what we learn from banding.”

Gilliland, a retired State of Alabama engineer, and his wife, who also retired from the state, have always had an interest in birds. They were members of the Ornithological Society and the Audubon Society. They took continuing education classes at the University of Alabama at Birmingham and even taught some through the Audubon Society.

They met Bob and Martha Sargent of Clay, Alabama, who founded The Hummer/Bird Study Group. The group is nonprofit organization founded to study and preserve hummingbirds and other Neo-tropical songbirds. And they have been heavily involved ever since.

HBSG operates banding stations in Clay and Fort Morgan, Alabama. At Fort Morgan in the spring and fall, volunteers capture and band hummingbirds and other species because this coastal area is the first landfall and the last departure point for thousands of migrating birds.

“We are in the hummingbird path, passing through from the north,” said Sargent. From the westernmost point, they come from the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta Province and southern Canada.

From the east, they come from the maritime provinces like Nova Scotia and Labrador, Sargent said. After their “nesting duties, they head south” en route to southern Mexico and northern Panama “and everywhere in between.”

They are not cold-hardy birds, so when temperatures begin their descent, they in essence, “get out of town,” Sargent said. Over land, they stream southward through the Dakotas, Oklahoma and Texas. The eastern part of the population are transgulf migrants on their way to Mexico and Central America this time of year.

He likened them to a broad river, spreading out. “They are not flocking birds. They are independent, ornery, aggressive and mean. They just don’t like each other, but it works for them. That’s the neat thing.”

And that seasonal flight is something they have been doing for uncountable generations, Sargent said, “and the hummingbirds were doing just what they do now.”

Viewer submitted photo/John and Judy Hulsey:

Features

Coming home to the Cove

By Carolyn Stern
Photos by Jerry Martin

Traveling from Pell City or Ashville to Oneonta on US 231 North, you might easily miss a road sign on the right, just after mile marker 242. It reads “Beason Cove Road.” However, if it catches your eye, and you turn, following the narrow road down a hill and across Muckelroy Creek, you enter a valley that holds an enduring history of a family and of the area.

Beason Cove Road runs along the base of Chandler Mountain, parallel to US 11 North. A number of genealogies based on recorded documents shows that a son of the original St. Clair County settler brought his family to what became known as Beason’s Cove.

Today, almost two centuries later, a family reunion is held annually on the second Sunday in June (even in 95-degree temperature). These are folks who know who their “people” were and are. The meeting place for these reunions is a small white-painted, steepled church with an adjoining cemetery where many family members are buried. The church was, and still is, known as Union Church or Beason’s Union Church.

The first structure was made of logs. It was torn down in the late 1800s and replaced with a wooden building that was destroyed by fire on the second Saturday in June 1919. The present building was constructed in 1921.

But let’s back up a bit. How and when did the Beeson/Beason family happen to settle in St. Clair County, and who first came to the Cove?

Capt. Edward Beeson, who was born in Guilford, N.C., joined the army of the Revolution in the spring of 1778. He was commissioned captain of a company of foot soldiers. In 1814, after Gen. Andrew Jackson negotiated a treaty to end the war with the Creeks, more than 20 million acres of Creek land became available to settlers. Much of it was in the area that became known as Alabama.

Beeson was one of the many people who moved their families further south to take advantage of the open land and settled in St. Clair County, between what is now Ashville and Steele.

Records show he was married three times and had nine children. He later moved to Etowah County, where he was buried in Carleton Cemetery in the Aurora community. In 1925, his grave site was moved to the Beeson/Union cemetery. His military marker is located there, as is a large memorial marker installed in recent years by his descendants.

One of his sons, Curtis Grubb Beason, who was 12 years old when he came to St. Clair County, was the one responsible for the settling of the Cove area and spreading the ownership among his children.

Curtis married Martha Clark, who was part Creek Indian. Her parents were Henry and Margaret (Lightfoot) Clark. The couple had 10 children, five girls and five boys. Eight of them eventually owned farms in Beason Cove. Curtis Grubb was an influential man of the time. He held the office of county tax assessor and collector in 1843-1844. He was state senator from St. Clair County in 1863 and a delegate to the Constitutional Convention of 1865.

Around 1840, Curtis built the two-story Beason plantation home that you can see by taking the first left turn after entering the Cove. The last of the Beasons to live in the plantation home were Miss Allie Beason and Curtis Hinton, son of Laura Beason Hinton. When both died, the house passed out of the family. The once narrow, dusty road is now known as Curt Hinton Drive (an alternate route to the Horse Pens 40 access road). Trees flanking both sides of the sparsely populated roadway produce brilliant autumn color and thoughts of days gone by.

Curtis gave the land on which the church stands to his son William Spruell Beason. William Beason and his wife, the former Juliann Dearman, gave the property to the Methodist Episcopal Church of the United States on Oct. 10, 1880. Later, the property reverted to the family. William and Juliann were the grandparents of the Doctors W.D. and R.C. Partlow, who were connected with Brice Hospital and Partlow School for a number of years.

In the past few years, Beesons have given their support to Samford University, the Birmingham Museum of Art and other causes. Alabama State Sen. Scott Beason is a descendant, and his father, Tom, is president of the Beason Family Association, which maintains the church property today. Other family members make vital contributions to education, medicine, government, agriculture, the military, religion and business.

Edith Bowlin Tucker is the great-great-great-granddaughter of Curtis Grubb Beason, and many of those who come to the reunions are “cousins” of hers.

She writes in a summary of the family’s history, “William S. Beason’s home was a big log house located just beyond the church.” Her nephew, Jerry Payne, and his wife, Janice, built a log house on the corner of Beason Cove Road and US 231 in 2001.

Jerry and Janice are the only Beasons who live in the Cove now. Their home is just a short distance from the church and cemetery. Throughout the year, Jerry takes care of the church grounds. “I feel like that’s what my mother would want me to do,” he says. “Living here gives me a real connection to our family’s story.”

But wherever the parents, grandparents and, of course, the cousins live, they are sure to continue the proud history of the Beesons/Beasons, no matter how their names are spelled.

Alabama Gold

By David Story
Photos by Jerry Martin

Without flowering plants, there would be no honey.

It’s all about the nectar, says beekeeper and self-proclaimed “bee doctor” Jimmy Carmack, who’s appeared on numerous local TV shows and radio shows promoting honeybee issues. Owner of Carmack Farms in Odenville along with others in the state, he has become quite the expert.

Many myths have surrounded honey over the centuries: unfiltered honey can be good medicine for allergies, that the body metabolizes honey differently from other sweets or that honey’s as good as gold.

State Apiarist Dennis Barclift with Alabama’s Plant Protection section is quick to point out the pros and cons for people with allergies, “The pollen in the honey can make some people with allergies sicker. Others may claim to want honey because of its antibodies, which gives resistance allergies, but all this is speculation and folklore.”

Barclift adds, “However, we do know honey’s good for you; we know it tastes good and is a ready energy source since it’s simple sugar. The sugar’s broken down by the bees, so the human body can use it immediately. That’s why many athletes drink a solution of honey and water.”

And, honey’s indeed much in demand. “I get a lot of calls in the spring looking for local, unfiltered honey,” says Carmack, who’s participated in workshops and continuing education courses at Auburn University.

So, myths aside, two facts about honey are indisputable. Whether an entrepreneur like Carmack or a hobbyist, honey production’s fun and challenging. And, whether a chef or a homemaker, cooking with honey’s nutritional.

Man’s fascination with honey began 10,000 years ago. According to retired home economics instructor Lee Cannon, author of the Southern Living Quick & Easy Cookbook, honey extraction, and not solicitation, is the world’s oldest profession. Since the dawn of time, she says, man has craved honey, coveted honey and consumed honey.

“Honey’s the world’s oldest sweetener,” she adds “There’s evidence of honey gathering on mesolithic cave paintings in Valencia, Spain. In Ancient Greece honey was the primary sweetener. And in ancient Egypt, honey was used to sweeten cakes and biscuits; Middle Eastern people used honey for embalming’ and in the Americas, the Maya used honey from bees for culinary purposes. Honey was a 16th century sweetener popular before slavery in the West Indies made sugar cane plantations a reality. Then, sugar changed the game and took the place of honey.”

People still clamor for honey today, and in order to meet the growing demand, Carmack excises honey from hives at his apiaries, keeping bees in three or four counties. “We have colonies of bees all the way up to Huntsville,” says Carmack, who has set up exhibits at fairs, Earth Day events and Farm Day for Kids at statewide schools.

“We primarily produce wildflower honey, cotton honey and occasionally kudzu honey,” continues Carmack, who has worked with the apiary at Jones Valley Urban Farm in downtown Birmingham. “Our honeys have won numerous local, state and national ribbons.”

Other popular flavors indigenous to Alabama are “clover/spring flower (peach apple, and blackberry mixtures) and tulip poplar,” Barclift says.

And Cannon goes on to say some of the honeys with which she’s most familiar are alfalfa, buckwheat and basswood, the latter of which is an ornamental shade tree producing cream-colored flowers known for their nectar.

Buddy Adamson, director of the Alabama Farmers Federation’s Bee and Honey Producers Commodity Division, says the most common honeys in Alabama are wildflower, clover, cotton, soybean and privet, an invasive plant that’s nonetheless a “fruity” source of nectar. Lighter honeys are more prevalent and come with a milder flavor.

“Honey can be as clear as water,” explains Carmack, or almost as black as coal. It can vary from practically tasteless to bold and robust. The nectar source determines the color and flavor. For example, cotton honey is very sweet but prone to crystallization. He says that when honey granulates, it hasn’t gone bad. It can be re-liquefied by heating in a pan of water, but cautions that honey should never be refrigerated. Folklore has it, he adds, crystallized honey found in the pyramids of Egypt was still edible.

Once his honey’s extracted and packaged, Carmack sells jars of Pure Alabama Honey to retailers on US 280 at Cowboys’ gas station and Whole Foods, also on US 280, which in 2007 became the first national grocery chain to open its anchor store in Alabama with an exclusive supply of Pure Alabama Honey. Carmack, who’s described by Barclift as “knowledgeable about bees and a good beekeeper,” also sells at other venues, such as Valleydale Farmers Market on Saturdays in the summer and Pell City Farmers’ market on Wednesday afternoons.

Pure Alabama Honey’s available in five sizes: 8 ounces, 12 ounces, 16 ounces, 32 ounces, and 64 ounces, but individual retailers may not carry every size. “You’d be surprised at how big a seller our 64 ounces is,” Carmack says. “There are people who really go through a lot of honey.”

Adamson explains Carmack is the exception to the rule as there are practically no commercial-sized apiaries left in the state today, as opposed to almost 70 about eight years ago. According to Adamson, costs vary from $1 per lb. on up. He says one pint of honey is about 3 lbs. and may sell for around $4 to $5.

Barclift concurs, “Honey can go up to $2 to $5 a pound.”

An early fascination for bees

“Bees always interested me as a child,” explains Carmack. “Then, as an adult I was working with a guy who was a beekeeper, and he showed me what to buy along with the book, First Lessons in Beekeeping. We went to the old Sears store in Birmingham. It had a big garden center and sold beekeeping supplies. In 1973, I ordered my first bees there from York Bee in Jessup, Ga. I was hooked. I’ve been keeping bees ever since.”

Carmack, a certified master beekeeper through the University of Georgia’s Honey Bee Program, has served as president of the Jefferson County Beekeepers Association and president of the Alabama Beekeepers Association.

“I was involved with the Alabama Farmers Federation in creating a bee and honey commodity with their organization,” he says, “and served on the Bee and Honey State Committee for nine years.”

One thing Carmack says he learned during his tenure with the committee was people often don’t realize the benefits of bees and the role they play in agriculture: “The pollination bees provide is essential to many of our state’s most valued crops.”

Adamson agrees, “Beekeeping’s indeed important from the standpoint of pollination; honey’s important secondly to pollination.”

The nectar source for Carmack’s Pure Alabama Honey bees comes from wildflowers, which include a cross section of blooms: dandelion, clover, tulip poplar, holly, blackberry, mimosas and sumac.

“Pure Alabama Honey’s raw and strained as opposed to microscopically filtered, which means it still maintains the pollen granules that are so beneficial.” When pasteurized, honey is heated to a high temperature, breaking down the vitamins, minerals, and enzymes.

Barclift notes that “pasteurized” is a bad term: “Honey’s filtered but not ‘pasteurized’, and it’s often highly filtered or strained. Straining and filtering are cleaning processes, getting bits of wax, a purification, if you will, to get out bits of pollen from the comb.”

As for the nutritional benefits of honey, Cannon explains what’s in it: “It’s about a third fructose, a third glucose, and less than a fourth water. Higher sugars and sucrose make for less than a tenth of honey’s make-up.”

With an Italian-American background, Cannon’s traditional cuisine wasn’t steeped in honey – her mother, Philomena Ferrara, didn’t really cook a lot with it, so Cannon’s first culinary experience with honey was in the form of a pancake or ableskiver from a recipe prepared by her husband Bob’s Mormon mother, Winifred Morrell Cannon. “For every Sunday supper we ate ableskiver, prepared in a special ableskiver pan, topped with homemade honey butter.”

This family tradition has been carried on by Cannon’s sister-in-law, Winnifred Cannon Jardine, a home economics graduate of Iowa State University and author of the Mormon Country Cooking (She for many years was a food critic with The Desert News in Salt Lake City.).

“Today honey has become more expensive than sugar,” says Cannon, “but I still like to put honey on toast and squash – don’t peel the squash – it’s better than butter.”

Rising From the Rubble

By Loyd McIntosh
Photos by Jerry Martin and Loyd McIntosh

On a blazing hot Saturday in mid-June, Gary Liverett drives his white pickup truck onto the property of Alpha Ranch, the ministry for young adult boys he founded more than 20 years ago. Fresh from picking up his son, Chris, a real estate agent in Colorado, from the airport in Birmingham, Liverett takes a seat under a tent that serves as a meeting place, a work space and a welcome respite from the heat of the summer sun.

It’s been almost six weeks since the deadly tornadoes of April 27 tore through this remote section of St. Clair County. In just a three-mile stretch along County Highway 22, 15 people lost their lives; none, however, at Alpha Ranch. In fact, 37 people survived the storm in one of two homes on the property, despite the loss of the entire ranch to the storm.

There are signs of progress on the ranch. For instance, the wood frame for a new shop has been erected and most of the debris has been removed, but there are still tons of reminders all around. Liverett is still in the process of making sense of all that transpired.

As fate would have it, Liverett was recuperating from a heart attack at UAB Hospital on that devastating day in April. Helplessly, Liverett could do nothing but watch the television coverage as the storm moved from Tuscaloosa County into Jefferson and, finally, into St. Clair. “The first news we saw that pinpointed the area was Channel 6, I guess, I’m not sure, but they said it was dead on Highway 22, and I knew that was us,” Liverett recalls. “My wife called and got word that nobody was injured, but that we had lost everything.”

Three days later, Liverett finally got a first-hand look at the destruction caused by the tornado. His son, Chris, and other family members had tried to prepare him with photos and news of all that had transpired. He knew, for instance, that 13 people had lost their lives in a three-mile stretch. He knew that both houses at the ranch, the barns, the shop and three cows were lost in the storm.

“I wept. I drove in …,” he pauses, unable to complete his sentence. Almost a full minute passes before he fully regains his composure and continues. “I still get emotional. As good as things are, it’s still hard to take.”

An independent and deeply spiritual man, Liverett is not one to say “why me” even when facing the prospect of starting over. While saddened at seeing everything he had worked to build over the 23 years, he believes that God is in control, and it is through his faith that he remains confident about what the future holds.

“When we heard we had lost everything but I knew that everybody was safe, I was OK. I think God just really works in ways that we can’t explain,” Liverett says. “I really felt at peace. I was just blessed because I think God allowed us to see what things are really important to us.

“I guess God gives us the ability to process things in small segments at a time. If you had to process losing it all at one time, I don’t think you could take it,” he adds.

The good news is people like Liverett and others who lost everything — including loved ones — are already beginning the process of rebuilding. The events of April 27 revealed an ample supply of generosity, independence and strength of character of people throughout the community and beyond. St. Clair County is already bouncing back.

A COMMUNITY’S RESPONSE
Within hours of the storm, volunteers from the community sprang into action looking for survivors, assisting the injured, and helping in any way they can. As the hours turned into days, more help arrived from familiar organizations, such as the Red Cross and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). And, according to Liverett and others on the scene, these agencies also brought with them top-heavy bureaucracies that sometimes made applying for and receiving help difficult.

What really made the difference was the response of the local religious community. “I know FEMA and Red Cross and all have their place, but nothing, and I can speak for a lot of people, nothing met the needs like local individuals, churches and other ministries that were just right there with volunteers,” he said. “You don’t have to fill out papers, you don’t have to wait days and days, and they had no strings attached,” says Liverett. “I’m not putting down any of these agencies, but most of them have only certain things they can do, whereas individual groups like Extreme Ministries, just right off the bat, committed to building several houses and structures in this area, and they’ve done all they can.”

Extreme Ministries, based in Pell City and founded by the Rev. Jeff Huey, specializes in mobilizing volunteers for construction-related projects. By the time mid-June rolled around, Huey had volunteers working at as many as eight sites around the county, including Ragland, where a group of adults and teenagers are working to rebuild a house for an uninsured man.

In the triple-digit temperatures, high humidity and intense thunderstorms arriving out of the clear blue, the mood on the construction site is serious but upbeat.

“One thing you see is a mighty good attitude,” says John O. Sims, a retired builder from Pell City.

At this site, there are people from churches near and far – Pell City, Moody, Trussville, even Dallas, Texas. While there is a definite spirit of community and desire to help their fellow man, most volunteers throughout the community are working primarily to serve God.

“Everybody’s doing this because they love the Lord, and they’re doing it because they feel it’s a way of serving Him. It gives you a good feeling knowing that you’re helping somebody out in trouble and doing it in God’s name,” says Sims.

“Everybody’s just willing to do whatever has got to be done and it’s all in the spirit of God. It’s just a wonderful experience,” adds Mike Caldwell, a Pell City resident and employee at the Honda plant in Lincoln. “The attitude of everybody is just ‘whatever I can do to help. We’ll get it done.’”

Fifteen-year-old resident Austin Hamer is one of dozens of young people form Moody Baptist Church spending the week doing what they can to help. A normal teenager for whom a typical summer day would be playing his guitar at home, Hamer says he’s proud to be a part of the volunteer effort.

“We’re here to help build Shoal Creek back and Ragland back. I’ve heard people who were just doubting and sounded like they were giving up,” says Hamer. “I think it’s really good that so many people have come to help out because a lot of people down here don’t have insurance, and the churches are, pretty much, the only ones doing anything around here.”

The aftermath of the storm was felt not only by the community’s people, but the animals as well. Family pets, horses, cows and other livestock that helped the rural communities devastated by the tornadoes earn a living were significantly disrupted. Not wanting to leave any life, human or animal, without help it needs, the community sprang into action.

Rhonda Johnson-Bowles, account manager and equine and wildlife specialist for Land-O-Lakes Purina, helped organize an effort to care for the area’s animals after counting her own blessings following the storm. Having lived in the Shoal Creek area for more than 25 years, she felt the need to help and volunteered her time and skills to the community. “I was blessed to be the dealer and not the one being done for,” Bowles says. “We started out just helping farmers and then on Friday, my boss sent me a truckload of feed.

“I just went door-to-door and started in Shoal Creek and if anyone that was affected had an animal I gave them a month’s worth of feed,” Bowles adds. Before long, donations of food and supplies were arriving on her doorstep from as far away as Michigan and Wisconsin. To date Land-O-Lakes Purina and other individual benefactors have donated over 58 tons of premium feed in the effort.

GIVING AND RECEIVING, AND GIVING AGAIN
Back at Alpha Ranch, Liverett is taking stock of this turn of events. For 23 years, he has been a giver. He’s given young men with nowhere to go a place to stay, given them a place to learn a trade and to take care of themselves, and given them hope. Most of all, he and his family have given them love, support and a chance to turn their lives around. Now he finds himself in an unfamiliar position but hopes to be back changing lives sooner rather than later.

“We learned a lot. I don’t like to be on the receiving end. I’d much rather be on the giving end, but I think, probably, had people not rallied behind us so much, I don’t know if I’d have the heart to start back or not,” says Liverett. “We’d worked so hard to establish the place. I’m 61 and to start over, I don’t know if I would have had it in me, but God has used those people, and I feel stronger now than I’ve ever felt.”

Even after a heart attack and the loss of his ranch, Liverett is working every day not only to rebuild Alpha Ranch but to help his neighbors that suffered so much in April. He’s donated the use of heavy equipment to others and the use of his land for meetings and even a few fundraising events. And as soon as construction on the new shop is complete, he’ll let anyone who needs to saw some wood or hammer a nail be able to use it.

“I hope my heart has gotten bigger toward helping people. Giving is not just giving when it’s comfortable or when it’s notable, but when it hurts or gives what you need,” Liverett says. “I’ve seen people do that here, and that’s really been a lesson to me.”

“We’re blessed,” Liverett adds. “We’ve had people reach out and help us, and I’m grateful for that. I really am.”

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St. Clair’s Savory Summer Produce

By Carol Pappas
Photos by Jerry Martin

The sign is like a portal to the South from spring and into the fall, beckoning one and all to come have a taste: FRESH PRODUCE, it says.

In the sweltering heat of a Southern summer, roadside stands and farmers’ markets peddle palate-pleasing delights straight from the garden.

It’s certainly no different in St. Clair County, where farms and backyard gardens — large and small — stretch from atop Chandler Mountain to the shores of the Coosa River below. Around these parts, cucumbers, okra, peas and beans with unsavory names like Rattlesnake are regular table fare, just like Silver Queen corn, eggplant, purple hull peas and yellow and zucchini squash.

Don’t forget the peppers — sweet and hot banana, green bells and even an Italian named Marconi.

Tomatoes? By far, they’re still the king. St. Clair County is home to one of the top five largest tomato crops in the country, perhaps the largest in the region. “We’re the tomato capital of the South,” said Judy Gilliland, who along with husband Hershel, raise five acres of vegetables and fruit on their Chandler Mountain Farm fit for the finest tables around.

And for dessert, Crimson Sweet watermelons are a farm favorite.

Up on Chandler Mountain is a treasure of thousands of acres of scores of varieties of tomatoes from traditional to heirloom. But there is plenty more to see along the countryside.

The Gillilands are third generation farmers on Three Oaks Farm, named for the trio of the more than century-old oaks that stand watch over their family home. Children and grandchildren, who lend a hand during planting and harvest, have become fourth and fifth generations of this branch of St. Clair County farmers.

“We grow as much as we ever need,” said Gilliland. They grow enough to sell all summer long at farmer’s markets in Trussville, Pell City, Sylacauga, Leeds and Ross Bridge, where city folks line up for their own taste of summer from early June to September.

Gilliland, a retired engineer from the state, and Mrs. Gilliland, who retired from a law firm, returned to their roots when they got the chance, moving back in 1990 from big-city life to the family farm in Steele.

Now they spend 14-hour days harvesting the fruits — and vegetables — of their labor. If you close your eyes and imagine the birth of a buffet of fresh-picked paradise, that would be the fields of Three Oaks.

The Gillilands are locally famous for their heirloom tomatoes, and Mrs. Gilliland explains the different varieties they grow as deftly as a seasoned teacher giving a history lesson. “They’re the ugly face with the great taste. That’s what you call an heirloom,” she said, noting a series of deep ridges of these oversized tomatoes with an unmistakably sweet taste.

There are Yellow Blush, a variegated variety; Brandywine, which is pink; Yellow, a milder type; and Cherokee Purple. They share a common benefit. “All heirlooms are low in acid,” she said.

Just down the road a piece, young Jake Owen lures passersby to his produce stand with a fresh cut watermelon perched atop a sign listing his family’s vegetables du jour. The flesh of the watermelon is the deepest of reds, arousing taste buds of no telling how many motorists happening by.

His family owns six acres flanking the fruit and vegetable stand — “five more across the road,” he said. He and his father handle the chores of growing and harvesting from the farm that produces enough “to feed all of us,” he said, referring to his family. Owen has been selling the farm’s produce for two years but plans to go to work on the commercial tomato farms of Chandler Mountain next year, he said of his future.

Then, he turned a moment to the past, talking about his farming lineage. “Daddy’s been growing stuff as long as he’s been living.” His grandfather grew cotton, and his “kinfolks” in Oneonta in the next county farm as well.

For Andy Kemp, who along with wife, Paula, started A&P Farms five years ago, it was the lure of land that helped them find their way to St. Clair County. Andy, who managed a parts distributorship in Memphis, Tenn., and Paula, who worked as a software developer for BellSouth, “dreamed of having our own property — acreage,” he said. “We found this, not knowing we’d farm,” pointing to field after field of fruits and vegetables nearing picking time. They own 75 acres “to the peak of the mountain,” he said, and they began growing and providing their bounty to one farmers market five years ago.

Today, they sell at seven farmer’s markets a week and supply a grocery store in Birmingham as well as Community Supported Agriculture — an outreach of East Lake United Methodist Church — to provide fresh fruits and vegetables to buyers and for charitable purposes.

“It’s a lot of work, but we enjoy it,” Kemp said. While there are plenty of vegetables readying for harvesting across his acreage, his favorite is growing fruit — 15,000 strawberry plants, 160 peach trees and four 200-foot trellises of blackberries. “We pick 150 watermelons every two to three days and 150 to 200 cantaloupes every couple of days.

Then it’s on to market in East Lake, Birmingham’s noted Pepper Place, Valleydale, Trussville, Pell City, Adamsville and Gardendale.

Between growing, picking and marketing, “It’s daylight to dark seven days a week.”

Heirlooms are A&P’s specialty, but he has plenty of the main ingredient to a good old fashioned tomato sandwich.

His crop these days is helped by a pair of high tunnels, similar to hot houses but strictly solar. The sides are rolled up during the day and let down at night, allowing Kemp to extend his growing season by four months. Planting season can begin March 1 in the tunnel instead of the traditional mid-April dates.

“I had 50 boxes (of tomatoes) in May. By May 15, we’re picking red tomatoes. I hope to have them into November.”

And there’s no waste for any of Kemp’s crop. They freeze what’s left, and over the winter, they produce jams, jellies and relish. Perhaps the T-shirt he donned said it best: “We grow it. You eat it.”

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