It’s not hard to understand why Realtor Lyman Lovejoy has earned the nickname, “Mayor of St. Clair County.” Just like the leader of a bustling community, you will usually find him at the center of a flurry of activity, whether it’s a civic endeavor, developing a residential community or playing a pivotal role in economic development.
His love for St. Clair County is unmistakable. His work over the past 50 years to promote it, showcase it and yes, sell it, is undeniable.
The nickname does have original ownership. “I coined the term mayor of St. Clair County because his impact on this county has been tremendous,” said prominent attorney John Rea. “His reach has impacted every community in this county. Not only has he had a phenomenal run of business for 50 years, he has been heavily involved in economic development with the Economic Development Council.”
‘Impact’ is an ideal word to describe his efforts over the years. As Rea noted, Lovejoy’s impact transcends lines and has been on both the public and private side.
His longevity in the real estate industry has not gone unnoticed either. The St. Clair Association of Realtors honored him in its annual recognition luncheon for achieving the 50-year mark.
Along the way to 50 years, Lovejoy has seen the ups and downs of business but always weathered the storm, no matter how dark it seemed.
None seem as dark as the Great Recession of 2008. “In ’08, we owed a lot of money, but we paid our bills, and we learned from it,” Lovejoy said.
His son, Shawn Lovejoy, credits his resilience and success to his “ability to care for people, his integrity and his positive attitude. He is incredibly resilient. ‘Quit’ is not in his vocabulary.”
Couple that with his community first, not business first attitude that drives him, and the picture of him as an ambassador for his adopted home of St. Clair County comes into focus.
From left, Richard Knight of Metro Bank, Lovejoy and Bill Ellison, 2021 EDC Chairman’s Award winner, at annual EDC event
You’ll probably find the name of every commissioner, chamber official, mayor and councilman in his phone. He never hesitates to call them with news of interest or just to say hello. “I get along with all of them,” he said. If it’s a civic gathering, a council session or a commission meeting, you’ll more than likely find him there, too. He likes to know what is going on, but more important, how he can help.
It’s not unusual to see him in the middle of a flurry of activity. He has been known to entertain in a musical group at nursing homes and senior centers and is active in his church, First Baptist of Ashville. He served on the St. Clair EDC and later was awarded its Chairman’s Award.
He has played leadership roles with the St. Clair Association of Realtors, served as chairman and is a member of the Ascension St. Vincent’s St. Clair Hospital Board, and he is a past member of the Alabama Real Estate Commission, a gubernatorial appointment.
Early years
The time was 1971. With only a high school education and zero experience, he decided to go into real estate. Some may have thought he would never make it, but he was determined to prove them wrong.
He and his young wife, Catherine, were a team – “a one-two punch,” Shawn Lovejoy recalled. They worked many tireless hours – her doing the books and squeezing every dime and him out meeting, greeting and handshaking. They call it ‘people skills,’ and those who know him would agree Lovejoy certainly has the corner on that market. And it set Lovejoy Realty on a journey of success as a leader in St. Clair County.
Over the years, relationships only strengthened. “We’ve sold some of the same people houses five times,” he said. He’s given many a young person a start on land ownership. With $500 down, he has financed young people “who never owned a piece of land in their life – hundreds of them – still do.”
Building relationships
Ed Gardner Sr., who served as the first executive director of the St. Clair Economic Development Council, said, “It is not possible to think St. Clair County without thinking Lyman Lovejoy, they are synonymous.” Lovejoy served as chairman of the EDC for many years.
“There are many reasons why St. Clair County has experienced significant quality growth over the past 20 years but when you break those reasons down, you will find Mr. Lovejoy as a component in most,” he said. “First of all, there has never been a more prominent ambassador or proponent for a worthy cause. His enthusiasm and warm, friendly demeanor permeates every meeting, public or private, and immediately exudes trust and confidence by those in decision-making positions.”
His community before business philosophy puts him in an elite class. “Lyman has ALWAYS placed the best interest of St. Clair County above all other considerations, including personal gain,” Gardner said. “He will always make himself available for meeting with anyone anywhere if there is a chance that his presence will add to the possibility of bringing investment into our county.”
His people skills set him apart, Gardner added. “Lyman’s love of his fellow man brings him into personal contact with more people than most public officials. There are no barriers recognized by him when it comes to reaching out to people. He is just as accommodating to those of low income and minorities as the highest corporate and political officials, always demonstrating the same concern.”
Doing the right thing is his trademark. “His integrity, honesty and impeccable character is evident in every transaction, therefore you never need to wonder where he stands on an issue,” Gardner said. “If you do the right thing, you know that your decision will meet with his approval.”
Andy and Creed Stone keep legacy, craftsmanship alive
Story Elaine Hobson Miller Photos by Graham Hadley Submitted Photos
Andy Stone has developed an eye for beautiful wood. He sees character where others see beetle tunnels and discolorations. He takes so-called faulty pieces and turns them into unique tabletops, floating shelves and mantels. It’s a gift that propelled him from a hobby to making a living with wood, despite starting his business during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.
“I started woodworking as a side business in 2006, while I was with Bill Harbert Construction,” says Andy. “Later, while I was at Coca-Cola, I prayed about it for two years, then in October of 2020, I stepped out on faith, trusted God and decided to do it. It was kinda scary, starting a business at that time.”
His Creedon Creek Woodworking began near his home in Trussville, but he quickly outgrew that shop. He moved to the Leeds headquarters of W.C. Wright Heating, Air, Plumbing and Generators because he needed more space. “Wright is a longtime friend who has plenty of warehouse space,” Andy says. “But we’re looking for something closer to home, in the Trussville or Springville area.”
From live-edge shelves to cutting boards, if it is made of wood, Creedon Creek can make it.
The “we” to which he is referring includes his father, Creedon, who works with Andy and for whom the company is named. It’s just the two of them right now, but they hope to hire a helper soon. They build dining room tables, custom furniture, outdoor furniture, built-in bookcases and cabinets, mantels, conference tables, office desks and more. They do a lot of charcuterie boards, which are glorified cutting boards, because they are “all the rage now,” says Andy’s mom, Brenda Stone. “Most of them are out of hickory and walnut,” she says.
Epoxy tables are quite popular now, too. “Wood will have a live edge (where the bark was) and a straight edge (cut side),” Andy explains. “You put the live edges together and use resin to fill the gap between them. It can look like a river flowing through the length of the wood.” He says “Welcome” and scripture signs are also popular for dens and front porches, and he has done a few mudroom benches.
“We built a mantel from a pine log that came from the bottom of Lay Lake,” says Creed, the name the elder Stone goes by. “We like to have never got a hole drilled in it, it was so hard.” Andy wants to get into the wedding industry by making custom wedding gifts as well as serving pieces such as cake platters and tabletop risers for caterers to use at receptions.
Some people go to Creedon Creek with photos of what they want, others with only vague ideas and dreams. Andy will draw something up or send them to the internet in search of a picture for inspiration. “If you can dream it, we can make it,” is Creedon Creek’s motto.
“I keep a folder of plans that I draw for people, in case I need something to reference,” Andy says. “I’m the only one who can read them, though,” he adds, referring to his drawing skills and penmanship.
Most of their machinery is portable, i.e., shop tools mounted on wheels. They have the usual table saw, router, planers and sanders, drills and track saw, as well as a fiber laser machine that’s used to cut out designs or cut them into a piece of wood.
They would love to own a portable sawmill and just might try to buy out their supplier when he retires. “We use a sawyer named Larry Ferguson of Cook Springs to cut wood from logs,” says Creed. “Ferguson Sawmill was started by his daddy, and my daddy bought from him.”
They use a variety of wood, including hickory, walnut, pine, cedar, maple and teak. They know the difference between ambrosia, curly and spalted wood and used all of those in a dining room table that is Andy’s favorite achievement so far. “Ambrosia wood is where you see little tunnels made by the ambrosia beetle,” Andy says. “Curly refers to the way the piece is cut: it’s quarter-sawn. Spalted is a discoloring caused by a fungus.” Then there’s “buggy blue” pine, where a fungus that grows on pine trees causes a blue stain in the grain.
Andy and Mackenzie
Teak and sapele are their choices for outdoor furniture, because both are highly weather-resistant. “Sapele looks like mahogany but it’s as durable as teak,” Andy says. “We seal our outdoor furniture with Thompson’s Water Seal, like you would a deck, although they don’t need anything.”
Stacks of boards are scattered about the workroom, along with piles of cross-cut timber or “cookies.” Andy puts the latter together to make end tables and coffee tables. One particular flame-box elder cookie displays a red coloration that was made by love bugs. “We’ll probably put together two slices, a large one and a smaller one that broke off, using epoxy and pieces of wood cut in the shape of bow ties and inlaid between the slices,” Andy says.
He’ll set the bow ties opposite to the grain in the pieces he joins, to keep the wood from expanding and contracting too much. “You never know how wood will act,” says Andy. “Certain wood goes this way or that, and you have to tame it to go the way you want it to by the way you cut it and finish it. We’re just glorified wood tamers.”
Under one of his work benches is a small tool bag that belongs to Andy’s daughter, 3-year-old Mackenzie. It contains real pliers, a hammer, ear protection and safety glasses. When Mackenzie visits her dad at the shop, she pulls out her tool bag and pretends to work right alongside him. When she tires of that, she zips around the room on her plastic car. “She’s the reason I stepped out on my own, to make her proud, to leave a legacy,” Andy says.
Prominently displayed on one vertical support beam is a 3D map of the United States, with each state recessed. Fifty pieces cut out of the map are in the shape of the 50 states, and they fit together like a puzzle. When someone orders such a map, Andy donates the pieces to a school or day care so the kids can paint them and learn about the states. “My silent business partner came up with this idea,” Andy says. It was his idea, however, to donate a tree to onetreeplanted.org, an organization that plants trees around the world, for every product sold.
“My great-grandfather was a master woodworker, and he and my grandfather were contractors,” says Andy. “One of my main goals is to start a mentorship program. I would love to teach some younger kids the trade, so it doesn’t die off.” l
Dry cleaner escaped Holocaust,
traveled storied route to Ashville
Story by Joe Whitten Submitted photos
For Bernie Echt, the journey from Gross Kuhren, Germany, to Ashville, Alabama, included stops in Africa, China, the Dominican Republic and sojourns in various cities in the United States.
Bernie’s parents, Solomon and Erna Czanitsky Echt, already had daughters Ruth and Eva when Bernie was born on Nov. 4, 1937. Sister Sarah would arrive Nov. 4, 1938.
His parents and grandparents owned a farm in Gross Kuhren and dealt in horses and cattle. Although Jewish, they conducted business with both locals and the German military before the war.
Relations seemed good with people in the area, for as Bernie recalled, “My parents and grandparents had lots of connections; that’s why we are still here. Otherwise we would be …,” he let those words hang, then added, “They helped us to get the hell out of there.”
Bernie wasn’t yet a year old when they fled the Nazis, so he recounts what he was told by relatives. In spite of the apparent good relationship, “At the end of 1937 or the beginning of 1938, one evening, they knocked on the door, and calling Solomon by his nickname, they said, ‘Sally, you need to go with us down to headquarters.’”
Solomon and Erna both asked for a reason, but the only answer they got was, “We can’t tell the reason; you just need to go with us. You don’t have to take nothing along.”
Erna asked where they were going, and they replied, “To town.”
“It was the Gestapo,” Bernie continued. “They took him to the concentration camp, Sachsenhausen, and put him to work in the stone quarry. He was in there until the end of ’38, or thereabout.”
Bernie is unsure of how this happened, but his mother and grandparents paid off certain Nazi officers to get Solomon out of Sachsenhausen. He believes they gave money and cattle, and that one of the officers was a close friend who used to visit on Sunday afternoons.
The officers warned that Solomon must disappear immediately, so within 24 hours of release, he was on a freighter to Shanghai, China. He lived in Shanghai a year before Erna and the children could journey there.
And what a journey Erna and the children had getting to Solomon in China. The grandparents hoped to emigrate to Palestine, but borders closed before they could leave. They never got out.
Along with other Jews, Erna and the children secured passage to China on an Italian freighter. Difficulties arose at the Suez Canal when authorities refused the freighter permission to proceed.
Low on fuel and food, the ship diverted to an African island where it languished for six months. A Jewish organization managed to get money to the captain so he could continue to China.
Finally, in 1939, Erna and children joined Solomon, where he worked on a missionary farm in Shanghai.
Because of the Sino-Japanese War (1937-1945), the Japanese occupied Shanghai. For the moment, things seemed peaceful. “The Japanese soldiers would come to the house,” Bernie remembered, “and my mother would cook them something. They had a good time.”
Concentration camp
All that ended Dec.7, 1941 – Pearl Harbor. “The Japanese came for us,” Bernie remembers, “put us up on a truck and took us to a camp. They took our passports. Everything. We had just the clothes we wore.”
There were 2,000 in this Japanese concentration camp with 16 people to a room. They devised privacy curtains with the bed blankets during the day, then took them down for cover at night.
The rabbis in the camp made sure Jewish boys received religious instructions. Going and coming from the place of instruction had its dangers, as Bernie recalls one night: “I remember rabbi took us one evening to the main building there, and the Japanese were shooting the guns with light-balls to light up the streets inside the camp, so they could see if anybody was walking around. And the rabbi said to us, ‘Just stand against the wall and don’t move.’ That’s what we did, and that’s how we always got through.”
The rabbis made sure that the kids who went to temple had kosher food for Passover, a sacred necessity for Orthodox Jews, such as the Echts.
World War II ended, and liberation finally followed. Bernie recalled, “McArthur came, and the streets were full of military. The Japanese commander who mistreated so many – he didn’t do it personally, but he had command over it – the teenage boys in the camp went to the Japanese headquarters, got the commander out, brought him to the camp and got sticks and hit him.”
Bernie didn’t participate in that. “That wasn’t my idea. I couldn’t join in beating him. He was only a man. I look at things a little bit different. I shouldn’t, maybe, but I do. A human being is a human being.”
The American nurses took the internees into the country, gave them food, and American military doctors gave physical exams.
The Americans taught them songs, Bernie recalled. “The first song we learned was ‘God Bless America,’ and then we learned the military songs – the Navy song and ‘This is the Army, Mr. Brown.’” He laughed and added, “We changed that one a little bit.”
Wanting to leave China, Bernie’s family went to the consulate and asked about being able to come to the United States. A Jewish organization (American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee) took over and organized the Echts’ and others’ exodus. They left for San Francisco on the Marine Lynx, an American transport ship. “We sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge, and it was wonderful,” Bernie said. “I was 9 or 10 years old.”
In San Francisco, the family stayed quarantined in a hotel for six weeks. Bernie recalls that the Jewish organization fed them and took them to a clothing store and bought them garments and shoes. He got his first pair of long pants and pair of shoes.
Dominican Republic
When the quarantine ended, the Jewish Distribution Committee came to tell the Echts the three countries available for relocation: Australia, Canada and the Dominican Republic. The family chose the Dominican Republic.
As early as 1938, General Truijillo of the Dominican Republic offered to the Jewish organization refuge to as many as 100,000 Jews fleeing Germany. On the north coast, now Sosua, General Trujillo set aside a large section of wooded land, and the Dominican Republic Settlement Association (DORSA), a Jewish group, cleared land and erected barracks. “It was similar to a Kibbutz,” Bernie said. “They all ate together, and the women did everybody’s laundry. There wasn’t that much that each one had separate.”
DORSA built houses on plots of land, families with kids got the first houses built, then couples without children. To get them started, for the father of the family, DORSA gave 10 cows; for the mother, six; and for each child, one. A family paid so much a month to DORSA until they had paid for the farm, house and livestock.
The Echts lived on one of the DORSA farms until Bernie’s mother died in 1949. After her death, Solomon left the farm and moved the family to the city. When Bernie turned 13, his father and sisters arranged his bar mitzvah. “I learned all the rituals,” he said. “I already knew a big part of it. I was very orthodox when I started out. Very orthodox until my mother died, then I slowly let it go.”
Home-life deteriorated for Bernie after his mother died, and a few months after his 13th birthday, he set out on his own. He had only the clothing he wore and no money.
He went to the Jewish organization in Sosua, met with the administrator, and told him about leaving home and needing a job. The administrator told Bernie he had no job for him because he lacked education and job skills.
Unsuccessful there but undaunted, he made his way to the farmers’ cooperative and told them his predicament. “I need a job. I need something to do to make a living.”
They listened to him, then, offered him the only available job, cleaning the animal intestines in the slaughterhouse, which paid $25 a month.
Bernie took the job. He lived in a barrack room for $3 a month, which included electricity and water. He commented, “I earned $25, paid $3 for lodging, and had $22 left. I didn’t need nothing.”
Work ethic rescues him
Although he started with a nasty job in the slaughterhouse, Bernie worked hard, and that served him well. The manager of the meatpacking plant soon took him out of the slaughterhouse and taught him about choppers and carvers. Mr. Meyerstein, who had worked for Armour and Swift in Chicago, taught him how to make sausage.
A careful observer and fast learner, Bernie said, “When I saw anybody doing something I wanted to learn. I caught it with my eyes and remembered it. I had no other choice. There was no Social Security, no unemployment, no insurance. Nothing. I had to learn.”
Management liked Bernie’s work ethic and raised his salary to $45 a month. He saved $10 a month until he had about $30 put aside. Then he went to a farmer to buy a calf. When the farmer found he had the money, he asked where he would keep the calf, and Bernie bargained with the farmer to pasture the calf for $1 a month.
They both agreed that when the calf became a milk producer, the milk belonged to the farmer, but calves born to those cows belonged to Bernie.
Next stop: USA
In 1957, when Bernie came to the United States, he was earning $85 a month and had 12 head of cattle, which he sold to finance his trip to the States and for Washington’s required $300 security deposit in case his job fell through.
Some Marines were the first who tried to help Bernie get to the United States. They said if he were willing to join the military, they would help him join the Marines. Bernie was willing, but the Marines weren’t – he was 2 inches too short at 5 feet, 5 inches tall.
Regulation height was 5 feet, 7 inches tall.
However, when a Mr. Weinberg came over from New York City, Bernie had success. He asked Weinberg if there was a newspaper in New York where he could run an ad for work in the United States. Yes, there was, the Aufbau, published in New York City for the German Jewish Club. Weinberg placed the ad: “Young butcher looking for a job in the U.S.”
Bernie waited. Then a letter from a Mr. Krucker arrived at the consulate in the Dominican Republic. Mr. Krucker owned a Swiss restaurant in Pagona, N.Y., and needed a butcher there by May 27, no later.
Bernie leapt into action. A visit to the consulate produced a list of “must do” things in order to leave. He took the list and returned in two days with everything else on the list.
Then he needed a “quota number,” but the consulate said that would take two weeks, and that would be too late to make it to New York by May 27.
Bernie tells it best. “It was hard to get out of the Dominican Republic at that time. Because of Nazi persecution, I was stateless – no passport. All I had was an ID from the Dominican government, like a driver’s license, but not a driver’s license.”
Bernie had to be in New York by May 27, so he begged the consulate to call Washington and get a quota number. “I will pay for the call,” Bernie said.
The consulate said, ‘Are you serious? We don’t do that normally.’ But with a little more pleading from Bernie, he said, ‘All right. Go outside and sit and wait. I’ll let you know. I can’t promise you.’
Bernie waited an hour and a half before the consulate came out and said, ‘I can’t believe it. I got you a quota number. Everything’s ready. Go to the airport and get yourself a ticket and you’re ready to go.’
Then, another problem loomed. Bernie had no passport, but he knew who could help. A German Jew named Kicheimer could work miracles almost. Bernie told Kicheimer why he was in a rush and gave him his paperwork.
Kicheimer returned the next day with the necessary documents, and Bernie was ready to leave. At the airport, Ruth and Eva were crying, afraid of what the police would do if they found out how he’d gotten his documentation. Bernie told them, “I did nothing; the man did everything. I’ve got a legal piece of paper.” He laughs and adds, “I was so glad when that plane went up and I looked down.” He was on his way to a new life that one day would land him in Ashville.
Bernie woking at Krucker’s Restaurant
When Bernie arrived at the restaurant, Mr. Krucker gave him a place to stay in his hunting shack, telling him to unpack, come to the restaurant and eat, then rest for the next day when they both would go to New York City to buy fish, meat and vegetables for the restaurant.
Bernie spoke of Mr. Krucker’s kindness to him, saying, “He treated me like I was his son. He was very good to me. When I bought my first business, he co-signed the loan for me.” Bernie’s respect for Mr. Krucker was evident when Krucker asked him not to wear his David Star because it made some German patrons uncomfortable. Bernie removed it, saying, “Mr. Krucker, I am Jewish in my heart, I don’t have to show it.”
Saying, ‘I do’
The restaurant’s head waitress, Pia, was a German gentile in an unhappy war-bride marriage that would end in a divorce. She was 10 years older than Bernie, but age presented no problem to him, and a few years later she became his wife. She converted to Judaism, going through the counseling sessions with the rabbis.
This was important to Orthodox Jews for descent is traced through the mother and gives both male and female children irrevocable Jewish status. It was a happy marriage that held strong until Pia died of brain cancer in 1979. The couple had three children: Bernhard “Bernie” Jr., Daniel and Katharina.
Bernie and Pia in the 1950s
Mr. Krucker had urged Bernie to ask Pia out. He was reluctant to do that because of lack of money. Pia knew this and said, “This time, I will buy you a root beer float and a hamburger. If you did have money, I don’t want you to spend it. You are new here, and you need to save your money.”
They didn’t go out again until Bernie had saved up some money. Mr. Krucker knew this and came to Bernie and gave him an envelope and said, “That’s for you.” It contained his $50 weekly pay, inside. “I was rich,” Bernie said.
Never afraid of hard work, Bernie worked in the restaurant through the summer and into the fall, and when the number of diners dropped, Bernie got a job in the meatpacking plant in Mazzolas, N.Y., earning $65 a week. When he got off work there, if an auction was being held, he would sell hamburgers at the auction house. “You know, a couple of bucks here and there, and I made money,” he said. On Saturday and Sunday, he worked at the restaurant.
Bernie and Pia were engaged now, and he wanted more income. One day he asked the man who picked up and delivered the restaurant’s laundry if there were money to be made in laundry work. He told him, “If you work hard you can make money. It’s on a percentage of what you collect.”
So, Bernie went to see the owner, Frank Senatores, who told him, “I don’t pay until you bring in work. You deliver it and collect, and I pay you a commission on that. You have to use your own car. I don’t supply no vans or anything.” Bernie accepted the job.
Making of an entrepreneur
He worked hard – and so did Pia. After working his dayshift at the meatpacking plant, he and Pia would run the laundry and dry cleaning routes until about 8 p.m. Pia would drive, and he ran to the houses delivering and picking up. “I’ve been doing that for 60 years,” Bernie said recently. “The same system. And it works. Believe me, it works.” They built up a good route and eventually bought the drop business.
In another village, he saw a laundry and dry cleaner that wasn’t doing well because of the lazy owner. Obtaining a bank loan, Bernie bought that company and gave up the restaurant job to concentrate on the laundry business.
Always the quick and thorough learner, Bernie learned the dry cleaning and laundry business hands-on. He bought a 1952 Chevrolet truck van, put hanging racks inside, and had a high school art student paint the truck white with a crown for Imperial Laundry and Drycleaners, with the address and phone number.
From the beginning, Bernie has never turned down a challenge, for he’s always assumed he could do it. Early on, a man came in with a wide lapel, double-breasted suit wanting Bernie to cut the lapels down to a narrower size. Although he had never done alterations before, Bernie said, “We can do that, but it will cost you.”
Pia thought he was crazy, but Bernie said, “Don’t get excited. We have a suit hanging here. I’ll lay it on top of the one to alter, mark all around the lapel but leave a half inch. Then we’ll cut the material off and turn the rest under and sew it.” They did, and the customer was so happy he gave them a generous tip. After that, Pia learned to do whatever alterations that were needed.
By the time Pia died of cancer, they were living in Florida, and Bernie had expanded into selling laundry and dry cleaning equipment.
Five years after Pia’s death, Bernie exhibited his machines at a convention in Atlanta. One evening after the exhibits closed for the night, Bernie went to eat a restaurant where there was dancing. There he met Doan, who was buying merchandise for her dress shop in Springville, Alabama.
The magic of dance
She and Bernie danced that evening, and that dance blossomed into a courtship that resulted in a wedding the next year, 1985. The love affair has lasted 35 years. Although Doan didn’t convert to Judaism, she attends temple with Bernie.
Doan and Bernie Echt in Ashville today
It was Doan’s St. Clair County roots that brought them to Ashville and the establishing of Imperial Laundry and Professional Drycleaners there in 1994. Their pickup and delivery routes extend into Jackson and Cherokee counties. Bernie’s original method of building a business by meeting and knowing his customers still holds him in good stead today.
Katharina Echt says of her father, “My brothers and I were raised with a strong foundation of what it means to work hard. We each have a keen understanding, by our father’s example, of what is possible with sheer will and determination. Ever present is his steadfast belief in our ability to achieve anything we set our minds to. And so we have.”
Bernie never lost hope or purpose in the face of hardship, adversity or tragedy. He has focused on the good of life rather than the bad and remains a cheerful man who is a delight to know.
Meet Robert Griffin, Renaissance man and self-proclaimed “wonderful, kind and loving individual. That’s me,” he laughed.
Most know him as the T-shirt Guy, but he could easily add a few more titles to his moniker – artist, musician, songwriter, band leader, white water canoeist, environmentalist, hardware salesman, construction worker and let’s not forget screen printer, a talent he’s been at for more than 30 years.
As owner and art director of Wolf Creek Creations, Griffin prints 800 to 1,000 T-shirts a week or about 50,000 a year and creates four or five original designs a day at his operation. “The customers usually have an idea of what they want. I create the designs from their descriptions,” he explained.
The largest single order he has ever fulfilled was for 5,000 T-shirts for Caritas, a Catholic charity; and the smallest number was 12, a minimum order. The farthest distance he’s ever shipped was to an address in Hawaii.
“We’re based in Pell City,” said Griffin. “Actually, exactly two miles down Wolf Creek, on the right, just outside the city limits, but we ship all over.”
Griffin began perfecting his artistic talents, while still in college at Jacksonville State University. “I studied art in college and worked in T-shirt shops when I needed a job. My first printing job was on paper for a graphic artist and that eventually led to T-shirts.”
Right out of college, Griffin’s artistic career seemed to be taking a left turn when he went into business with his father, who owned a construction company, but the younger Griffin’s creative flair wouldn’t take a back seat for long.
“I had already gotten involved with white water canoeing at this time. They had events all the time, but nobody was doing shirts for them. I convinced my dad that we needed to pick up that space – that there was money to be had. So, he agreed to open a very rudimentary area in the construction office. As things sometimes go,” added Griffin, “my dad ended up shutting the construction business and partnering with me in the T-shirt business.”
Group sales are the life blood of Wolf Creek Creations, from high school senior shirts to environmental alliance events to chili cook-offs. But events surrounding the 2020 pandemic have affected the sale of T-shirts as they have just about everything else.
“We literally had no business for three weeks. There’s no school, so there went the school business. Festivals usually held in the spring were canceled, like the Alabama Bluegrass Association concert. That’s an every-year event for us, and it was canceled. We’ve had about $10,000 worth of business either postponed or just outright canceled.”
Bob and Leah
Griffin, ever the optimist, says he thinks “things are beginning to turn around. We’ve got a strong customer base and a strong repeat business. People know about us strictly by word of mouth. Some of these people, I’ve been doing business with for over 20 years. They’re no longer customers. They’re friends I do shirts for. That’s what I love about what I do, the friends I make and people I meet along the way.”
Another of his passions is music. “That’s what I really enjoy,” he says. “I’ve had a band for about 20 years. My wife is also in the band. We do a lot of classic rock and some blues.”
Explaining that his wife, Leah, who auditioned for American Idol, is the real singer in the group, he said. “She has a beautiful voice. She lets me try it every once in a while. I am a marginally adequate singer.”
He is more than marginally adequate as a songwriter. You might say he’s prolific. “I’ve written about 50 or 60 songs. We do a lot of original material.”
The band, named One Eyed Mary, plays a lot of festivals and local clubs.
The name originates from one of Griffin’s dogs, now deceased. “She was a rescued Lhasa Apso,” he said, “and she had only one eye. So, of course, it seemed appropriate to call the band One Eyed Mary.”
Of all the hats Griffin has worn throughout his career, his very favorite has nothing to do with work. “My favorite hat is being a dad to my three kids and husband to my wife.”
It’s often said that timing is everything. A Pell City-based company’s owners believe that now more than ever.
Carol Pappas, president and CEO of Partners by Design Inc., announced that the company’s LakeLife Division has moved its growing apparel and lake-related products business online to a significant e-commerce platform under its national registered trademark, LakeLife 24/7®, at lakelife247.com.
That brand includes 14 Alabama lakes plus the LakeLife 24/7 line of products. “We’ve gone from a storage room in the back of our marketing firm to a small retail shop in the front for our home lake, Logan Martin, to a significant national presence online that’s growing,” Pappas said.
The timing could not have been more perfect, she noted. The launch happened within two weeks of closings, lockdowns and quarantines due to COVID-19, so it lessened the impact of having to close its retail shop in Pell City, which had generated a significant portion of its sales.
“We had been planning the move for months, recognizing that lake life isn’t restricted to a single body of water, it has universal appeal,” Pappas said. “Our original business plan moved in the direction of individual e-commerce sites for each lake in the state, but we soon realized it made more sense in a one-stop, online setting.”
Under the guidance of a friend whose professional background includes work in scalability, Lori Junkins, the site launched April 5, with sales coming in from nearly every Alabama lake plus multiple states at the onset.
“Lori’s leadership and wise counsel made all the difference,” Pappas said. “In the first month, our sales already have come in from seven states and 13 of our 14 lakes in Alabama. The appeal of our 24/7 line is growing, and we’re optimistic about our future prospects.
“Like we say in the ‘About’ section of our site, ‘Our Home’s in Alabama. Our Dreams are Global.’ Of course, we’re not there yet. But who knows?”
Founded in 2009, Partners by Design is a multimedia marketing firm specializing in communication, marketing, graphic design and web services for companies, governmental organizations and nonprofits. It also publishes a lifestyle magazine, Discover, The Essence of St. Clair, six times per year.
The Mustang Museum of America is celebrating the one-year anniversary of
its opening in Odenville and cementing its place as a regional go-to attraction
for automotive enthusiasts from around the country.
It joins the likes of the Barber Motorsports Park and
museum in Leeds and the International Motorsports Hall of Fame in Talladega
County.
For many automotive
enthusiasts, two car lines have dominated the highways in America.
One of them, the
Chevrolet Corvette, has had a museum all its own in Bowling Green, Ky., for
years.
Now, thanks to the
efforts of one family and backed by local businesses and the City of Odenville,
that other car, the Ford Mustang, has a museum right here in St. Clair County.
Housed in a huge steel
climate and humidity controlled building, the Mustang Museum of America opened
March 17, 2019, on Forman Farm Road in Odenville, and since then, the expansive
attraction had been drawing hundreds of fans of Lee Iacocca’s famous Pony Car
from across the country.
The museum is the
brainchild of Robert Powell, who says, “I had been thinking about a car museum
for 15 years” and finally decided to make it a reality.
Powell, who had been
working for Progress Rail, was nearing retirement — which he officially took
Feb. 1 — and started putting the pieces in place about five years ago.
“With the collection of
Mustangs I had put together, and the help of my two sons and their cars, we
started to figure out what we were going to do,” Powell said.
It was a natural move for
Powell — he had been the president of a local chapter of the Mustang Club of
America in Tampa, Fla. Even back then, they were thinking about the possibility
of a museum.
Powell grew up in
Alabama. In fact, he saw his first Mustang at a gas station in Odenville as a
teen. “I thought it was the most beautiful car ever put on the road. I was in
high school, so of course I could not afford one. But I started following the
line. Back then, I would get together on weekends with my friends in high school,
and we would drive around looking at car dealerships to see what they had on
the lots.”
When work brought him
back home from Florida, he and his wife and sons only thought it would be
natural to open the museum here.
“We think this could be
an anchor attraction for North St. Clair County,” he said. “I moved here when I
was 6. I grew up here, went to school here. St. Clair has been good to us. We
feel a loyalty to this area.”
With the support of local
civic leaders and business owners like Lyman Lovejoy, Powell unveiled his plans
for the Mustang Museum of America during a special community meeting in
mid-2016. They had already procured the necessary property, were starting on
plans for the building, and between Powell, his wife, Carolyn, and sons
Jonathon and Gary, already had upwards of 70 Mustangs in their personal
collection.
Plans called for the
museum to house between 100 and 120 Mustangs — a number they are already close
to reaching with 102 cars on hand. “We want to have one of every model year
through 2015, plus a police car version from every state that used them,”
Powell said.
Thanks to the generosity
of collectors and organizations dedicated to preserving Mustangs, who have
either loaned the Mustang Museum cars or donated them outright, there are only
a few gaps in the long rows of cars on display where they are still missing
models.
And alongside the
standard models are a number of specialty cars of historic note, including the
Mustang test bed used to benchmark the SVO Mustangs. It is one of the compact,
slant-fronted Fox bodies that marked the return of the Mustang as a dominant
force in American automotive manufacturing in the late 1970s and early 1980s.
That car looks rough, but
Powell says that is part of the history of the test vehicle. “I wanted it left
this way. It is part of what makes the car unique. This is the standard Mustang
that they ran against the SVOs in tests to see how they performed.”
They also have the
Fox-body Mustang Ford sent to California to be used to test the viability of
Mustangs as police — and much more commonly, state trooper — cars. That test
eventually opened the door for states across the country to adopt the Mustang
as a go-to law-enforcement interceptor vehicle.
Other cars that were
limited runs to promote brands, pace cars and race cars are also part of the
collection.
And though there was a
time when many die-hard Mustang fans would not admit that Ford’s smaller
Mustang IIs were part of the Mustang family, the museum boasts a large
collection of those, too. And that includes some of the sporty models that were
seen on TV shows, Charlie’s Angels in particular.
Times have changed,
Powell said, and most Mustang enthusiasts now consider the Mustang IIs as part
of the Pony Car family, with a number of people who specifically seek out and
restore them, helping with the museum’s collection.
In addition to the cars,
the walls of the museum are adorned with advertising, magazine articles and
other art – even an original, full-size billboard – that tell the story of the
Mustang.
“Lee Iacocca had to
really fight to get the Mustang built,” Powell said. Ford had just taken a big
hit with the failure of the Edsel, and when Iacocca said, “We need a new car
line,” he was told he must be crazy. But Iacocca, who passed away in 2019, was
known for his dogged determination, and the first Mustang was built — the 1964
1/2 model. The official launch of the 1965 Mustang would be Ford’s most
successful roll-out since the Model A.
The museum is a
non-profit effort overseen by a seven-member board of directors. Powell serves
as the managing director. His son, Gary, is the manager, and his other son,
Jonathon is the assistant manager.
Powell admits it has been
a learning curve for him, his family and everyone else involved in the project,
but their hard work is paying off.
Visitors from around the
country are making their way to Odenville, some just go a little out of their
way while passing through the area, others as parts of organized car clubs and
similar events. They even had a Honda Goldwing motorcycle enthusiast club make
it a point to put the museum on one of their routes.
That is exactly how
Powell had originally envisioned the project – not just as a museum, but as a
venue with large outdoor spaces and plenty of parking to host crowds and bring
events to St. Clair County.
He also readily admits
the business they are seeing now is just a small part of what the museum can
mean to the community. They did a soft opening and have gradually been seeing
business ramp up as word gets out about the museum, something Powell says will
be key to its success.
And he was quick to point
out that they are part of a much bigger picture – drawing motorsports
enthusiasts to the region. Races at the Talladega Superspeedway and events at
Barber Motorsports Park are part of that draw, especially since both of those
tracks also have museums on site, with more on the way at Barber.
Powell said the people at
Barber have been especially helpful.
“When I first started
thinking seriously about doing this, I talked to the people at Barber, and they
were very supportive,” he said. They have even talked about creating a regional
motorsports museum pass to cover several of the museums on one ticket.
His sons have been
bringing some of their cars to events at Barber and reached out to the venue
for guidance and the possibility of cross promoting their attractions. The
response and support have been more than Powell ever could have expected, he
said, lauding them for taking the big-picture approach to making the museums
and tracks regional and national attractions.
Other local businesses,
like BEI Electronics and Graphics and SVP are also important parts of the
community effort that have made the museum possible, helping with paint or
custom decals to return even the most worn-out Mustang to original condition.
Powell tries to keep cars in as close to original condition without restoration
as possible, but some vehicles need a full bumper-to-bumper rebuild before they
are suitable for display.
The Mustang Museum of
America is open Thursday through Monday, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., but Powell said they
will open pretty much any time to accommodate visitors; they just need to call
ahead and let them know they are coming. l
