Rim to Rim

Pair of Pell City engineers ‘engineer’ a Grand Canyon adventure

Story by Scottie Vickery
Submitted photos

John Jones remembers reading a quote years ago that’s been on his mind quite a bit recently. The gist is that if you pick something to tackle, and it doesn’t seem impossible at the beginning, you didn’t choose something hard enough.

Jones and Dennis Vandegrift, his friend and co-worker, don’t have to worry that they set their sights on something too easy. Their idea to hike the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to-rim in two days was a daunting one. Five months after achieving their goal, they’re still amazed at what they accomplished.

Dennis hiking along the North Kaibab Trail, Day 1

“A little over a year ago, (we) hatched an insane idea” Jones said in a Facebook post after returning home. “We thought we should try to hike from one rim of the Grand Canyon to the other and back over two days. 110,000-ish steps, 45 miles, 20,000 feet of elevation change, and I’m not sure how many training hikes and runs later, we did it. I’m honestly more than a little surprised we pulled it off.”

Not many people do. According to the National Park Foundation, a partner of the National Park Service, fewer than 1% of the Grand Canyon’s 5 million annual visitors even venture below the rim – and many of those just hike a few miles. The ones who hike rim to rim, typically over two days, are even fewer.

Then there’s Jones and Vandegrift, who did it twice. They hiked from the North Rim of the canyon to the South Rim in 12 hours, spent the night in a hotel, and hiked back from the South Rim to the North the next day.

“It was cool, but it was a little bit nuts,” Jones said. “The more it’s in the rearview mirror, the cooler it becomes.”

The planning stages

Both Jones and Vandegrift, structural engineers with Barnett Jones Wilson in Pell City, are avid outdoorsmen. Jones, 49, is a hiking and backpacking enthusiast while Vandegrift, 41, competes in triathlons and owns Off-Road Multisport, which hosts swim/bike/run/paddle off-road race events in Alabama and Northwest Florida.

The two are always up for a challenge, and Jones proposed this one. “I mentioned it to Dennis, and it took him five seconds to say, ‘We’re doing it,’” Jones recalled.

They had to work quickly since lodging sells out a year in advance. “We hatched this plan 54 weeks before we could do the trip, so we had to make a lot of quick decisions,” Jones said. “The first day we were eligible, we booked everything.”

Their goal was to hike rim-to-rim-to-rim, but they decided to arrange for a shuttle at the South Rim in case they got there and weren’t up to hiking back. “We thought it would be a cheap insurance plan,” Jones said. Because of COVID, though, there were fewer shuttle options than normal, and all were booked. “At that point, it was all or nothing,” he said.

They began training in earnest. “I felt like I was the weak link,” Jones said. “He could have shown up ready to do it, but I definitely had a lot of conditioning to do. I was more worried about my general fitness level, and Dennis was more concerned about his feet and knees.”

The Grand Canyon hike is different from most, Vandegrift said, and they kept that in mind while training. “It’s like a reverse mountain climb,” he said. “You’re doing the descent first and then the ascent at the end when you’re tired. Normally, you get to the top, and you have gravity to bring you home.”

Another issue is temperature changes. The North Rim doesn’t open until May 15 because it’s got a much higher elevation than the South Rim, and ice and snow can be issues. “The first morning, it was 25 degrees when we left,” Vandegrift said. “By midday at the bottom, it was 90.”

Training included lots of hikes at Mt. Cheaha, and Jones had a previously scheduled hike in Wyoming. He also headed to Clingmans Dome in the Smoky Mountains after planning a hike that mimicked the Grand Canyon one as closely as possible.

“It was about 25 miles with 9-10,000 feet of elevation changes,” Jones said, adding that he started high, hiked down first and then back up. “I figured if I couldn’t do it in the Smoky Mountains when it’s 50 or 60 degrees, I couldn’t do it in the Grand Canyon when it’s in the 90s.”

Hiking the canyon

The two headed to Arizona on May 22. They camped out the night before the first day of hiking, which Jones said was their only big mistake. “We should have stayed in a hotel,” he said. “We had to break camp that morning, which took a long time, and it was cold. We were shooting to leave at 5 a.m. but it was more like 6:30.”

Each carried only the bare necessities in his pack – a toothbrush, water, change of clothes and two days’ worth of trail food, Vandegrift said. They planned to eat dinner at the hotel once they made it to the South Rim that evening, and there were water stations every three to five miles, so they never had to carry more than two quarts of water. “The packs probably weighed 18 or 20 pounds starting out, which is light for a pack,” he said.

John on a bridge crossing on the North Kaaibab Trail

One of the first things they noticed before setting out was all the warning signs around the Grand Canyon. “Hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon is optional. Hiking out is mandatory,” one read. Even still, they were determined. “I think where most people get in trouble is when they don’t respect it and understand it going into it,” Vandegrift said. “We knew it was going to be hard as hell.”

By the time they reached the bottom of the canyon on the first day, they were feeling it. They stopped for lunch and a cold glass of lemonade at Phantom Ranch, which offers the only lodging below the rim of the canyon and is accessible only by foot, mule or by rafting the Colorado River. Although many hikers stay the night, Jones and Vandegrift still had the ascent to the South Rim ahead of them.

“At one point we still had to hike nine more miles and gain 4,400 vertical feet to get to the hotel room,” Jones said, adding that the distance included a three- to four-mile section they later learned is nicknamed Heart Attack Hill. “We both had heart monitors on our watches, and they were beating pretty fast,” he said with a laugh.

By the end of the first day, all they could think about was food and a hot shower. “Our hotel room had a claw-foot tub that you had to step into. When we walked in and saw it, we were like, ‘Are you kidding me?’” After a hot dinner and a load of ibuprofen, they went to sleep only to be awakened by horrible leg cramps.

Getting up to catch the 5 a.m. shuttle to the South Kaibab trailhead was painful, and they started the hike in the dark with headlamps. A few miles in, they were rewarded with an incredible sunrise. “There are 360-degree views, and the sun just illuminates everything,” Vandegrift said. “It was incredible.”

Although they had seen some beautiful scenery and a full-size ram that jumped out of nearby brush the day before, they both agreed that the South Kaibab Trail, which is very steep, was their favorite. “In the really steep sections, you could look down and see as many as 10 switchbacks,” or zigzags of the trail, Jones said.

“You could see someone down below, and they seemed so close, like you could throw a rock to them, but they were probably an hour ahead on the trail,” Vandegrift added.

The views were spectacular. “If we had hiked that section and spent twice as much time there, it still wouldn’t have been enough; it was just so scenic,” Jones said. Vandegrift agreed. “You can take a million pictures and it doesn’t begin to capture it.”

Mission accomplished

By the time they made it back to the North Rim about 5 p.m., they were hungry, tired and had a 3-hour drive to their hotel ahead of them. They got a bison burger at a drive-through, turned in early, headed home the next day, and were in the office the day after that. “I don’t think we had that ‘we did it’ feeling until that first day back in the office,” Vandegrift said.

Although they were disappointed that they never saw a herd of bison, which are often spotted at the North Rim, Jones and Vandegrift said they loved the experience and the challenge. “The first three miles and the last three miles each day were the hardest,” Jones said.

Although they pushed themselves, they never considered quitting. “At the end of the first day when we still had a few miles left to go, I was feeling apprehensive about the second day,” Vandegrift said. “But you settle in, get down to business and start walking. It was two really long days of hiking, and there are times we were hurting, but it was never, ‘We’re about to die.’ We never thought that we weren’t going to finish.”

Jones said he was proud of their achievement and the determination that carried them through to the end. “My daughter runs cross country, and she would go to Cheaha with me and Dennis for some of our 13- to 14-mile training hikes,” he said. “She’d be running up the hills, and I was struggling to get up them.

“She saw me struggling in November with something that shouldn’t be that hard if you’re going to do what I signed up to do,” he said. “Then she saw what I did and saw what you can accomplish if you put your mind to it. That’s a pretty good feeling.”

Mud Factor

Run at Millcreek MX Park in Pell City

Story, photos and video
by Graham Hadley

Mud Factor bills itself as a “seriously fun, 5K obstacle run,” and it delivered exactly that.

Despite days of heavy rains leading up to the day before the race, organizers were able to put together a spectacular event at Pell City’s Millcreek MX Park just off the Eden Exit of I-20.

David Carpenter, one of the event organizers, said their run is supposed to be more family oriented than many of the more hard-core obstacle runs and tries to draw a diverse crowd of people who otherwise might not tackle such a challenge.

“We call ourselves a fitness-based entertainment event, very family oriented. Our obstacle course is more family friendly,” he said.

The early runs are for mixed groups of children and adults – people of all ages and athletic abilities. One lap is half the run, and there are no penalties if you opt out of an obstacle.

“One of our MCs says it best: ‘If you are staring up at an obstacle. And it is staring back at you, and you say, ‘Oh heck no.’ You can walk around it,’” Carpenter said.

There are also no 1st-place awards – but everyone gets a medal for finishing.

“The reality is that we are just trying to get people off the couch and have fun with their friends and family. Participants often help each other over the obstacles. There is no 1st place or last place. We are a fun run. No times are kept,” he said.

Don’t be fooled, though, this is still a challenging obstacle and mud run. And though one lap gets you through the entire course with all the obstacles, it takes two go-arounds to hit that 5K mark. Those runs are usually reserved for the afternoon.

Team Jamaica, Russ, Ronae, Sadike, and Sachell at the beginning

The course has the usual suspects of obstacles – mud holes, inclines and ladders, ropes and crawls, walls, and of course, water slides. All the extra rain this year made for some tricky spots – areas that are normally only a couple of feet deep required swimming in some spots. Like the rest of the obstacles, there were plenty of Mud Factor staff on hand, especially around the deep water, to help anyone who needed it.

Safety was always at primary concern. In addition to the staff monitoring the obstacles, there were water stations, places to store you backpacks and gear – the Mud Factor employees had every contingency covered.

For spectators and participants, there were food trucks, music, and the runners got bandannas and free stick-on tattoos.

Despite the weeks of wet weather leading up to the run, the actual day of the event was perfect – clear skies and warm but not sweltering weather – the perfect combination for the perfect outdoors event.

With the increase in COVID-19 cases, event organizers took extra precautions to keep everyone safe – there was plenty of room for everybody to social distance, but masks were required in the starting area where everyone was crowded together at the beginning of each run. Masks were encouraged, but not required, in any areas where people were close together. Nobody was required to run with a mask.

“Mill Creek is the perfect venue right now,” Carpenter said. The park is a top MX competition bike track that is privately owned. Some of the other venues Mud Factor uses are in government-owned facilities and have to follow very strict COVID guidelines. Millcreek did not have such stringent requirements, which made the run much more fun for the participants.

That’s not the only reason, though, that Carpenter likes the park so much.

“It’s ideal. It has good entrance and exits, there is plenty of parking, the track and surrounding areas are dirt with some great terrain,” he said.

But most important is the easy access to water.

“At other parks, we are a national mud-run company, so especially out West, we have to often port in our own water for the obstacles and the mud. That is a lot of water, a lot of work. Millcreek had all of that right there,” he said.

“We are celebrating 10 years this year, and the MX parks are ideal. The tracks are permitted for crowds, they have the parking … it makes it easy.”

Climbing obstacle at Mud Factor run at Millcreek MX park in Pell City

And true to the organizers’ intent, Mud Factor drew people from all walks of life and ages and from all over the region.

One trio was there from Madison because of a bet. Russ said with a smile that he was at the race because “Jamaicans run faster than Americans.” He had bet two of his friends from Jamaica, Ronae and Sachell, that America would win a track event they were watching on TV. “And there they went over the finish line, Jamaica, one, two, three, so here I am,” he said.

One of the things that made the race attractive to that group, who also brought young Sadike with them, was that the course was designed for athletes and non-athletes alike and was just a fun way to get out and get some exercise.

At the finish line, Team Jamaica Ronae and Sachell kept celebrating by throwing themselves back into the giant pool of water that served as the final obstacle, huge grins on their faces, as Russ filmed them from the shore with his phone, a grin plastered on his face as well.

That was the overall feeling from the other runners – a fun, athletic day in the sun and a chance to get out after a long year cooped up at home.

Nicole from Locust Fork said she had heard about the event on Facebook and that she liked the family-friendly atmosphere.

“This is great for kids, a good family event. We can go around any obstacles that are too hard for them,” she said.

A lot of the competitors were there in groups and said they often do these kinds of events together on a regular basis.

Candice, Jason, Lauren and Niles were one such group from Birmingham.

“We have done runs together before. We heard about it on Facebook and decided to come out,” Niles said.

Lauren agreed, “We saw it online, and it just looked like a lot of fun.”

The organizers enjoy the events almost as much as the runners, Carpenter said, and they have every intention of returning to St. Clair County for future mud runs.

“We have been doing this for 10 years. It is a lot of work. If we did not love doing this, we would not still be doing it,” he said. “I definitely see us returning here in the future.”

For people looking for additional Mud Factor races here, Carpenter did say that the events are usually named after the largest nearby metro area – so even though the race is held at Millcreek MX Park in Pell City, it is advertised as the Birmingham Mud Factor race.

Medical Specialists

Helping meet the needs of every patient

Story by Jackie Romine Walburn
Discover staff photos

St. Clair County medical practices are partnering with specialists from larger municipal area to bring specialty medicine – from cardiology to surgery to dermatology – closer to home.

“Having the specialists here in our office offers continuity of care for patients, plus convenience and familiarity,” says Pell City Internal and Family Medicine (PCIFM) office manager Terri Woods. “The response from patients is always positive.”

The specialists now seeing patients through PCIFM lease offices at the practice’s facility at 41 Emience Way in Pell City. When needed, the internal and family medicine physicians refer patients to specialists who bring staff and see patients in Pell City on a regular basis.

The medical specialties often needed by patients of Pell City’s internal and family medicine practices include cardiology, orthopedics, general surgery, gastroenterology, nephrology (kidney care), podiatry and dermatology.

Currently PCIFM has five medical specialists who see patients on referrals from the local practice. Each specialist’s offices schedule appointments and have medical staff who come to the Pell City offices.

Medical specialists now seeing patients in Pell City through PCIFM include:

Dr. Karl E. Hofammann III, an orthopedic surgeon who specializes in sports medicine, total joint replacement, hand and wrist surgery and general orthopedics. He practices at Orthosports Associates offices at Citizen’s Baptist Medical Center, St. Vincent’s East and Pell City Internal and Family Medicine.

Dr. Vinh Nyguyen, a general surgeon who focuses on areas and organs of the abdomen and related organs, specializes in invasive or minimally invasive surgical techniques with the latter reducing recovery time and stress on the patient’s body. He has offices in Birmingham, Oneonta and Pell City.

Dr. Raj Patel, a board-certified dermatologist trained in micrographic surgery and cutaneous oncology. A native of Shelby County, Dr. Patel is the only ACMS (American College of Mohs Surgery) fellowship trained in Mohs and reconstructive surgeon in Shelby and Chilton counties. Working with Truye Dermatology, Dr. Patel has offices in Alabaster, Birmingham, Clanton and in Pell City at the PCIFM.

Dr. Alvaro A. Aldana, a cardiologist with Grandview Medical Group. He specializes in intervention with coronary, renal and peripheral vascular disease and is board certified in internal medicine, cardiovascular disease and interventional cardiology. A native of Columbia, he earned his medical degree from Javeriana in Bogotá and completed a fellowship in general and interventional cardiology at St. Francis Hospital in Evanston, Ill. In addition to office hours at Pell City, he sees patients at Alabama Cardiovascular Group in Birmingham and Grandview Medical Group Primary Care and Cardiology Trussville.

Dr. Jay Long, a general surgeon specializing in bariatrics, who sees patients at Birmingham Minimally Invasive Surgery (BMI.com) in Birmingham. Associated with St. Vincent’s East and St. Vincent’s St. Clair, Grandview and PCIFM in Pell City, he provides a one-on-one consultation with all patients to begin their weight-loss journey. He and a multidisciplinary team offers support before and after any surgery with monthly support meetings, nutrition classes and customized high-protein diets.

At Northside Medical Associates, which becomes “Complete Health – Pell City” at the end of August, having specialists on site “helps ensure that the care patients need is convenient, even when being sick is not,” says Clay Barnett, corporate communications manager for Complete Health. It is a primary care medical group Northside joined in October of 2020.

“We strive for easy access and having these groups on our campus certainly makes that a simpler task, especially for our patients who might not be comfortable driving into metro-Birmingham to an intimidating hospital setting,” Barnett adds.

He noted that since Northside joined forces with Birmingham Internal Medicine Associates (BIMA) and Complete Health the group has become the Birmingham area’s leading primary care group. The addition of medical specialists, who lease office space at Northside’s 80,000-square-foot campus on Plaza Drive, complements Northside’s existing state-of-the-art imaging, on-site pharmacy and a 365-day-per-year Urgent Care center serving the people of St. Clair County. The Northside medical practice, founded in 2001 with three physicians, has grown to more than 150 care providers and staff in four medical offices, including Moody, Springville and Trussville.

Northside has more than 12 specialist physicians and practices seeing patients at Pell City offices, says Shelley Gallup, clinical services manager for the practice. The specialist groups lease space within the Pell City facility and respond to referrals from Northside’s 12 physicians and 16 nurse practitioners but are not directly affiliated with Complete Health.

Offering expertise in medical specialties including obstetrics and gynecology, ear, nose and throat, oncology, cardiology, ophthalmology, general surgery, gastroenterology, orthopedics, dermatology, nephrology and podiatry.

Northside Medical Home, which becomes Complete Health-Pell City at the end of August, hosts a multitude of specialties

Now seeing patients in Pell City via Northside and Complete Health are specialists:

Dr. Lewis Schulman, an OB/GYN physician with Grandview Medical Group, who specializes in obstetrical and gynecological care, urinary incontinence management, contraceptive options and hormone therapy.

Dr. Julie Taylor, a board-certified physician in obstetrics and gynecology with Ob-Gyn South and on staff at Brookwood Medical Center and St. Vincent’s St. Clair. Specialties include adolescent medicine, high-risk obstetrics and robotic surgery.

Dr. Justin Aldred, an obstetrician and gynecologist with Ob-Gyn South, has specialties including high-risk obstetrics, laparoscopic/robotic surgery and urinary incontinence.

Dr. Stephen Favrot, an otologist with ENT Associates, treats otologic and general otolaryngologic disorders. His areas of interest include treatment of hearing loss and balance disorders and of tumors of the skull base. He treats children and adults, including cochlear implantation and the bone anchored hearing aid (BAHA).

Dr. E. Scott Elledge, an otolaryngologist with ENT Associates, specializes in head and neck surgery, pediatric ENT, nasal and sinus disorders and allergies.

The campus of Ascension St. Vincent’s St. Clair

Cardiologists with Birmingham Heart Clinic in Birmingham specialize in treating coronary, carotid and peripheral disease with minimally invasive procedures to repair aortic aneurysms (PEVAR), replace aortic valves (TAVR) and transcarotid artery revascularization.

Surgeons from Eastern Surgical Associates of Birmingham specialize in minimally invasive laparoscopic and robotic surgery and operations in the areas of oncology, endocrinology, gastrointestinal disorders and vascular disorders.

Vision First Eye Center is a full-service eye care facility owned by Dr. Mark Bearman and Dr. Mark Mclintock. Vision First’s Pell City office at 74 Plaza Drive, specializes in laser cataract surgery and iDesign guided iLASIK surgery.

Educators’ lasting impact

Story by Joe Whitten
Submitted photos

“Any person or persons who shall attempt to teach any free person of color, or slave, to spell, read, or write, shall upon conviction thereof of indictment be fined in a sum of two hundred and fifty dollars.”

This doleful Alabama law underscores the importance of education. Enacted in 1833, the law aligned with other Antebellum states’ laws which resulted from literate slave Nat Turner’s brief rebellion of 1831. Until then, slaves could be openly taught to read and write. Turner’s Rebellion ended in three days, and he was hanged.

Sometimes referred to as the “Black Moses,” Nat Turner was literate, preached from the Bible and influenced both races. From his rebellion, slave owners realized that educating slaves was dangerous. Therefore, soon after Turner’s execution, slave states began passing laws forbidding educating Blacks – slave or freedmen. Ex-slave Frederick Douglass would later write, “Knowledge makes a man unfit to be a slave.”

So, it’s no wonder that after the Civil War and toward the end of Reconstruction in Alabama (1874), freed slaves began organizing their own churches and schools. Established Dec. 17, 1868, the Alabama Black Baptist Convention urged their members to foster education through the local churches. In his history, Uplifting the People, Three Centuries of Black Baptist in Alabama, Wilson Fallin, Jr., records: “In 1870, the convention advised its churches ‘to build schoolhouses and churches in their own means, declining all union with others, unless absolutely necessary.’”

In St. Clair County, though, Ashville’s Black citizens had the “union” and support of White citizens in establishing the first school for children of former slaves. Old St. Clair County records show that on April 15, 1872, Pope Montgomery and wife deeded to the Methodist Episcopal Church a building to serve as a church and a school for “colored children.” That church was named St. Paul’s and continues today.

About 90 years later, this school evolved into Ashville Colored High School and in 1965 to Ruben High School.

According to Mrs. Bessie Byers’ valuable handwritten history of the school, the 1872 school began with two teachers who “were qualified to teach by having passed the teachers’ examination.” Attendance increased, and in a few years, more teachers were added, and both St. Paul’s Methodist Church and Mt. Zion Baptist Church served as classrooms for grades 1-7. Students sat on the church benches. Potbellied stoves supplied heat, and the men provided the wood and pine knots for starting the fires.

The school had no PTA, but parents and community came together to support education. Mrs. Byers writes, “The parents began having ‘Saturday Nights at the Hall.’ Admission was 25 cents, and every child who came was given 25 cents to spend on goodies, such as parched peanuts, cookies, and drinks. The money collected went to the teachers to purchase blackboards, chalk, erasers, and other necessities.”

These Saturday nights not only provided teachers with essentials but also brought the community together for fellowship. Those attending enjoyed spelling bees, poetry readings, games and singing. This community camaraderie has all but vanished in the whirlwind of today’s business.

As years progressed, music became part of the curriculum. Many of the students had natural musical gifts though they never had lessons. Mrs. Byers wrote of Ila and Eva Byers, “They could play any melody once they’d heard it, although they’d never taken piano lessons. Each day,” she recalled, “a time was set aside when lessons were put aside and every child sang, filling the building with the sound of beautiful old Spirituals.” She mentions that four graduates of Ashville Colored High School formed a quartet called The Happy Four and sang to groups as far away as Chattanooga. If they added a fifth member, they called themselves The Happy Five.

Margaret Bothwell LeFleur, class of 1963, recounted, “We had a little group of us girls called The Red Skirt Gang, and we used to sing the songs of the day – like Sincerely.” Gloria Williams, Gloria Woods, Pauline Mabry, Doris Turner and Margaret sang with the group.

By 1935, the school needed a new building. Mrs. Byers recorded that the County Board of Education, led by Superintendent of Education James Baswell purchased from Jim Beason three acres on the “hilltop known as Jim Beason’s pasture,” where the Board constructed a three-room frame building.

“It was a neat building,” she wrote, “painted white, with large classrooms and numerous windows. It was known as Ashville Colored High School, with grades one through 12.” The new school had running water but no lunchroom. Attendance grew quickly and the board added two more rooms. Five teachers gave instruction.

Earlier times

Let’s go back to1897 for a moment, for that year in Ashville was born to Wash and Sarah Yancy a baby boy they named Ruben. Sarah Yancy’s 1963 obituary lists Ruben’s siblings: Della Mostella, Gordan Yancy and Myrtis Noble. Ruben was the one destined to move Ashville’s Black school forward in the 1940s when he was known as “Professor Yancy,” principal of Ashville Colored High School.

Information about Professor Yancy remains scant. Where he attended college seems a mystery, although 91-year-old Boone Turner recalls that Professor had several college degrees and “When school was out for the summer, he would take off to Chicago and take up classes.”

He probably started at Millers Ferry, Wilcox County. He was teaching there when at age 21, he enlisted in the U.S. Army on Sept. 28, 1918. Teachers were exempt from registering, but he patriotically enlisted. However, the war ended less than two months later, and he received an honorable discharge on Dec. 26, 1918.

Just where he taught after the war and what year he arrived in Ashville to teach is elusive. By 1947, Professor Yancy had been appointed principal of Ashville Colored High School. Some local senior citizens recall him well. Joe Lee Bothwell recalled, “When he told you to do something, he meant it. He was all about you learning.” Boone Turner said, “I can tell you he was a good man. He was the principal of the school and taught classes.” His influence was on both Black and White communities, Boone said. When White parents whose children needed tutoring in math, they sent them to him for tutoring. Jay Richey, whose dad, J.W. “Shag” Richey, principal of Ashville High School and later St. Clair superintendent of education, recalls hearing stories of the math tutoring and how “extremely intelligent” Professor Yancy was.

As a well-educated, hometown man, Professor Yancy was respected throughout Ashville. Mrs. Byers observed that he “commanded the respect” of both students and parents. He also knew his students deserved a better school building with a lunchroom and library, and he set to work to bring that dream to fruition. “White citizens of Ashville,” Mrs. Byers wrote, “helped Mr. Yancy plan the new building,” which took several years.

When Professor Yancy’s health forced him to retire, Lloyd Newton took over as Principal. On Feb. 26, 1958, Professor Yancy died, never seeing the fruit of his labor.

The community’s love for him moved them to successfully petition the board of education to rename the school for him. Therefore, at the dedication of the new building, Dec. 15, 1965, they changed the name from Ashville Colored High School to Ruben Yancy High School.

Eloise Williams recalled that after integration there was a move to change the school’s name, but Brother Clifford Thomas led the way in gathering petition signatures to present to the board of education to keep the name Ruben Yancy. The board approved. The school served the middle school for some years and now serves alternative education students.

Under Professor Yancy’s photograph in the dedication day program appears these words: “The school is being renamed in honor of the late Prof. Ruben Yancy who was a native of Ashville and principal of Ashville Colored High School from 1947 to 1956. Because of his humanitarian efforts, the community has grown and become a better place to live. His life was an exemplification of all that is embodied in ‘The Teacher’s Creed.’”

Another legend

Professor Lloyd Newton’s education career in St. Clair County made him a legend not only in Ruben Yancy High School but also in the integrated Ashville Elementary School.

Lloyd’s father was a cotton farmer in Sumter County, according to a retirement article in The Anniston Star, Aug. 11, 1985. His mother died when he was three and his father married again.

Professor Lloyd Newton

Erroll Newton, Lloyd’s son, recalled that after his dad graduated from high school, he lived with relatives in Fairfield, where several other relatives lived and worked. One of his aunts recognized Lloyd’s scholastic aptitude and introduced him to the president of Miles College. He enrolled in Miles, lived with his aunt and worked his way through college.

The United States had entered World War II, and Lloyd joined the Navy where he was a first class motor machinist mate for four years. Erroll Newton says of his dad, “During WWII, the military was beginning to integrate all branches of service, and it was in the Navy that he developed his skill as an instructor.” According to the Anniston Star, “After working for Seaboard Railroad, the Navy, and (attending) Wayne State University in Michigan, he landed back in Alabama.” “It was after being discharged after WWII that he began his odyssey to further his career,” Erroll said. “He worked as railroad porter in the Ford Foundry and the Fairfield Foundry, and continuing college in Michigan.”

“Back in Alabama,” Erroll continued, “He ran a nightclub in Fairfield a while before Dr. Bell, president of Miles College, gave him a reference to teach veterans in St. Clair County. A St. Clair News-Aegis article of Nov. 14, 1991, states that Professor Newton returned to his home state in 1947 and that he spent 37 years in St. Clair County education.

Teaching veterans seems to be the beginning of his education career in St. Clair County, but at some point, he began teaching for Professor Yancy and taught until he became principal and was known as “Professor Newton.”

Thousands of children profited from his teaching and mentoring, and each has a memory, as does his son, Erroll, who spoke for himself and his deceased brothers Lloyd, Jr., and Paul when he said, “To me he was just ‘Dad.’ With me not having a mom, he played both roles, and he did a good job. When we came along, he kind of took the reins off, so to speak. It was like, ‘If you want to advance, I’m setting an example for you. You choose your own way, though.’ He was Dad; that was him to me.” And later he was Granddad to Terrell, Chery, Shawn (deceased) and Ryan and several great-grandchildren.

Margaret Bothwell LeFleur credits her teachers and Professor Lloyd Newton at Ashville Colored High School for much of her own success in teaching. 

Margaret LeFleur at 75th birthday

“All of our teachers were dedicated,” Margaret recalled. “Mrs. Marcelline Bell taught seventh- through 12th-grade English. We had textbooks, but we didn’t have a library. But she taught us the Dewey Decimal System even though we had no library to use that knowledge in. However, when I went to Bethune Cookman College, I knew how to use that system in a real library! Our teachers knew what we needed, and they did their best to compensate for the deficiencies.”

Margaret’s dad drove her to Attalla twice a week for piano lessons for there was no Black piano teacher in Ashville. She progressed quickly, and as a seventh-grader played for high school graduation. She accompanied the school choir, which Professor Newton directed. In college she majored in music, which led to her career of teaching music in the schools of St. Paul, Minn.

After Margaret’s mom bought her a typewriter and instruction book, Professor Newton helped her learn typing, and she became an office assistant to him during her high school years.

Eloise Williams remembers Professor Newton as one who “set examples for the kids, and he and the teachers did a good job educating us.” She recalled that he disciplined when misbehavior called for it.

She also knew him as the principal of Ashville Elementary School where her son attended the integrated school. “When the law passed,” she said, “the school had to integrate. Our kids had a hard time. The Whites weren’t used to the Blacks, and the Blacks weren’t used to the Whites. It was new thing for all of them. It didn’t work for a while, but then it smoothed out, and they began to get along with each other.” Mrs. Williams is lovingly known as “Sister Ella” in Ashville today.

Most folk from the 1960s years agree that Professor Newton’s respect by both races, his professional demeanor, and his calm guidance helped ease tensions of integration in Ashville.

When Ruben Yancy ceased being a Black school in 1969, the County Board placed Professor Newton over the elementary grades at Ashville High School (grades K-12) where J. W. “Shag” Richey served as principal. When he moved to the central office of the county board, Mr. Keener became principal of Ashville High School and Professor Newton, principal of Ashville Elementary School, where he served until he retired in 1985.

Jay Richey said of Professor Newton, “He was first class, and a loyal school man to my daddy, and I loved him dearly. Whatever job needed to be done, Mr. Newton did it well.” 

Recalling his father’s career, Erroll added that his “Dad considered Superintendent D.O. Langston a great asset to him” during his administration, and his “faculty members assisted him over the years.” He also mentioned the love of his “endless number of students.”

Professor Newton’s students and teachers hold his memory dear. Maurice Crim started teaching for Professor Newton in 1957 and described him as “a man of integrity who was very supportive of his teachers. There were no problems for we all got along well there.”

“He had a deep booming voice that made you automatically respect him,” student Joy Walker Raysaid. Others, too, recalled his voice and his love of singing.

Glorine Williams became his daughter-in-law when she married Erroll Newton. “Growing up, I remember Mr. Newton coming to my home, and he always talked about the importance of education, attending school and doing your best no matter what. He believed in helping students, and he didn’t show favoritism with anyone. Everyone was treated equal.”

His teachers at Ashville Elementary speak fondly of him. “Mr. J.W. Richey hired me,” recalls Beth Jones, “but Mr. Newton was my first principal. I remember ‘the Professor,’ as Mr. Richey affectionately called him, as a strict father to his teachers. He also had a firm but kind rapport with his students.

“My first year, I had 43 fourth-graders. That year, Mr. Newton reminded me of something very important. The two of us were standing in the hallway at dismissal time, trying to find ways to get poster projects home. There was one last poster with no way to get it home,” she said.

Margaret Jane
Williams Bothwell

“As a new teacher and taking this lighter than I should, Mr. Newton chided me; for that last poster, even though not the best, demanded the same respect as any other. That poster was his work and important to the child. The child who made it was important. As a young, impressionable teacher, I never forgot Mr. Newton’s words to me, words that colored my entire career.”

Susan Kell also has memories of the professor. “When Mr. Newton came to Ashville elementary, I was teaching first grade. I later became librarian and worked with him until his retirement.

“Mr. Newton cared deeply for the Ashville community, especially the young children of Ashville Elementary. The 1970s were before school nurses, so he took care of the sick and all the playground ‘boo-boos.’ He once removed a tick from a child’s ear.

“This, however, is one of my favorite Mr. Newton stories. There was a disturbance in the lunchroom, so I walked to the table to investigate. I heard, ‘Is too.’ ‘Is not.’ ‘We do.’ ‘Do not.’ I asked, ‘What is the problem?’ and a child replied, ‘We do have a school doctor, and there he is,’ as Mr. Newton walked into the lunchroom.”

“He wore many hats other than principal – teacher, friend, counselor, singer, and yes, medical doctor!”

Professor Newton retired in 1986 and continued his influence in St. Clair County through the Alabama Retired Teachers Association, serving on the Committee for Protective Services, and in service to his church.

As a man of Christian faith, Professor Newton served as deacon and Sunday school teacher at Mt. Zion Baptist in Ashville. Well known for his basso profundo voice, he sang in the church choir and often sang solo.

Combining his love of singing with his love of children, one wonders if when he arrived at the empty school some mornings, he may have voiced the old children’s gospel refrain:

Jesus loves the little children,

All the children of the world,

 Red and yellow, black and white

 They are precious in His sight,

Jesus loves the children of the world.

“Children are the greatest thing in my life,” Professor Newton told Viveca Novak of The Anniston Star, and his loving influence continues in the multitude of lives that he touched in his lifetime.

Professor Newton, St. Clair County thanks you.

T.K. Thorne

Springville author pulls back curtain on untold stories of Civil Rights Movement

Story by Scottie Vickery
Photos by Graham Hadley
Submitted photos

Author T.K. Thorne was just a baby when her mother and grandmother attended secret meetings of White residents who were willing to drive Blacks to work during the bus boycott in Montgomery. It was a bold move – and a dangerous one – during a time when the Ku Klux Klan ruled with threats and violence.

“After one meeting, a cross was burned in my grandparents’ yard,” Thorne said. “My grandfather, who was a very gentle man, borrowed a shotgun and sat up all night. It was not until years later that I learned of my grandmother and mother’s courageous stance for civil rights.”

Although her family’s story didn’t make the pages of her newly released book, Behind the Magic Curtain: Secrets, Spies, and Unsung White Allies of Birmingham’s Civil Rights Days

(NewSouth Books), Thorne shares many little-known or untold stories of White citizens who quietly or boldly influenced social change.

“Much of the truth of Birmingham in the civil rights era is ugly, plain and simple. This book is not an attempt to revise that truth,” Thorne wrote in the book’s introduction. “The darkness, however, is always what allows the light. And in Birmingham’s darkness, individual lights grew – some from shades of gray that bloomed into sparks, some lanterns of courage.”

Thorne, who lives with her husband, Roger, on 40 acres on Straight Mountain just above Springville, said she was first approached via email by four Birmingham men – Bill Thomason, Karl Friedman, Doug Carpenter and former Birmingham News reporter and photographer Tom Lankford – about writing the book. They wanted to tell the stories “of those who worked for peace and racial progress under extraordinary circumstances in extraordinary times,” she wrote in the book’s preface.

That led to eight years of intense research, during which she interviewed 50 people, read numerous books, combed the archives of several newspapers and watched many video interviews in the Birmingham Civil Rights Museum’s collection. The process seemed overwhelming at times, and the book includes 682 footnotes, which, along with the bibliography, take up 32 pages.

“The research and writing were interwoven,” she said. “One would make me have to do the other. The biggest challenge was the time frame. I had all these vignettes, but I felt it was my responsibility to use them in a chronological way that made sense.”

During the writing process, Thorne said she realized just how much we can learn from history. “There were some power players who made a huge difference, and there were other players, like women who were not in powerful business positions, who found ways to make an impact,” she said. “The lesson to me is that it doesn’t matter who you are, you can make a real difference.”

Finding her voice

The path to author was a winding one for Thorne, who grew up as Teresa Katz in Montgomery. Her father, Warren Katz, taught her to question everything, and her mother, Jane Katz, was the state chairperson for the League of Women Voters. Her mother exemplified, among other things, the principle that “one’s primary responsibility in life is to make the world a better place,” according to Thorne.

T.K. Thorne, far left, at 4 years old playing in a swimming pool made out of an old tire and tarp in 1958 at the home of Civil Rights leaders Bob and Jean Graetz. Bob Graetz was a White minister of a Black congregation and joked that this was “the first integrated swimming pool in Montgomery,” Thorne said.

After abandoning her childhood dream of becoming an astronaut in order to meet aliens, Thorne briefly considered a career as a writer after her grandmother, Dorothy Merz Lobman, helped her fall in love with books and stories. “By the time I was 15, I knew that was where my heart was, but I also knew making a living at that was a longshot,” she said.

Thorne, 67, eventually earned a master’s degree in social work from the University of Alabama, and after landing a job as a grant writer for the Birmingham Police Department in 1996, she was tasked with applying for funding for a computer-aided dispatch program. In order to better understand the need, she rode along with police officers. The grant was awarded, the department got its first computer, and Thorne applied for the police academy.

“I enjoyed not knowing what was going to happen next,” she said. “I just wanted to try it. I had no idea it would turn into a career.” She served more than 20 years with the department, working as a patrol officer and detective and climbing the ranks before retiring as captain of the North Precinct and becoming executive director of Birmingham’s City Action Partnership, a position she held for 17 years.

Through it all, she never stopped writing. Her first three books were published while she was still juggling the demands of a full-time career, which she left in 2016. She’s published two award-winning historical novels, Noah’s Wife and Angels at the Gate, and the first two books in a trilogy (House of Rose and House of Stone) are set in Birmingham and feature heroine Rose Brighton, a police detective who discovers she is a witch.

Her first nonfiction endeavor, Last Chance for Justice, focuses on the investigation of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in 1963. Thorne said she thought that book was the reason she was approached by the four men – three of whom died before the book was published – about writing Behind the Magic Curtain.

“I asked them if they were making the mistake to think that I was a civil rights expert because I wrote that book, because that wasn’t true,” she said. Instead, Bill Thomason told her it was her Noah’s Wife that convinced him she was author for the job. “He said, ‘Anybody who could write about a woman who has been dead for thousands of years and make me believe that’s how it happened can write this book,’” Thorne said with a laugh.

Pulling back the curtain

She wasn’t convinced she’d take on the project until she read some of the notes Lankford had written during his time covering the Civil Rights Movement. Lankford, who passed away in late 2020, was a controversial journalist who was embedded with law enforcement and worked with local police and FBI agents in secret wiretapping and intelligence operations.

In addition to his detailed notes and journals, he had an amazing memory, Thorne said, adding that the first notes he shared made the decision to write the book much easier. “I was hooked,” she said. “I was just so intrigued, and I realized this man was on the in-inside. That began the journey of researching this book.”

As captivated as she was, Thorne was also a little wary. “That I relied extensively on (Lankford’s) memories and notes does not mean that I endorse all his methods or actions,” she wrote in the book’s preface. Despite the controversy surrounding his methods, Thorne said Lankford’s unique perspective gave him the ability to document the events of the time in a way no one else could.

“I think the closest thing I could say about what motivated him is that he was driven by wanting to tell the truth,” Thorne said. “He admitted to me that he crossed the line as a journalist; he was too close to his subject matter. But he said, ‘I wouldn’t take a bit of it back.’”

While researching the book, Thorne relied on the skills she learned in the police department. “The job of a detective is to discover what the truth is and trying to tell it without bias,” she said. Many of the truths she discovered involved White leaders of the Jewish, Christian, business and education communities; others were just White citizens who followed their hearts. Regardless of their standing in the community, they all “quietly and moderately or openly and boldly” worked for change.

The following vignettes are among those she shared:

Karl Friedman, an attorney and one of the men who approached her about writing the book, “had many deep friendships across the color line,” Thorne said. One of those friends was J. Mason Davis, a young Black civil rights attorney. Friedman and attorney Jack Held often ate lunch out of the courthouse’s vending machine with Davis, who wasn’t allowed in a downtown restaurant. Later, all three became partners at Sirote & Permutt, of which Friedman was a founding partner. Friedman hosted many meetings of Black leaders at his home, and a bullet was shot through the front window as a result.

Eileen Walbert knocked on doors in the Black Rosedale community of Homewood to encourage the residents to help integrate the White schools. She picked the children up and took them to school and often brought them home with her so they could swim in her backyard pool. Having a cross burned in her yard and receiving threatening calls from KKK members did not deter her. “I was learning how to be brave,” she said in a 2014 interview with the Homewood Star. “A bully, if you let them know you’re not scared, they’ll back off.”

Paul Couch, a detective with the Mountain Brook Police Department, was moved to action on his day off when he heard about the murder of 13-year-old Virgil Ware, who was killed the afternoon of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing that killed four young girls. Virgil was riding on the handlebars of his brother’s bicycle when two 16-year-old White boys on a red motorcycle shot him with a .22 pistol. Couch followed a hunch and drove around the Fultondale area to look for the shooters, Thorne said. After he copied down the motorcycle’s tag number, the case was solved in two days. The shooters received probation.

White people in a green car came to the aid of James Ware after his brother was shot. After seeing James on the road with Virgil’s body, they asked the teenager if there was anything they could do to help. James asked them to go find his mother and bring her to the scene, which they did. More than three decades later, James still remembered the act and said, “I would like to thank the White people in the green car – whoever they are, for helping me and my family that night.”

A quiet home

Thorne wrote the book from her mountaintop home, a beautiful place that reminds her of her childhood visits to Virginia and Clifford Durr’s farm at “Pea Level” on Corn Creek in Wetumpka. The Durrs were longtime family friends, and she has many special memories of the cabin there, including the time she sat on the front porch with Rosa Parks, whose refusal to give up her seat on the bus sparked the Montgomery bus boycott. Clifford Durr, an attorney, was one of the men who bailed Parks out of jail and later served as her counsel.

For the most part, though, Thorne remembers the fun she had playing in the creek and climbing on the nearby boulders. “That was my favorite place in the world,” she said. That’s why, when a real estate agent showed them the land and the nearby Locust Fork of the Black Warrior River, Thorne was sold. “We’re going to live here,” she told her husband.

It proved to be the perfect spot to quarantine, finish the book and reflect on the lessons she’s learned and the impact she hopes it will make.

“The main thing I learned is it’s complicated,” she said. “We are wired as human beings to want the simple story. We want heroes and bad guys. That simplified version of history is an illusion, though, and that is true of all history. We need to learn from that because if we can understand our history, we can better determine our present and our future.”

How sweet it is!

Ice Cream parlor making comeback on St. Clair’s main streets

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller and Carol Pappas
Photos by Carol Pappas and Wallace Bromberg Jr.

Ice cream dripping down your chin, blackberry cobbler stuck between your teeth. How sweet it is to enjoy these fruits of summer, especially at St. Clair County’s two new ice cream shops. Sweet Sue’s Ice Cream Shop in Pell City and Laster’s Sundries by The Farmhouse in Springville are providing summer treats year ‘round on each side of the mountain. How sweet is that?

Laster’s Sundries has been a fixture on Springville’s Main Street since 1927, when Lee and Otis (Ma) Laster opened it as a drug store, soda fountain, ice cream parlor and gift shop. It has gone through several owners in its 94-year history, and even sat empty for a few years, but it’s back in business now as Laster’s Sundries by the Farmhouse. Owners Bryan and Brandi Zargo also own The Farmhouse on nearby Purple Heart Boulevard. That’s where they do a lot of the prepping of the sandwiches they sell.

 My husband saw that the building was for rent, recognized an opportunity, and said, ‘Let’s do it!’” Brandi Zargo says. “The nostalgia was part of the appeal of the place.”

Laster’s is full of nostalgia, all right. The soda fountain was bought from Robert M. Green & Sons of Philadelphia, Penn., for $2,125. There are two hand-carved, walnut backbars and companion cabinets out of a Mississippi saloon. The old fountain is made of black and white marble with an elaborate mahogany shelf and mirror behind it. Two ionic columns flank the mirror, and egg and dart molding surround it.

Old-fashioned wire ice cream tables and chairs provide much of the seating, in front of antique mahogany floor-to-ceiling showcases that formerly housed a “wide range of gifts for every occasion,” including birthdays, weddings, baby showers, etc., according to a copy of an early menu that is now displayed in one of the cases. Collectibles, such as Fitz & Floyd, Boyd’s Bears, Harmony Kingdom, Dezine Fairies, Christmas collectibles and decorations, chess sets, Galileo thermometers and more were available at one time, and the original Laster’s even had a bridal registry.

Today, those gift items are gone, but there are many souvenirs left on display, including some old medicine bottles, newspaper clippings about the place and several photographs of smiling faces about to be smeared with ice cream. One shows a group of Little Leaguers lined up on the red-and-white Coca-Cola bar stools, while another shows a mixed group of girls and boys peering over the counter.

Charlotte and Juliette Steele enjoy an after school treat at Laster’s.

The Zargos hand-dip Blue Bell ice cream and serve it by the cone or by the cup. Sensitive to the needs of their customers, they started washing their ice cream scoops between servings when one customer with a peanut allergy pointed out that some of their frozen stuff contained nuts. “We hope to get some sugar-free and even dairy-free ice cream choices soon,” Brandi says. “Bryan likes to adapt to the season, too, the way we do at the Farmhouse, so we’ll be adding some soups for the fall. We’ll also be serving coffee soon.”

Laster’s has always served ice cream, and Zargo wanted to keep that aspect of the business. But he knew that ice cream wasn’t enough to keep him afloat, so to speak. He wanted to maintain consistent hours, too, so he decided to add sandwiches to the mix. “He put a question out on What’s Happening in Springville (Facebook page) that asked what people wanted for Springville,” Brandi says. “Many folks mentioned a sandwich shop.”

Laster’s serves almost a dozen different sandwiches, and Bryan seems to come up with a new one each week. The menu includes Laster’s Club (smoked turkey, ham, provolone and cheddar), Blackened Chicken Salad (a mixture of smokehouse chicken with chopped pecans, creole mayonnaise and red grapes on ciabatta bread), Zargo’s own take on the traditional tuna melt and BLT, as well as a Smokehouse Ruben and Grilled Pimento Cheese sandwich. Each can be accompanied by potato chips, broccoli slaw, pasta salad or a cup of fruit. Canned soft drinks, tea and lemonade make up the drink list. Bryan’s brownies and cookies are available, too. In the deli area, Laster’s sells their sides and Boar’s Head meats and cheeses by the pint, quart and pound.

A former minor-league baseball player and ex-Marine, Bryan went to culinary school at Virginia College and worked at the Fish Market in Birmingham and The Club, then became executive chef at Bellini’s in Shelby County before opening The Farmhouse and then Laster’s Sundries. The Farmhouse opened a year ago in the midst of the COVID pandemic, but has done well, according to Brandi.

Sweet Sue’s

Jenny Alverson and husband Richard knew they wanted to open a business, but they weren’t quite sure what it would be.

But when they saw the historic building for rent on Pell City’s downtown main street, Cogswell Avenue, it sparked a nostalgic whim, and Sweet Sue’s Ice Cream Shop was born.

“We fell in love with the idea of ice cream – old-timey sundaes and banana splits – things you couldn’t find anymore,” Jenny says. The concept fit perfectly inside the historic 1890 structure thought to be Pell City’s first brick building.

The building was perfect, too, with its exposed brick walls, outdoor seating and plenty of room for colorfully painted booths and tables inside – just like an old-fashioned ice cream parlor.

And it certainly fit as an age-old tradition. When you think of celebrations and gatherings, she says, ice cream usually plays a starring role. “Ice cream just seems happy.”

She and Richard grew up in the smaller towns of Odenville and Ashville, so they knew Pell City well. “We went to Pell City for all the important stuff,” Jenny recalls. “St. Clair County feels like home.”

Since opening May 6, the Alversons, along with their children who help out – Shannon, Kaylan, Mayli and Thomas – have added to the menu.

Pimento cheese and chicken salad sandwiches, nachos, hotdogs, sausage dogs, barbecue salads and pork sliders offer fare for another eatery in downtown Pell City. “We haven’t made an actual menu yet,” she says. “We’re seeing what works.”

Coffee is coming later and probably old-fashioned lemonade. “We’re doing it slowly to see how it all goes,” she says.

So far, so good. The staple, of course, is ice cream with dozens of flavors – waffle cones, cups and even a “bubble waffle,” which is warm on the inside, crispy on the outside and tastes like a waffle with ice cream nestled inside. For a smaller sweet tooth, baby bubbles are available, too!

For Jenny, the ice cream shop brings back precious memories from childhood, when her grandmother used to take her for a treat. It also reminds her of being able to feed a family without breaking the pocketbook. With four children of her own, she knows the value of taking them somewhere special and still being able to treat them all for under $10 just like her father did with her and her four siblings.

Judging by the response as customers stream in and out, Sweet Sue’s is as popular as the Blue Bell ice cream it serves. “We couldn’t ask for a better community. The support the community has given us and the excitement they have shown that we’re open have been huge.

“We wanted to make people happy with something fun. No matter what kind of day they’re having, ice cream can just change everything.” l