Saving Chandler Mountain

Once historic enemies join forces to keep a proposed dam project off the mountain

Story by Paul South
Photos by Mackenzie Free and Leo Galleo

When Seth C. Penn ponders Chandler Mountain, he thinks of the Indigenous peoples who walked the mountaintop 6,000 years before Christ trod the earth.

Darrell Hyatt thinks of generations of his family, who yanked a living from the mountain’s rich soil. The Hyatts came to the area when the only way to navigate the mountain was by wagon, horseback or on foot.

And Joe Whitten, an amateur historian and retired educator who came to St. Clair County in 1961, hiked from the base to the top of the mountain at age 80 and plans to do so again, even at 85.

Their backgrounds are different, but the three men share a love for the mountain and an understanding of the importance of the successful battle to fend off an Alabama Power proposal to build dams there. It was a plan that would have flooded the valley, displaced families and damaged sacred sites and archaeological treasures.

Community comes together for common cause

While bluegrass music at Horse Pens 40 and tomatoes – the area’s iconic signature crop – sprout in the minds of most Alabamians when the name, Chandler Mountain, is mentioned, make no mistake, it is holy ground.

According to Penn, Southeastern Region coordinator for the Indian Nations Conservation Alliance and a citizen of the Cherokee Tribe of Northeast Alabama, all land is sacred for Indigenous peoples, regardless of location. But the mountain is unique.

“Chandler Mountain is an area where tribal territories met,” Penn said. “This was a place inhabited by several different tribes, Cherokee people and Muskogean people as well. This is an area where you could see different looking people, different looking tribes, different languages. That makes the mountain unique unto itself.”

There are archaeological and ecological features on the mountain sacred to the tribes.

“How the water flows, the hydrologic buildup, makeup and processes are important ecologically and also sacred, considering the values of water, plant life and animals,” he said.

Prayers and other ceremonies were conducted on the mountain. And while the story may be apocryphal, it is said that Chandler Mountain is the only place where a peace treaty was signed between the Cherokee and Creek tribes.

“I have never seen that document,” Penn said. “So as far as the credibility of that, it’s very debatable and very questionable. So, my response to that would be, I’d like to see that happen in present time, so that an actual treaty exists.”

One piece of ancient history that does exist are the rock formations, stone structures and Cherokee pictographs, rock art that native peoples may have painted with their fingertips, according to a report by Dr. Harry Holstein, a professor of Chemistry and Geosciences at Jacksonville State University.

These drawings and structures, as well as the stars, all play into the ceremonial and governmental history of the mountain and its ancient inhabitants, Penn said.

“This is a place where we might go to higher ground in search of a spiritual connection. It’s a place where territories met. So, at times we might meet in council-like setting, where topics might be discussed among our tribe or with other tribes even. Trades could also take place,” Penn said.

From a spiritual perspective, he added, “The whole sacred, ceremonial prayer aspect of events that took place – with certain rock features facing certain directions, certain astrological features in line with certain features, that all plays into the ceremonial aspect of it.”

A Family’s Story

With all their earthly belongings, John Hyatt and his wife arrived on horseback from Hurt County, Ga., and settled near the Horse Pens area in 1875, where they homesteaded 120 acres.

“There have been Hyatts on that end of Chandler Mountain ever since,” said John Hyatt’s great-grandson, Darrell.

He lives near the base of the mountain. He can recite his family’s history like a precocious schoolboy. John Hyatt’s brother, Otis, was the first person to farm the tasty Chandler Mountain tomatoes.

But the mountain is about more than tomatoes. Darrell has lived in the Chandler Mountain Valley since 1969, and at his current homestead since 1981. There, he reared his children.

At one time, he pondered moving his family out west. But the tug of home was too strong, the ties too deep. In his family, Darrell has always been known as “the man who came back to the mountain.”

Artifacts found tell story of Native-Americans living on land

“I always knew this mountain was different,” he said. “We could never pull ourselves away. It’s not just the family history. It goes back thousands of years.”

He found paleo-points on the mountain, and he and his wife found the pictographs. In turn, they brought Holstein as well as a rock expert from the University of Tennessee.

“Dr. Holstein said this was the most significant archaeological find on the upper Coosa River drainage area,” Hyatt said.

That archaeological find played a significant role in the defeat of the Alabama Power project.

What would have been the impact of the project if it had moved forward? Often, before Alabama Power shelved the plan, Darrell imagined his last day in his beloved valley, where his kids grew up and where he walked the mountain, climbed its rocks and contemplated the world in solitude.

One of the dams would have been built within 1,000 feet of his home. Rocky Hollow, the Mount Lebanon Cemetery, a number of archeological treasures and dozens of families would have been washed away.

The Hiker

Darrell remembers the first time he and Joe Whitten hiked the mountain, following Steele Gap Road. Whitten was 80.

“Joe, are you ready to stop?,” he would ask.

“Where’s the top?,” Whitten replied. Hyatt pointed upward.

“Let’s go,” Whitten said. And they did. “I think I can do it again,” he added.

Whitten talks of the importance of Chandler Mountain to the quality of life of St. Clair County and to its economy.

“It was in a remote section of the county that the pioneers made a beautiful place of,” Whitten said. “As time progressed, they tried various fruits. They grew peaches there for a time, but the tomatoes made the mountain famous.”

The Alliance

Two groups that history saw often at odds, the Indigenous tribes and new settlers of the 19th century, joined with the City of Steele and Montgomery politicians to fight the utility. The fight continues because the utility still owns significant acreage there.

In the face of opposition from locals, as well as Public Service Commission President Twinkle Cavanaugh, Alabama Power Company scrapped its plans to build a hydroelectric storage project and remove homeowners from Chandler Mountain in August 2023. The utility withdrew its efforts to seek a license from the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission.

In these politically fractured times, is there a lesson to be learned from the alliance that fought it?

Flat top of mountain a distinctive characteristic

“Absolutely,” Darrell said. “This community in my eyes was starting to lose itself. (The dam project) pulled everybody together.”

In local folklore, it’s told that John Hyatt built the market road down the backside of the mountain near what’s now U.S. 231, in an area known as Hyatt’s Gap. And the mountain can be seen from Alabama’s highest peak, Mount Cheaha.

“It’s very distinct,” he said. “And I think the Native Americans saw that, too. It’s sacred. Very sacred to them.”

Whitten said that even in these difficult days, the successful effort to block the project, “shows there can be unity. Peoples can come together and work together on projects that are needful to the community and the county and the state.”

He added, “What is there is important to the state as well, because it’s part of our Indigenous history.”

Penn agreed. “Obviously, it’s an ancestral holy place for an Indigenous person,” he said. “But because of those thousands of years of prayers building a foundation for a sacred setting, it’s just as much a sacred place for that farmer who says a prayer while he’s out there planting or harvesting. It’s a sacred place to that family who comes together and prays before a meal every time they eat dinner. It’s a sacred place and a significant place to many people.

“While our significance to the mountain and the sacredness of the mountain predates the settlers, I don’t want to discredit that it’s important to many of them as well in present time.”

Of the alliance, Penn said, “We’re a whole lot better when we can put differences aside and find common ground and work together regardless of backgrounds, faiths or political affiliations.

“Chandler Mountain is a unique situation in that we can come together. We have done that, and I’d like to see this initiative grow. I’d like to see Alabama Power realize, ‘Look, we had wrong intentions here. This isn’t where we need to do this. We just need to pull out and let go and give this mountain back to the people who truly care about it. And that is the Indigenous people and that is the local Chandler Mountain Community. That is our mountain and should be our mountain. That’s how I feel about it.”

 “Alabama Power does not have any plans for the Chandler Mountain property,” said Alabama Power spokesperson Joey Blackwell in an email response in April.

When Alabama Power announced it had scuttled its proposal, there were celebrations on Chandler Mountain. Hyatt and his family celebrated with dinner at an area Mexican restaurant.

There was joy. “And there were tears,” he said. “More than a few tears.”

Fall on the Farm

Pumpkins and peanuts and handcrafts, oh my!

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Richard Rybka

The smell of caramel popcorn, the sounds of children laughing, the sea of tents filled with handmade crafts. There’s nothing like a fall festival to entertain you on a cool, crisp Saturday, especially one like Fall on the Farm on Chandler Mountain.

Held at Smith’s Tomato Farm, this year’s event — the seventh — featured all of the above plus good, old-fashioned guitar and banjo picking for entertainment. It doesn’t get much better than this!

“We just wanna do something for the community, where families can come out and enjoy the day with no admission charge,” said Kista Lowe, manager of Smith Tomato Farm. “We just want families to come have a good time.”

At the entrance to the festival, fall displays such as a rusty Farmall tractor with pumpkins and a scarecrow beside it provided the perfect place for a family photo shoot. Two giant John Deere 200 h.p.+ tractors normally used in the tomato fields were parked nearby.

Esther Smith mans her booth at the event

Carrying the farm theme even further, a “tractor track” allowedtots to ride old toy tractors within the confines of a pumpkin “patch.” A bench at one end provided another photo op, with its backdrop of a slatted wood fence piece bearing a sign reading, “Hello Pumpkins.” Squeals and giggles of delight came from the two inflatable slides nearby.

Kristin Simpson painted smiling faces in her Starshine Faces booth near rows of potted mums in garnet, yellow and white, for sale at $30 a pot. Turning the corner, the familiar smells of festival foods made you hungry, no matter when you last ate breakfast. And the sight of all those crafts made you wish you had left your wallet at home, because you knew you weren’t going to get away without spending some money.

As you turned the corner, the hum of a portable generator provided a backdrop against a cacophony of bargaining voices, squeals of delight, and questions of, “How much does that cost?” Aromas of caramel popcorn and grilled meat filled the air, and the longest line was at the big booth serving tamales, asada (strips of grilled beef) and grilled chicken on quesadillas, tacos and more.

“Our (farm) crew leader’s wife did the asada booth to benefit the family of a little girl hit and killed while waiting on a school bus in Oneonta recently,” said Kista Lowe. “Her family worked on another farm in Blount County. Our crew chief is Pepe Gonzales, and his wife is Estella.”

Although Lowe said the number of vendors was down slightly this year, you couldn’t tell it from gazing at the rows of tents lined up. Some 2,000-3,000 people shopped with vendors selling jewelry, T-shirts and hoodies, water color art, pottery, candles and hand-woven dish towels. The latter sold for $15 each, with several woven on-the-spot by Marcia Wells of Springville. She brought along her loom to demonstrate her craft. “I have several more looms at home, including four I inherited from my mother,” Wells said.

Other booths sold “Welcome” signs for porches, sarapes and ponchos with western art in their designs and brightly-colored Mexican ceramics. Brown Hat Bakery, a north Gadsden establishment, contributed to the sweet aromas of baked goods at another booth.

Fall and Christmas wreaths, handmade stuffed animals, hand-decorated tumblers, caramel and chocolate-covered apples, T’s Nuts (key lime, Cajun, garlic, Parmesan, coconut rum flavors) and Woodcraft30 of Fosters, AL, with its signs, and Christmas ornaments, were lined up nearby.

Moon’s Resin Designsoffered trinket trays, tarot boards, charcuterie boards, plus birdhouses made of gourds. Jessica Wade of Bee Leaf of Springville sold candles of beeswax and soaps made with honey. Beau Blossom Blowof Springville had skull-shaped flicker lights. Run by Amethyst Blow and Jeremy Varden, who are raising money for their wedding, the business got its name from the nickname Amethyst’s grandfather used for her.

Bluegrass band turns out to entertain

Tiffany Tibbs of Odenville manned the booth called His Grace Creations, which featured embroidered gifts and apparel such as baby bibs, tees and home decor. This was Tibbs’ third year at the festival. Embroidering, she said, is “a hobby that pays me a little bit.”

Dorrie’s Salvage Art, fromTalladega County, featured decorative signs such as smiling pumpkins, prancing roosters and a cabin in the woods painted on wood planks, not to mention banana gourds, egg gourds and birdhouse gourds transformed into Christmas ornaments and, guess what? Birdhouses!

 “This is our first time here,“ said Dorrie, whose husband helps in the business. “A fellow vendor from the Rustic Bucket (another festival) in Odenville told me about it.” Fall on the Farm was well worth her time. “I’m a hoarder of wood,” she said. “My husband was a saw-miller before his stroke.”

Stephanie Abernathy of Steph’s Hand-Stamped Jewelry had a booth that sold her own creations as well as bracelets made by her daughter, Sophie. It was their second year at the festival. “I like supporting local fairs by selling something locally made, and I like seeing my students come through,” said Abernathy, who teaches second grade at Ashville Elementary.

She makes jewelry by using a hammer to stamp pre-cut designs onto aluminum, brass and copper. “I’ve been doing this for 12 years,” she said. Sophie, 13 and an eighth-grader at Ashville Middle School, makes Sophie’s Handmade Bracelets from glass and plastic beads.

Music for the day was furnished by Phillip Mulkey and Friends, an old-time bluegrass group that featured Phillip on banjo, Rick Morton on upright bass, Wes Phillips on mandolin, Mark and Adron Willingham on guitars, and Robbie Lawson, female vocalist singing harmony and playing guitar.

“We always hold this on the first Saturday in October, and there’s no charge for parking or admission,” said Kista Lowe. “Come out and join us next year!”

Amazing Grace Farm

Helping all people connect with nature

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Richard Rybka

“Ultimately, I’d like it to be like ‘Make-a-Wish’ for the elderly.” – Larry Bell, hunting guide

The beautiful house and barn sit well back from the road, just beyond the tranquil pond and surrounded by gently sloping hills of lush green grass. It looks like a peaceful private oasis.

Amazing Grace Farm is unquestionably a peaceful oasis, but its mission is far more inclusive than private. They open their doors by invitation to elderly and disabled individuals to reconnect with nature and enjoy outdoor activities. It is also open to first responders and veterans, and all of it is offered at no cost to participants.

Amazing Grace Farm offers hunting and fishing experiences, including those with mobility and special needs on the 113-acre property off Highway 26 in Ragland. Their list of accessible activities includes hayrides, cornhole, picnics, relaxing at the fire pit, shooting at their range, and meditation and relaxation. They are partnering with senior centers and veterans’ organizations to bring visitors to spend the day at the farm.

“Our elderly and disabled often end up being stuck inside all day looking at four walls,” says owner and director Judy Batson. She is also a nurse and CEO of Healing Touch Caregivers in Gardendale. “I wanted to give them a way to have fun and enjoy outdoor activities again.”

Judy had passed by the property countless times on her way to visit elderly clients in her work as a nurse. Each time she passed the sprawling landscape with its charming barn and home, she felt a stronger connection to it.

Occasionally, she even pulled in to pass the time between clients. On one such occasion, she found the realty sign lying down in the grass, so she called the number. When she said she wanted to place an offer on the property, she was told there were already other offers, and she likely didn’t have a chance. She didn’t hear back from them and forgot about the exchange until she got the call three months later. Her offer had been accepted.

Crew at the Cafe

“The idea for it was God-given,” says Judy. “Something about this place spoke to me.” From that point on, she says, she was driven to make the farm a place for a ministry to those she felt were forgotten – the elderly, veterans and those with special needs.

She describes the house as being in “deplorable” condition, with destruction by animals and termites just scratching the surface of the level of decay. It was in such bad shape that the appraiser (who at the time was also the mayor) declared that Judy was essentially buying the land and barn; the house wasn’t worth anything. She spent the next two years working with subcontractors to gut and rebuild the house. On the recommendation of a neighbor, she hired Craig Grigsby and John Bush to work on the floors. And they’re still working at the farm two years later – Craig as property manager and John as assistant property manager.

Both Craig and John live in Panama City, Fla., and spend two weeks of each month at the farm working to restore it and to build programs. They’ve hired another friend, Larry Bell, also from Panama City, to serve as the guide for the hunting program.

The three share Judy’s enthusiasm and mission for serving seniors. “I was introduced to hunting by my grandfather,” Larry explains. “What got me into this was to be able to give back to the people who introduced me to hunting. Ultimately, I’d like it to be like ‘Make-a-Wish’ for the elderly. We could give someone that one last big hunt.”

Craig’s family did not hunt, so, he says, friends invited him along. “As a 16-year-old growing up, I was taken hunting by a couple of preachers. Every Thanksgiving, they would go hunting with their families and they’d invite me. I loved listening to their stories around the campfire. It made me want to hear more.”

On this day, the fire pit is empty. A group of visitors is gathered inside around the coffee table as temperatures soar close to 100 degrees. Guests include seniors from the Ragland Senior Center, veterans and first responders from Ragland and Pell City. Laughter gives way to hugs as paramedic Cathy Riggs is reintroduced to the senior whom she helped on a call just over a year ago. After they catch up, Cathy goes with a guide who takes her to visit her old childhood swimming hole on the property.

“Do you know where Happy Top is?,” asks 94-year-old Raymond E. Smith, Jr., as he talks about where he was born and raised. “You know Lewisburg? Bradford? It’s not far from Bradford. We used to walk from Bradford to Happy Top to go to church.” Raymond is Sgt. Maj. Smith, a Green Beret who served in Vietnam. He talks proudly of his love for America and his pride in his service to the Army Special Forces unit. He also dearly loves fishing.

When the temperature cools off, allowing him to be outside with his oxygen tank, he’ll be headed to the fishing pond. It is stocked with bass, crappie, bluegill and crackerfish. Having the pond dug out and stocked was a big-ticket item for Judy and the Amazing Grace team. Luckily, there was clay and dirt to be sold that helped offset the cost.

There are many big projects in the works to continue to build programs for their guests. One of those projects is building a 12-by-12-foot shooting house. Why so big? Craig explains that it would allow the family of a physically challenged person to be a part of the experience in watching the shooting. They’ve also contracted with Michigan-based Wolf Creek Productions to document the experience as a keepsake for the client.\

A relaxing swing in the woods

Craig has also spent many hours working to implement plans for a zero-entry pool. Even with him digging it himself and purchasing supplies, the estimate to complete the project is $180,000. And, even then, they can’t find anyone willing to come out to work. They remain confident that it will come together eventually. “We even plan to invite churches to use it to baptize people who wouldn’t be able to (using traditional baptismal fonts),” says Judy.

They are also working on a café, adjacent to the pool area, where guests could come to get a cool beverage and relive “soda fountain” memories. While not complete, the plans include 50s-style furnishings and a jukebox.

Judy is quick to credit the completion of so much of the work at Amazing Grace Farm to Craig, John and Larry. “They share my vision, and they have such big hearts,” she says. “This would not be where it is without them.”

Greg Estes, commander of the Ragland VFW, is impressed with the changes. “I remember seeing this property when it sold. It’s night and day different.” He is already making plans to bring people to the farm. Teresa Harden with the Ragland Senior Center brought a group to the farm and plans to make the trip again. “It means the world to them. They enjoyed it so much.”

Editor’s Note: The farm is in need of sponsors to help with the costs associated with the programs. Amazing Grace Farm is a nonprofit and depends on donations to meet the needs of its visitors. If you are interested in visiting Amazing Grace Farm or supporting their ministry, you can contact them at 205-281-7828 or info.amazinggracefarms@gmail.com.

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 dotes on one of her ‘toddlers’.

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.

Getting in on the musical act

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.

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.”

DeLoach Farms

Bringing good food
right to your door

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Mackenzie Free
Submitted photos courtesy of DeLoach Farms

“Being married to a farmer is like being married to a professional gambler,” Kate DeLoach says. “There is so much investment to get a crop in the field.”

With variables like weather, labor shortages and the trade environment over which they have no control, keeping up their 840-acre farm is hard work. Kate and John DeLoach own and operate DeLoach Farms in Vincent, just across the St. Clair County line.

They have survived by taking lessons learned from the past and from the current pandemic and turning them into new opportunities.

The past two years have seen tremendous change in the farm, going from primarily producing soybean, cotton, wheat, hay and corn, to serving more of the needs of the local community.

John’s great grandfather used to deliver kids to school in this school bus, then load up vegetables to peddle on the courthouse square in Pell City.

Their decision to offer farmer’s choice food boxes came out of a desire to meet the needs of the community at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. They would put together a variety of fruits and vegetables in each box and meet customers for pickup. They now offer a full farm-to-table food box option with deliveries around St. Clair and Shelby counties. 

Kate says their son, Jess, developed the farm-to-table food box program. He is an accounting major at Troy University. He came home just a few months into college when the pandemic shut things down. He dreamed it up and started selling the boxes while he was home.

It has been wildly popular, and Kate says they are hoping to include meat and eggs in addition to the fruits and vegetables this year. There are several options offered and include things grown on the DeLoach farm and by other nearby farms.

The U-Pick strawberry patch was also inspired by Jess. They have nine acres dedicated to strawberries and grow several different varieties. Unable to keep up with the demand last year, they have more than doubled their number of plants from 35,000 to 75,000 this year.

Dozens of people are scattered throughout the fields on a sunny Wednesday enjoying the strawberry picking experience. A grandma holds the hand of a giggly little girl with strawberry-stained fingers and mouth.

Another customer checks out with her five gallons of strawberries. She’s making strawberry jam today.

Still another is from Michigan, visiting her cousin, who brought her here to enrich her Southern experience. They’re planning to make strawberry shortcake later in the day.

These are the people John works so hard for. “People and strawberries are my favorite,” he says. “Getting to see the people enjoy the fruits (literally) of your labor is pretty great.”

“We so appreciate people who support the local farmer,” adds Kate. “The local buyers help to insulate us from the global supply chain issues. We kind of support each other.”

Serving his community is a labor of love for John, whose ancestors bought the land on the banks of Kelly Creek back in 1820. For him, it’s also about respecting the land and his heritage.

The land is traced back to John’s great-great-great-grandfather, John Martin, Sr., who moved from South Carolina to what was St. Clair County (before the county lines were redrawn) and bought the land to start his life with his new wife, Sarah. His son, John Martin, Jr., returned to the farm from the Civil War after having his arm amputated due to injuries sustained in the war.

Fast forward to 1915, and Frank Harrison Lowe, John DeLoach’s grandfather, was born in the two-room house on the farm. The farm thrived for more than a decade, then fell into decay and neglect during the Depression. Frank returned to the farm after World War II and began working to bring it back to its former glory.

Kate feeds catfish at their fishing cabin

Tremendous progress had been made by the time John was born. John remembers being a young boy and working alongside his grandfather on the farm. Watching his grandfather help a cow struggle to deliver her calf is one of his earliest memories. When his grandfather died in 1988, John promised his grandmother that if she kept the farm, he would take care of it. He worked the farm every day after school. When he graduated from high school at 16, he took over the daily operations.

Over 30 years later, running the farm keeps him very busy. He’s up each morning by 4:30 and falls back into bed exhausted by 7:30 most evenings. While he has a handful of people who work for him, he does a lion’s share of the work himself.

Beyond the planting and harvesting work, he even finds time to make furniture, like the picnic tables in the strawberry patch, with materials sourced on the farm. He runs fallen trees through the planer in his sawmill to be able to use what would be wasted. 

He built a small fishing cabin with salvaged wood from former structures on the land and with cedar harvested there. The ceiling beams are from an old barn on the property that used to house a live nativity during Christmas.

Being a good steward of the land is one of the reasons he was honored as Alabama Farmer of the Year in 2018. That same year, DeLoach Farms was named the 2018 Alabama Farm of Distinction. For that award, farms are judged on sustainability, success as a business and conservation mindedness.

John credits his grandfather with instilling in him the need to responsibly care for the land and the creatures that use it. “We do a lot of conservation on the land,” he says. “We have beehives and plant things like clover and partridge peas for the wildlife. We have deer, fox, bobcats and lots of birds.”

Twenty acres of property is set aside as wetlands.  The area is filled with stately tupelo trees, an important food source and shelter for migratory birds. It is also equipped with a special pump system that fills and empties the wetlands seasonally to support the health and sustainability of the habitat.

They live in the 10-room farmhouse built by John’s great-grandfather in 1918. “My granddad’s name in still written on a shelf in one of the bedrooms,” John says. It identified his grandfather’s personal storage space in a house full of children. The house was lovingly dubbed the “Halfway House,” because people said it was “halfway between where you were and where you needed to go.” And, according to family legend, it was a great place to stop for supper.

The house was also home to the first telephone line that connected local townspeople with doctors in nearby towns. It was installed in 1915 to give residents a way to connect people to the doctor in Vincent or the one in Easonville, the St. Clair County town now under water when Logan Martin Lake was created in 1965. They just had to make their way to the house and John’s great great-grandmother, Eva, would patch them through.

John’s great-grandfather, John Marion Lowe, also served the area by buying a school bus in 1925 to take rural children to school. After dropping them off at school, he’d come back to the farm, load up fresh produce and take it in to Pell City to sell.

The farm is one of eight in the state to be recognized as a Bicentennial Farm, a program that honors families who have owned and operated their farm for 200 years or more. “That’s quite a big deal,” explains Kate. “It gets harder and harder each year to stay open. There’s a lot of pressure to sell as the city creeps closer and closer.

“We’d love for someone to be here 200 years from now talking about the family farm.” But Kate adds, “It’s a hard way to make a living. We’ve never placed any expectations of farming on Jess.” His business and marketing sense in directing the food box deliveries and strawberry U-Pick operation seem to support that possibility.

DeLoach Farms seems to be playing the long game. When the chips were down, they adjusted to meet the changing needs in the community. And they are growing again.

They have purchased adjacent property with plans to add a blackberry U-Pick operation in a year or two. There are also tentative plans for an apple orchard. This summer they look forward to opening a new area for picking sunflowers.

They will also have vegetables for sale all summer. If you are interested in the farm-to-table food boxes, contact them via Facebook, on Instagram or at www.deloachfarms.com. l