Author: admin

The WellHouse

Faith-based healing in a peaceful environment finds home in Odenville

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Submitted Photos

Anna was beyond broken. Hooked on methamphetamine and heroin, she was trying to get off drugs. She was living in Colorado, but her story started as a child in her native Estonia. That’s where her mother sold her for sex as a preschooler.

“The person who hurt me the most was my own mother,” says Anna, now 37 and living in Alabama. “She was hooked on drugs. One day when I was 5 years old, my Dad walked in on me and two men. He tried to protect me. My mom killed my dad.”

In 2020, 10,583 situations of human sex trafficking were reported to the National Human Trafficking Hotline. The number of situations involved 16,658 individual victims. Almost 81 percent of those were women. Likely 50percent or more were children. Fifty-nine of these women made their way to The WellHouse, a faith-based healing place for women who are victims of sex trafficking. Anna is one of the nearly 600women who have been through The WellHouse program since its founding in 2010.

“There is no such term as human trafficking in Russia,” Anna says. “What my mother did to me was considered normal.” After their father’s death, she and her brother were sent to an orphanage in Latvia, where they stayed eight years. “There was lots of abuse there, too, physical, emotional, sexual.” She came to the U.S. in January 1981, when a Florida pastor and his wife adopted her and her brother. “But I was damaged goods, I had no self-worth.” She moved to Colorado to work on a ranch when she was 19. She married and divorced twice and had a child by each husband. “I had really bad attachment disorder and PTSD.”

She developed conversion disorder – an emotional state that turns into physical seizures. In the middle of a Botox injection in her neck, seizures brought back the buried memories of her childhood experiences. “I got really sick physically and emotionally,” she says. “I had counseling, physical therapy. But I didn’t know how to cope, so I started using meds. I ran out of my prescription meds, started using my son’s ADHD prescriptions. Methamphetamine is pretty much the same as ADHD meds.”

Anna weighed 73 pounds and had bruises all over her body when she got herself admitted to a psychiatric hospital. “I was slowly killing myself,” she says. “My (adoptive) mom and me were looking for places for rehab, and I must have filled out an application for The WellHouse while researching online. I was in the hospital for two weeks when the rescue supervisor from WellHouse called me and said they had a bed for me.”

Anna entered The WellHouse grounds in Odenville on Nov 4, 2019. It was after sundown. Despite the darkness, she immediately felt a sense of peace. “The healing started as soon as I got on campus,” she says. “You feel safe here. It was time for me to stop running and face my demons.”

Anna graduated from WellHouse in December 2020, after receiving “lots of TLC,” and experiencing the programs the ministry offers. “They taught me self-worth, and I started growing. I learned how to cope with trauma. They teach you how to be the person you are. I found God here, too, and learned of his love. I’m still getting counseling for maintenance, but I have a job in retail, and I’m living on my own. WellHouse literally helped me heal.”

The WellHouse is a faith-based, Christ-honoring program for young women caught up in sex trafficking for whatever reason, according to board chairman Al Worthington.“We’re of the opinion that without faith there can be no major healing because the trauma is too great.”

Worthington, an area real estate developer, got involved in The WellHouse in 2013 when his wife showed him a newspaper article about a nationwide human trafficking sting in the U.S. and in Canada. The sting resulted in the arrest of 123 pimps. One of them was based in Birmingham, and three young girls under his charge were rescued.

“The article quoted the woman who founded this ministry,” Worthington says. “She had a pretty horrific youth, was trafficked at 15 through the age of 26, and ended up here in Birmingham. I called her that day and met with her the next. I told her I thought I might be able to help.”

Finding A Home

The founder began The WellHouse by taking exploited girls into her home in Tarrant City. Around 2011 or 2012, the Woman’s Missionary Union, a partner of the Southern Baptist Convention, gave her an old house in West End, where churches adopted rooms, decorated and furnished them. In 2014, WellHouse moved to Pell City, but when they eventually wanted to expand, neighbors expressed concerns about who was coming into the neighborhood, and the city asked them to leave. “We bought 63 acres in Odenville in the summer of 2016, and in 11 months built two homes and an office,” Worthington says. They now have six buildings, including a chapel and administration building.

Enter the grounds on a warm spring day, and you’ll see several large, rambling, ranch-style homes. You can feel the breeze off the pond and watch the antics of the resident gaggle of geese. Beside the pond are picnic tables and a hammock that beckons one to doze between the trees from which it is strung. Also next to the pond is a chapel – the newest building on campus. It smells of new wood inside, and its exposed ceiling beams give it a rustic feel. It’s easy to see why Anna felt at peace on the campus.

“The purpose of The WellHouse is to rescue women who have been trafficked for drugs and sex, and some from domestic abuse,” says Carolyn Potter, CEO of The WellHouse. “We built the programming around the issues they have.” These include childhood sex abuse, sex trafficking, substance abuse, a lack of basic life and social skills and a lack of education.

How It Works

The program begins with the rescue. “We get them when we can, rescue them from different sources,” Worthington says. “Some are reported by police, some call our 800 number or the National Human Trafficking Hotline. Next comes time in the Stabilization Center, an apartment set aside for this purpose in one of the campus buildings.

“This is a huge life change for these women,” Potter says. For two weeks they receive around-the-clock attention. They are seen daily by a home coordinator and director of trauma therapy, who build an individualized treatment plan for each.

Taking a holistic approach, The WellHouse treats the physical, emotional, relational and spiritual problems of these women. Physical problems, such as traumatic brain and sexual injuries, are handled first. The physical heals the fastest, while the psychological takes longer.

“It’s healing to be in a pretty place,” says Holly Bunn, chief development officer at The WellHouse. “Our buildings are new, with new furnishings, much of them donated. We have pretty, elegant decor, because these women deserve it.”

The WellHouse has an on-site medical clinic managed by UAB School of Nursing. “Their medical needs can be intense,” says Potter. “We partner with Alabama Psychiatry for those who need more. Odenville Drugs has been a great partner, too.”

When the women first arrive, they’re dealing with a lot of psychological trauma. They don’t have much self-confidence, they don’t make eye contact, and they don’t trust anyone. “That’s how trafficking works, by destroying their sense of self-worth,” Bunn says. “After a while here, they begin to believe in their own worth. They get to know themselves again, then start to accomplish things – they get their driver’s licenses, their GEDs, achieve six months of sobriety. Then they keep going on their path to success.” They can stay at the WellHouse up to three years.

Their treatment plan is divided into three phases, beginning with time living inThe Immediate Shelter (TIS). That’s where women continue to be evaluated and assessed and to get back the identification documents, such as passports and driver’s licenses, that traffickers took from them. “TIS can house 12 women,” says Bunn. “They stay there from 90 days to four months. At that point, with the help of her case manager, a woman will decide whether to remain at The WellHouse long term.”

Phase 2, or Next Steps to Freedom (NSF), involves living in another home that also houses 12 women. “There, they continue with what was started in the first phase, with a case manager and more therapy,” says Bunn. “Cases become even more individualized in this phase.”

Although most of the women at The WellHouse are between 20 and 30 years old, most haven’t finished the 10th or 11th grade, according to Bunn. “We meet them where they left off with their education, before or at the time when trafficking began,” she says. “We help anybody who wants to go to college, too, through scholarships,” Potter says. “They attend here, online, in mobile classrooms. We apply to a group in Tennessee calledFree for Lifethat gives scholarships specifically for trafficking survivors, and they can go anywhere they want online.”

The Next Phase

After meeting certain requirements, the women “graduate” from The WellHouse. “We actually host a graduation ceremony for them,” Bunn says. That brings about the third phase of the program, Next Steps to Independence (NSI). “Some women move back to their hometowns in this phase, but some aren’t financially ready to live alone,” she says. “NSI takes place in one of our buildings that contains apartments with two bedrooms each, for 16 total beds. They must apply to live there and must have full-time jobs or almost full time and be enrolled in college. They must have their own transportation, too.”

Most of the women in NSI apartments will have saved up to buy a car, but The WellHouse helps with that, too. “Car day is a big day here,” Bunn says. “We have a car fund from donors, and we’ll use it to match their savings up to $2,500.” Women may live one to two years in these apartments, because they need that time to work out the kinks of their new lives. “They pay us $200 a month rent,” Bunn says. “That money goes into a savings account, and we give it all back to them when they leave here.”

Some of the programs offered at The WellHouse include art therapy by a retired schoolteacher, equine therapy at King’s Home in Chelsea, quilting classes taught by women from a local church, and ShopWell, a work-therapy program where the women make jewelry that is sold to the public online, at events and on campus. ‘After they work with ShopWell for six months, The WellHouse helps them find part-time jobs in the community, usually with some of their sponsoring partners. “We also offer job preparation courses,” says Bunn. “We partner with WorkFaith, a career preparation organization.”

Volunteers help, too. “We have a volunteer training program for individuals who are interested,” Bunn says. “They can house sit for a while to give a house mom a break, handle transportation, cut grass, do repairs, mentor, etc. We’re always looking for more volunteers.” Some of the administrative work is done by volunteers, while others sort clothing for Elizabeth’s Closet, the campus clothing boutique furnished by donations. “Every quarter we have a shopping day for the women,” Bunn says. “Volunteers sort the donations and tidy up.”

As a ministry, The WellHouse philosophy is that a spiritual encounter with God and the healing power of Jesus are paramount to recovery. However, staffers don’t force the issue. Participation at monthly chapel services is voluntary. “Spirituality is threaded throughout our programming because we want everyone to know they are loved by God and us,” Bunn says. “We have Bible studies and morning prayer. But we support and facilitate believers of other religions besides Christianity, too.”

The WellHouse operates on an annual budget of $2.4 million, which is funded 100% by donations and grants from individuals, churches, foundations, corporations, nonprofits and federal funding for victims of crime. Fundraising gets a boost with special events in January and October. The one in October is a luncheon where a sex-trafficking survivor shares her story. The January affair is a big party called the Grace Gala, held this year at Thomas Jefferson Towers in Birmingham. “We may have to find a bigger venue next year,” Bunn says. “We had 300 people attend this year.”

The newest program for the ministry, WellHouse Child, is aimed at girls between the ages of 11 and 18. “We have learned that lots of teens are being trafficked,” Bunn says. “They’re minors, and there used to be no safe house in Alabama for trafficked minors.” WellHouse Child is housed in a new, separate building erected in 2020, and will hold 10 minors. “We’re more than excited to begin this new program,” Bunn says. “These girls are identified the same way as other women, through law enforcement, hospitals, health care workers, families. Sometimes, their families are the perpetrators.”

WellHouse Child is a lot like the adult program but tailored to children. They have the same issues as older women. “Their needs are the same, but more extreme,” Bunn says. “They are more likely to run away. Some may need more psychological care than we can give them.”

WellHouse partners with Children’s of Alabama, where the youth are assessed and may have to return for medical attention. “We’re very excited because there’s such a huge need for this program,” Bunn says. “We take residents from all over the U.S. We’ll be able to pave the way through helping others understand how to do this work.”

Human trafficking is such a hidden crime thatit’s hard to get statistics, according to Bunn. Social media plays a big part in it, because victims are groomed and sold online through commercial sex ads. “Only one percent of cases are from abductions,” she says. “Most involve a manipulation process.” Men can be manipulated into the sex trade, too, and while The WellHouse only accepts women now, Bunn, Potter and Worthington hope to add a program for men someday.

Every woman who winds up at The WellHouse comes of her own will. There are no contracts, and the only requirement is the desire to get well. “As much love and support as we give, it’s a lot of work for these women,” Bunn says.

Anna couldn’t agree more. “At times, I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t,” she says. “I’m grateful I had the courage to stay at WellHouse.”

Editor’s Note: If you suspect a girl or woman is the victim of human sex trafficking, you may call The WellHouse local Crisis Line at 205-306-6058 or their toll-free Crisis Line at 800-991-0948. For more information about their program or volunteering, send a note to info@the-wellhouse.org

The judges of St. Clair

Shaping the county legal system

Story by Robert Debter
Archive Photos

St. Clair County’s courthouse stands like a beacon, centering a perfectly square intersection in downtown Ashville. The structure itself has undergone many renovations since Littleton Yarbrough built it in 1844, but it remains central to the county’s legal system, making it the oldest operating courthouse in Alabama. Many of the stories created within its walls and the legal system itself were shaped by those who served as its judges.

A sampling of those earliest years gives a glimpse of how history was made and who made it:

John Ash

John Ash was born Nov. 30, 1783, to William and Jane (Fleming) Ash. The family originated in York County, S.C., and, making their way south, found themselves in Franklin County, Ga., for a time. John, his brother, James, and their families made their way to Alabama.

In January 1817, they were making their way on the Old Montevallo Road, which led through modern-day Ashville and Odenville in Beaver Valley. They camped there and spying game in the distance, John dismounted his wagon, took aim with his rifle and fired. The shot caused the horse to bolt, and Betsy, John and Margaret Ash’s daughter, was thrown from the wagon.

She lay unconscious for three days until Jan. 27, when she died at the age of 3. Not finding it in their hearts to leave Betsy alone, the family stayed with her. A log dogtrot house was constructed for John’s family and his wife’s parents, the Rev. Thomas and Ann Newton. This house, the Ash-Newton Cabin, still stands today and is the oldest structure in St. Clair County.

John would have a two-story house built not far from the Newtons and his beloved daughter.

In November 1819, Ash succeeded James Thomason as county judge and remained in that position until the next election in 1821. Ash was the first man elected to that position, as Judge Thomason had been appointed by Gov. William Wyatt Bibb.

In 1820, Ash, Joel Chandler, John Cunningham, John Massey and George Shotwell were selected by Bibb to secure a Seat of Justice for the county. The first courts had taken place at the home of Alexander Brown near present-day Ashville in Old Town, or “Cataula” in the Creek Language.

On Nov. 28, 1822, St. Clairsville, which covered 30 acres and was in the center of St. Clair County, was incorporated. In less than a month, on Dec. 12, the town was chosen by the five commissioners as the county seat.

St. Clairsville was owned by Philip Coleman, a man who possessed great business skills. He and the commissioners had a model of the town built and began dividing it into lots and selecting locations for the county courthouse and jail.

After this process, Coleman and the commissioners agreed to rename the town Ashville, to honor their friend Judge John Ash.

The courts were moved to Ashville well in advance of the construction of the first courthouse, an 1824 wooden structure that stood on the site where Ashville Rexall Drug was located and is now home to Ashville Dental Care.

The new courthouse was built in 1844 by Littleton Yarbrough, and although renovated several times, part of the original 1844 structure still stands, encased in the modern building, making it the oldest working house of justice in the state of Alabama.

On Oct. 8, 1823, Ashville was purchased by the commissioners for $10,000. Judge Ash would continue to serve his community and county as state senator from 1825-1826, then 1832-1833 and 1844-1845.

Margaret died in 1855, aged 63, and was reunited with her husband on April 1, 1872, when he departed this life at the age of 89. They are both buried at Liberty Cemetery in Odenville and had a total of 13 children together.

Their original grave markers were donated to the City of Ashville by the John Scoggins family and are on public display at Ashville City Hall.

E.J. Robinson

When Henry DeBerry resigned as probate judge in 1871, Gov. Robert B. Lindsay appointed E.J. Robinson, a young Ashville attorney, to that office. In 1874 Judge Robinson was elected to a full, four-year term, and the voters kept him in office until 1886.

Elisha James Robinson was born on Sept. 16, 1846, to George and Mary Robinson, who had come to Alabama from Newberry District, S.C., in 1849. The family first lived in Elyton, but in 1857, they purchased a farm two-and-a-half miles away from Ashville.

When he was 17 years old, Robinson entered the Confederate Army. He joined Company E, 53rd Alabama Infantry Regiment in June of 1863, and at once was in the thick of battle at Big Shanty. On Dec. 13, 1864, the discharge of a torpedo caused him to lose his right foot. He was soon discharged and returned to his studies. He read law and passed the bar examination at the age of 22. He was only 25 when he became probate judge.

Judge Robinson was married three times – first to Susan Vandegrift, then to Lena Ligon, and the third time to Laura Weatherall. Two of his sons, Harold and Memory Leake Robinson, were Birmingham lawyers.

After his service as probate judge of St. Clair County, Judge Robinson moved to East Lake and sold his beautiful Victorian home, built in the 1880s, to James P. and Clara (Inzer) Montgomery, which would remain in the Montgomery family for many years until it was transformed into a bed and breakfast inn known as “Roses and Lace.”

It is now owned by the Nicholas Lemonds Family. Judge Robinson served as mayor of East Lake for a number of years and was active in promoting public schools there. Robinson Elementary School was named for him.

He is interred with his third wife at East Lake Cemetery.

James Lewis Herring

James Lewis Herring was born in St. Clair County on Sept. 7, 1876, to James P. Herring and Elizabeth Forman. After his father’s death of brain fever in 1878 at the age of 27, Elizabeth remarried and moved from Springville to Ashville.

The young James would one day be a football player and graduate of the University of Alabama. He received his degree in law from Georgetown University.

In 1906, at the age of 29, James became the president of Ashville Savings Bank and would serve in that capacity for the remainder of his life. On Dec. 21, 1910, he married Esther Nunnally and the next year was elected probate judge. During his four-year term, Judge Herring championed for new and better roads in St. Clair County.

The Herrings moved to Gadsden in 1916 and there, the former judge would be engaged in real estate and civic activities. He was also a devout Mason.

Judge Herring passed away on Sept. 13, 1952, at his home and was interred at Forrest Cemetery. He would be reunited with his wife almost two years later, when Esther passed away at the age of 68 and was laid to rest beside him.

In 1884, Judge Herring’s uncle, Augustus B. Herring, transformed the family home in Springville into the Herring Hotel, which stood until it destroyed by a fire on Christmas Day in 1960.

Curtis D. Adkins Sr.

Curtis D. Adkins Sr. was born on Jan. 24, 1897, in Moody, attended high school in Leeds and returned from his World War I service in France to become St. Clair County tax collector at the age of 23, the youngest person to ever serve in that office.

In 1928, he became St. Clair County probate judge and served as vice president and president of the Leeds State Bank for many years, as well as president of the Ashville Savings Bank. He was also a livestock dealer with large farming interests and served as post adjutant for the American Legion chapter in Ashville.

Death came suddenly and unexpectedly early in the morning on Wednesday, Feb. 22, 1956, and he was buried at Ashville City Cemetery. At the time of his death, he was director of the U.S. Savings Bond sales program for the state of Alabama.

Judge Adkins was married to the former Erin Westbrook, and their children were Joe, Curtis Jr., and Carolyn (Adkins) Spann. His grandson is the noted television meteorologist and author, James Spann.

Adkins’ portrait was donated by the Joe Adkins Family to the Ashville Museum & Archives. It was painted by Floyd Stewart, Bessemer, a painter and St. Clair native. l

Rock ‘n’ roll fantasy

American Idol’s Gressett returns to Pell City, prepares for next act

Story by Loyd McIntosh
Photos by Richard Rybka

Backstage at the Pell City Center for Education and Performing Arts building on the campus of Pell City High School, Tristen Gressett is just 20 minutes away from taking the stage. In his first appearance since his meteoric rise and frankly, stunning elimination from American Idol, the 17-year-old is launching his solo career.

And he’s doing it from the very stage he has performed on dozens of times in high school theatre productions, choral presentations and events where he was part of an ensemble. On this night, not only is Gressett the featured performer, he’s the only performer – no band, no side musicians, no background singers. Just him, an acoustic guitar (augmented with a few electric effects) and a collection of classic rock songs and some original tunes. All eyes and ears will be focused on him this evening, a reality that is only just beginning to sink in.

“It really kind of hit me today when I was getting set up that I finally have my own show where I’m getting to perform for all these people,” says Gressett. Under the management of his mother, Gressett has been performing in restaurants and bars for much of his teenage years. He comes across like a grizzled vet of honky-tonks and smoke-filled juke joints, building a dedicated group of 10-12 fans who have followed him from gig to gig. “But the rest,” Gressett says, “they’re there to drink, they’re there to eat. They couldn’t care less about the entertainment. Know what I mean?”

In the dressing room, Gressett is wired – an absolute bundle of kinetic energy. Practically unable to sit down for more than five seconds, Gressett spends the last 15 minutes before the show laughing with his girlfriend Leah Love, joking with friends and well-wishers, and even cutting up and snapping a selfie or two with yours truly.

On display is Gressett’s ants-in-the-pants exuberance that practically exploded onto the screen and had the American Idol judges – Katy Perry, Luke Bryan and Lionel Richie – a little unnerved. “We might have to sit on top of you, man,” Richie famously said following Gressett’s rendition of Billy Joel’s Piano Man.

One could easily interpret Gressett’s animation as nervousness, and who could blame them? He has a lot riding on this homecoming. Gressett, however, says “no way!” He’s more than ready to take this next step, launching his post-American Idol career from his hometown. “All my life, I’ve always wanted to be able to perform with everybody there watching for me,” he says. “So yeah, I feel like I’m one step closer to making that dream come true.”

It may be a cliché to say someone is “born” for something. Gressett’s mother and biggest fan, Missie Gressett, says, in her son’s case, it’s pretty much the truth. “He kind of came out performing,” she says. “He has always loved being on the stage. Always.” She played music constantly for Tristen in utero, playing Johannes Brahms and Ludwig van Beethoven through listening devices placed on her stomach, which, at least in part, may account for Tristen’s abilities but also his wide range of musical interests. “He still listens to classical music all these years later, and he plays it on the piano,” his mother says.

“When we were out in Hollywood, we actually went to the Hollywood Bowl and saw Two Cellos, so that was an amazing experience,” adds Ms. Gressett, who has become quite famous in her own right having been featured often during her son’s run on American Idol.

A single mother with a vibrant, creative mind of her own – the homemade Halloween costumes she used to send Tristen to school at Eden Elementary, for instance, are legendary. She has poured much of her energy and passion into helping her only child achieve his dreams. “I am the proudest mama in the world,” she says as she works the merchandise table selling T-shirts and CDs. “We just have a special bond because it’s always just been us, and I’ve always been mama and daddy.”

The American Idol Experience

Gressett auditioned for American Idol along with more than 120,000 hopefuls, all vying for a coveted golden ticket to Los Angeles. Auditioning in Nashville, Gressett’s time in front of the judges is well documented – his aforementioned hyperactivity, the tearing up while chatting with fellow Alabamian Lionel Richie, his rendition of Piano Man and his thoughtful promotions of Pell City, just to name a few of the highlights.

Gressett seemed to devour the screen during his audition, but, he says, so much more goes into those moments than what viewers see months later. “What you’re seeing on television is what an editor sat down and was like, ‘OK, how can we turn this three-hour moment into two minutes?’ My audition on television, was about, what, 15 minutes? It actually happened over a span of three days.”

Despite some initial hesitancy among the judges, Gressett earned his golden ticket and was whisked off to La La Land – Hollywood. There, he experienced the intensity of the show’s weekly production schedule of “a ton of interviews,” walking around Los Angeles shooting b-roll footage, practicing and generally trying to survive the insanity week to week.

Despite the show’s competition format, Gressett says he never viewed the other contestants as rivals. “These were all people with the same goals, and it was awesome being around all those people who have such a strong connection because they’re all fighting for the same thing,” Gressett says. “It just never felt like a competition to me.”

For much of Gressett’s American Idol run, he appeared to be the lead dog, leaving the pack behind. But Gressett was eliminated after the Top 11 show in late April after performing a rousing rendition of the Rolling Stones’ classic, You Can’t Always Get What You Want.

His ouster was not without controversy. Many viewers on streaming services such as Hulu and Xfinity claim technical issues caused Gressett’s performance to go missing from the broadcast. In the days that followed, several online petitions were begun to get Gressett back on the show due to the error. In the end, the results stood, and Gressett’s run came to an early end – fairly or unfairly.

American Idol tends to reward screechy divas and clean-cut young men rather than long-haired, bearded, bluesy rockers like Gressett – Alabamian Bo Bice being a notable exception – a viewpoint shared by none other than Katy Perry. “He’s a rock ‘n’ roller, and it’s really challenging for that genre sometimes to get really far because it’s not about who’s the best singer – you have to check a little bit of a lot of boxes,” said Perry in a press statement following Gressett’s final episode. “But I think that he definitely poured a lot of sauce on his performance tonight and you got to strike a balance. I wish him the best. I’m gonna be seeing him on stage. I’m gonna go to his concerts for sure.”

“Somebody like me is going to have to fight a little harder,” adds Gressett, “and I fought as hard as I could. But I’m happy to make it as far as I did because over 122,000 people auditioned to be on the show. Just to be able to say ‘hey I placed 11th’ makes me feel a lot better about my journey ending when it did. I’m just happy to be able to pursue music on my own now with a stronger head on my shoulders and with the knowledge that I learned from the show.”

It’s Show Time!

With the crowd at near capacity, Gressett hits the stage shortly after 7 p.m. and immediately launches into his version of Piano Man followed by an eclectic mix of well-known classics, Neil Young’s Heart of Gold, Chuck Berry’s Johnny B. Good – showing off his considerable guitar soloing skills in the process – and a version of the Beatles’ With A Little Help From My Friends.

The fifth song of the set was an original, titled The Road. Throughout the night, Gressett included a handful of accomplished original songs included on a six-song EP released in 2021 titled Act I: The Poet.

Gressett’s songwriting isn’t nearly celebrated as much as his skills as a singer and performer, although it’s clear that he puts much time and effort into his writing. “Sometimes it starts with the guitar and sometimes it starts with a phrase, and then I think, ‘How do I turn this into a song?’ I also use a lot of my personal experiences that I go through and stories of people that I know and love,” he explains.

A standout tune is one simply titled, Tiffany. It tells the story of a young and awkwardly inexperienced young man who finds himself attracted to a girl named Tiffany, who, though only a few years older, has a few more cynical miles under her belt than her would-be suitor. After finishing the song, Gressett said that it was one of his more humorous, jokey songs.

On the contrary,Tiffany displays a maturity in its wordsmithing.

In all, Gressett performed for around two hours, the crowd seemingly in the palm of his hand the entire night, even during a few moments that didn’t go as planned. For instance, Gressett managed his way around a pesky guitar cable that shorted out a handful of times during the night and handled a few of the rowdier fans with the humor and finesse of a seasoned pro.

One moment that particularly showed Gressett’s grace under fire occurred when he realized he left his capo (guitar geeks will know what this is) in the dressing room, leaving him unable to play his next song in the right key. Gressett walked backstage while mumbling in a high-pitch, faux-female voice, “You mean to tell me I paid $20 just so I can watch this kid look for his stuff?” to wild laughter before returning on stage to start the next song.

The show was a triumphant homecoming for Gressett, who waves his Pell City flag high and proud. While much of his talent and stage presence is natural, he says there have many people along the way who have helped him to become the person he is today.

“In eighth grade, my drama teacher, Mrs. Nixon, really encouraged me to hone in on my performance in theater. I’ve always been kind of crazy, but she got me to hone in and use it as a way of expressing myself,” says Gressett. “Mrs. Kaler at the high school has been one of my biggest supporters. She’s such a great person in general, but she has done so much when it came to getting people to vote for me. She’s been such a huge part of this for me.

“And, of course, Eden Elementary. That’s my home place over there. I love Eden. I went and sang for the kids over there recently and, man, that was such a full-circle moment for me,” Gressett add. “That was so awesome.”

What’s Up Next?

With his American Idol experience and high school graduation behind him, Gressett is focused on kick-starting his music career in a big way. Eventually, he plans to relocate to Los Angeles, but, until then, his schedule is full of appearances throughout the summer.

He performed at the Creek Bank Festival in Leeds, the Block Party in Pell City, and he opened for American Idol winner and Birmingham native Taylor Hicks at the Jazz Fest in Alexander City.

Later in June, he opened for Jefferson Starship at the Helen Keller Festival in Tuscumbia, and on July 1, Gressett performed in Canada, his first time traveling outside the U.S., at the Grand Falls Potato Festival in Grand Falls, New Brunswick. l

Features

Hen Party

Chickens rule the roost for one Ashville woman

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Mackenzie Free

Some people walk their dogs. A few even walk their cats. Brenda Myers walks her chickens.

“I used to take them on free-range walks, where I’d be the rooster watching for the hawks,” Brenda says. “I only had two hens then, but I have 10 now, and while you can control one or two, you can’t herd 10.”

Now she walks them in chicken “tractors,” the coops-on-wheels that her husband, Dennis, built so the chickens can go for walks without fear of predators. Brenda puts her chickens in one and pulls it with a rope to a grassy spot and lets the flock scratch for bugs and worms. “When they are tired of one place, which is about 30 to 40 minutes, they’ll look at me, and I know it’s time to move them to another spot,” she says.

She treats them more like pets than egg layers. She coos to them, picks them up and strokes them, talks to them as if they were toddlers. She regales her friends with descriptions of their antics. When one was partially eaten by a predator during the night, she cried for weeks. She’s constantly perusing chicken websites for tips and picks up toddler toys for them at thrift stores. To say she’s obsessed might be an understatement.

“Chickens are awesome creatures,” she says. “God just made a good thing when he made chickens.”

Brenda got her first chickens, two six-year-old hens, in January 2021 for the fresh eggs and fun. She had wanted some since first moving to Ashville in 2002, but Dennis kept saying no, they’re smelly. Getting the first two gave her a chance to see whether she liked chickens. She kept them a year before a raccoon got into their coop and ate part of one. The other died of an apparent heart attack just seeing the animal chomp away on her sister. Brenda buried them together.

On her birthday in March of 2021, she got six chicks from the St. Clair County Co-Op in Ashville: two Buff Orpringtons, two Black Orpringtons and two Barred Rocks. They were a day old, shipped from the hatchery at birth. “Of that first six, one was a rooster, and I re-homed him,” she says. “I did not want the drama.” Then she got five more: two Lavender Orpringtons, two Cinnamon Queens and a Black Sex Link. She raised all of them in her basement until they reached laying age, which is five to six months, depending upon the breed.

“I had to separate one, Sandy, because she got picked on,” Brenda says. “But all of them get along fine now.” The flock consists of Verna (named after a friend), Sandy, Bertha, Baby (the runt who rules the roost), Silk, Satin, Cinnamon, Honey, Lacy and Buffy.

Dennis designed the latest coop and tractors. The first coop came with the first two hens, then he built a larger one last fall. The new one measures 9 feet by 31 feet. At one end is the door, while a 4-by-6-foot chicken house is at the other end. The chicken house has beams for the hens to roost on at night, with doors that close automatically behind them to prevent predators from getting to them should they manage to get inside the screened coop. A nesting box with three compartments has its own outside doors so Brenda can gather eggs without going into the coop. The entire setup includes a 27-foot run, which gives the hens some freedom of movement.

Inside the run are wooden perches, a swing, traditional chicken feeders hanging from the rafters and a plastic cat-litter bucket turned into a hanging water bucket with the insertion of “chicken nipples.” The latter are handy little devices that screw into the bucket and release a small amount of water when pecked. There are two old wooden chairs tied together, back to back in the center of the run, and the hens use the combined backs as a perch.

And then there are the toys. There’s a toddler learning box attached to the side of the coop that plays “Old McDonald” and makes farm-animal noises when poked or pecked and two xylophones. She puts peanut butter on the toys to make the chickens peck them. She has taught Sandy to “play” the xylophone using a clicker. She also has a plastic toy caterpillar that plays, “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands.” Brenda substitutes “wings” in place of “hands” as she sings along with the toy.

The newest addition to the collection is a child’s bicycle. Dennis removed the handlebars, laid it on its side, and propped it up with a concrete block under each wheel. The idea is for the chickens to hop on the wheels and use them as merry-go-rounds or treadmills. “So far, no luck,” Brenda says, sighing.

She likes to pick up her chickens and pet them, but there’s a trick to that. “If you scratch their backs, they’ll lie down, as if submitting to a rooster’s amorous advances. You can pick them up then,” she says, demonstrating the technique with Sandy.

Their main diet consists of dried mealworms and laying pellets. But she showers them with snacks, too. So, when she approaches their coop, they gather at the door, clucking and pacing in anticipation. They’re carnivores that love bugs, especially ticks, and will eat worms, lizards and mice, too.

They also like milkweed, clover and other grasses, and once ate the burrs off Brenda’s pants after her trek through the woods. She bought some sage plants for them, along with lemon mint leaves. Lots of plants are poisonous to them, though, so she checks the internet before giving them something new. “I check several sources, not just one,” she says. “I’m growing cabbage and collards for them, too. I cut cabbage heads in half and hang them in their coop.” They also like apples, pears, cucumbers, squash, watermelon and cantaloupe. Fresh corn on the cob is their favorite, though. “I didn’t know anything about chickens when I got the first ones,” Brenda says. “I had to learn from scratch (no pun intended).”

She says chickens are a hoot, and they help her relax. She often takes a lawn chair and just sits by the coop, watching them and listening to their coos. “When they’re happy, they purr like a female turkey,” she says, as if everyone knows how a female turkey sounds. “When they’re angry, it’s almost like a honk.” She coos back at them, as if they were human babies. Ask Dennis how he feels about the “smelly” chickens, and he replies, “I built the chicken things, didn’t I?” He likes watching them, too.

Brenda says they’re quite amusing when taking dirt baths. They will lie down and use first one leg and then the other to toss dirt onto their backs and sides. Then they’ll roll over on their sides and spread the dirt and get up and shake like a dog or horse. A certain amount of dirt stays under their feathers, keeping out mites and lice.

Back in early June, Verna, one of the Black Orpringtons, became “broody.” That’s what you call a hen who wants to be a mom so bad she will sit on a nest for days trying to hatch a non-existent egg. “Verna would ruffle up her feathers when touched,” Brenda says. “A lot of people get pecked when they try to handle a broody hen.” A broody one will sit on a nest up to three weeks, even though there is no rooster around to fertilize and no eggs under her. “Sometimes they will die because they don’t eat or drink all that time,” Brenda says.

The best thing she has found to get a broody hen off the nest is to give her “time out.” She yanks her out of the nesting box and puts her into a large dog cage within the coop. She puts food and water in the cage and leaves her there most of the day, returning her to the roost at night. “If you do this about three days, she’ll get the message,” Brenda says.

It’s a challenge keeping the chickens hydrated in the summer. She hoses down a space in their run so they can wallow in it and puts ice in their water bucket. She also gives them cool treats like frozen blueberries.

She gets eight to 10 eggs per day in spring and early summer. “They’ll slow down on hot days, and they molt in the fall and don’t lay as much,” Brenda says. “They don’t lay during the winter.” Ten eggs per day are more than she and Dennis can eat. She gives away some, but she’s also learning to preserve them. Who knew you can keep them up to a year in a jar with pickling lime and distilled water?

“You need the freshest eggs possible,” she says. “They can’t be older than three days. You don’t wash them but leave the bloom on. It’s an antibiotic.” (The bloom is a foamy layer of protein that surrounds the egg and is the last thing formed on the shell before it is laid, according to Chicken Whisperer magazine).

Brenda preserves them in a gallon glass jar that holds 30 eggs. She stores the jars in her basement. “If you don’t want to preserve them, you can leave fresh eggs on your countertop for five weeks unwashed or you can wash them and place them in the refrigerator for three months,” she says. “Store-bought eggs won’t keep that long.”

While other people are pulling up photos of their grandchildren on their cellphones or posting them on Facebook, Brenda is pulling up photos of her chickens. “They’re my grandchildren,” she says.

Features

Magic City Chefs

Using talent to cook up something special & serve others

Story by Paul South
Photos by Mackenzie Free
Submitted Photos

On a sweltering June day, Jason Mullenix is at work in a steaming kitchen. While most, if not all of us, may only hear the clatter of pots and pans, Mullenix, the owner of St. Clair County-based The Magic City Chefs, choreographs a sweet and savory dance.

After just three years in business, The Magic City Chefs has a client base stretching from Atlanta to Birmingham to Smith Lake as he prepares gourmet lunches and dinners in the homes of his clients. Some want a daily lunch. Others may crave a gourmet dinner party for eight.

And Mullenix wants more than just pleased palates and stuffed tummies. He wants to turn back the clock and give back by bringing families back to the dinner table to talk, not text, make eye contact with each other instead of fixed stares at a smartphone screen.

“I noticed it in my own family, being a chef and working from sunup to sundown and most holidays,” he says. “I mean when families have Mother’s Day or something like that, they want to take them out to eat, you know, so that they don’t have to cook. It all falls back on the chef.”

For the culinary professional, which means missed family holidays, missed little league games, even lost chances to tell bedtime stories and give goodnight hugs. “It really dawned on me. We were all sitting around a table at a restaurant when I had a day off, and I looked across the table, and they were all on their phones, including my wife,” he says. And I’m like, there’s nothing to see on your phone. We all should be talking … I looked around the restaurant, and pretty much the same thing was going on at every table.”

He flashed back to the days when his mom cooked dinner, served at the dining room table, when families talked about their day’s triumphs and trials, laughed and kidded and became a family. Going out to eat was a rarity.

“It was more than just sitting there eating,” Mullenix says.

A 17-year culinary veteran, he was supervising a large institutional kitchen when the vision for The Magic City Chefs hit. For him, the joy of cooking had become nothing more than a book title.

“I was burned out,” he says. “The passion was gone. I was making great money, but I couldn’t enjoy it, and I couldn’t enjoy my family with it. I realized there were people out there who don’t have time to come home to cook a decent meal.”

He adds, “I wanted to do something different and find that passion again. If I can help somebody through the gifts that God has given me … If I can help people, I feel like I served my purpose.”

Genesis of a chef

Serving others and purpose are key ingredients in the The Magic City Chefs’ recipe, a process that began when Mullenix was in the Navy, serving first in the base store, then as a barber, then a launderer and three years as a chaplain’s assistant at the Singing River Island Naval Station in Pascagoula, Miss. His cooking interest flamed up when he ran the local observance of the National Prayer Breakfast.

While in the Navy, he took night courses in business administration, then went to culinary school. His first stop was as a baker at Panera Bread, working the night-owl shift. Then came restaurants, the University of Alabama (serving ESPN, the skyboxes at Bryant-Denny Stadium and Crimson Tide alumni) and other Capstone kitchens. He crafted not only pastries, but he learned the savory side of the culinary art.

Then came stops in Birmingham and Pell City. In the Magic City, he catered and cooked for events at the historic antebellum Arlington House. He cooked for dignitaries ranging from mayors to the Red Hat Ladies to Nicky Minaj, where the music superstar wanted everything from food to furniture in pink for a pre-concert party. The Real Housewives of Atlanta were also served during his six years at Arlington.

Of Minaj, Mullenix says, “She probably came in for like five seconds. We got stuck in an elevator for about an hour trying to leave because of security.”

He also worked for the firm that provided food service and vending for Honda in Lincoln. Then came another restaurant stop, followed by Birmingham-Southern College and a nursing home stint before the birth of The Magic City Chefs.

Chef Jason Mullenix puts his cooking skills to work.

The service business cooks prepared meals in-house for clients – one a day – that takes six or seven hours, depending on their choices. Every week, clients get a new menu. A family of four can go six months without eating the same entrée twice, with a wide-ranging menu.

Weekends are reserved for dinner parties, from formal sit down to informal family-style or plated meals of four courses. Mullenix also supplies glassware, tableware, linens and menu cards. Everything is catered to the client. Prices vary depending on the menu, generally from $100-200 per person. A romantic four-course meal costs $300. Diners must provide any alcoholic beverages.

“The majority of anything local I’ve done is around Logan Martin Lake,” Mullenix says. “I haven’t had any prepared meal clients. Most of the clients I have during the week are in the Mountain Brook-Vestavia Hills area.”

One of his first clients, a nonagenarian in North Birmingham, gets meals delivered daily. Mullenix tries to use ingredients the clients have in-house.

There’s also a creative cake arm of the business – for weddings, birthdays, etc., – that sees brisk business from March to October. Among the most unusual wedding cake requests: a “Nightmare Before Christmas” wedding cake.

“It turned out pretty good,” Mullenix says.

While cooking for any number of diners – from a romantic dinner for two to a wedding reception for hundreds – is a pressure cooker, there is a silver lining.

“There’s a good stress about being in the kitchen; it’s not always bad,” Mullenix says. “When everything is going as it should, and you’re creating wonderful food, there’s a ballet about it that’s hard to describe unless you’ve been there.”

That dance includes shopping for the client’s dinner, setting the table, preparing the meal which features locally produced, farm-to-table ingredients.

And there’s still a dance, albeit alone, as he works in a client’s kitchen. It’s a pots-and-pans version of Billy Idol’s Dancing With Myself.

“I just put in my earbuds and do what I need to do,” Mullenix says.

Business is bubbling for The Magic City Chefs. And what’s more, Mullenix’s culinary passion has reignited, and he’s learning with every creation.

And, in keeping with his calling to help others, he’s cooked for temporary clients who need meals while going through physical therapy.

“It’s a lot more rewarding than cooking (in a restaurant) for a bunch of foodies.”

And Mullenix sees his calling and his vision – both that would make June Cleaver smile – families at the dinner table talking like the Mullenix family did long ago. Mullenix even does the dishes.

“That’s the most rewarding part,” he says, “actually seeing families able to do that.”

And at the end of the evening, Mullenix hasn’t only served great gourmet food. He’s given something even more precious.

“I don’t just sell great food,” he says. “I give back time.”

Features

Historic wedding venue

Couples make new memories at family farm

Story by Eryn Ellard
Photos by Richard Rybka

It is no secret that St. Clair County is home to wide-ranging and stunning views. Look in just about any direction, and there it is. From a sunrise over lake Logan Martin or Neely Henry lakes to the tranquil setting of Springville’s quaint downtown to the rolling hills, mountains and sprawling pastures of the north, St. Clair is no stranger to picturesque places around the state.

It is a road less traveled, County Road 31 past the churches readying for revival and homecoming, where Anderson Farm comes into view, emerging as yet another picture-perfect destination.

After four generations and not one divorce in the lineage, Toni Anderson Clark and husband Randy, who represent that fourth generation living there decided it just might be the perfect venue to share with others to begin life anew on their wedding day.

Its history is deeply rooted in this soil. Originally, the property sat on 1,000 acres first purchased by William R. and Annie Elizabeth Anderson in 1905. Four generations later, the farm remains in the family, and breathtaking scenery is just a glance away.

From the white-washed front porch swing of the original homeplace with two rooms dating back to the Civil War, one can see for what seems like forever. The rolling green hills of spring rise up to meet a clear blue country sky.

The Clarks utilize features of farm for events. The barn doubles as reception area, complete with pulldown bar or serving area.

Just a few hundred feet from the porch lies an idyllic orchard with fig, pecan, walnut, pear and peach trees that, when in bloom, smell so sweet they bring back lingering memories of another time. Perhaps it was bittersweet – a time when life was slower and simpler, yes, but also peppered with memories of war and loss.

Turkeys and other wildlife run freely through the wide-open fields on the property, which all remain untouched by modern development. Through four generations, there have been many Anderson family members born on the property, including now 93-year-old Ray Anderson.

Anderson is a veteran of the Korean War, having served in the U.S. Navy from 1949-1953, two tours in Korea and being honorably discharged as yeoman second class. Ray is now the only surviving son of the farm’s second generation, patriarch Paden and Cammie Anderson. Ray also had two brothers, Floyd and Jesse, both of whom also served in the Navy during World War II and honorably discharged as yeoman first class. Anderson’s two uncles, Henry and Carl Anderson, to served in World War I.

From left, Dorothy and Ray Anderson, Toni and Randy Clark

“We come from a long line of military service,” Anderson said. “There have been family members that lived here and also proudly served our country from World War I through the Korean War.”

After the war, Anderson packed up his things and used his GI Bill to attend Jacksonville State University, where he studied business administration. It is also where he was introduced by a friend to his now beautiful bride of 64 years, Dorothy Leininger, known to many as “Dot.” The two were married in 1958, shortly after she graduated with her degree in medical technology. At first, she did not let herself be pursued romantically by the young seaman because she was there to study.

“At first, he was just an acquaintance, someone I’d see around campus, and we were friendly,” Anderson recalled. “But I was there to study and graduate first, so I saw to it that I did that before becoming an item with Ray.”

The two settled into married life in Atlanta and had two daughters, Toni Clark and Debbie Williamson. Toni and her husband, Randy, are now the fourth generation to live and work on Anderson Farm.

Ray playfully noted that there has yet to be a divorce in the Anderson family. Dot agrees saying the secret to 64 years of marriage is not luck or money, but hard work – plain and simple. “You just have to put in the work every single day and if you do, well, I think you’ll be just fine.”