Category: St. Clair Business

A long journey

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.

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.

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.

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.

Stop by and say hello. You’ll enjoy meeting him.

Robert Griffin: T-Shirt guy

Story by Linda Long
Contributed photos

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.”

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.”

LakeLife 24-7 accelerates brand online

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.

Check out our online Shopify store at LakeLife247.com

Mustang Museum of America

St. Clair celebrates an automotive icon

Story and photos by Graham Hadley

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

Keep up with the Mustang
Museum of America online

mustangmuseumofamerica.com

and follow them on Facebook

Features

Greasy Cove General Store

This is their grandfather’s store … and more

Story by Scottie Vickery
Photos by Kelsey Bain

Andrea and Bubba Reeves grew tired of the rat race, so they decided to build their future on the past. The couple, who live in the Greasy Cove community of Gallant, recently reopened the store that her grandfather, Jesse “Junior” Smith, ran for decades.

In the six months it’s been open, Greasy Cove General Store has once again become the place where neighbors can catch up on news, buy milk or eggs and find a sense of belonging.

“This doesn’t feel like a job to me, it just feels like home,” Andrea said. “We’re bringing family and community back together. We have a lot of people who come in and get teary-eyed and emotional because they have so many memories from when they were young and used to come in.”

Andrea knows how they feel. Her grandfather, who always gave her a cold drink in a glass bottle and a Zero candy bar, closed up shop in 2015, about a year before he died. Bringing his store back to life has been even more meaningful than she expected. “I can imagine him sitting here and me and my brother running around when we were kids. Everyone comes in and says, ‘Your granddaddy would be so proud of you,’” Andrea said and grinned. “I think he’d be mad I messed with his store.”

While there are many nods to the past – the original pine floors have been restored, the old checkout conveyor belt serves as the lunch counter, and old cash registers and oil cans are part of the décor – there have been many changes, as well. For starters, the Reeves changed the name from B&B Grocery, which it had been long before Andrea’s grandfather took it over, to better capture the eclectic mix of merchandise they’ve offered since opening last September.

A little bit of everything

“We try to carry something for everyone,” Bubba said. There’s produce, including oranges, apples, tomatoes, cabbage, rutabagas and 3-pound bags of peanuts. They’ve got the basics covered, as well, stocking items like Amish butter, hoop cheese, bread, corn meal, sugar and coffee. There’s also a line of jams, jellies, syrups, salad dressings and pickled foods that carry the Greasy Cove General Store label.

You’ll find gift items – many handmade – including jewelry, soaps, paintings, leather goods and wooden trays, puzzles and crosses. They carry typical convenience store items, like chips and candy bars, as well as a mix of the old, including Circus peanuts, wax bottle candies and old-fashioned stick candy. Antique coolers are filled with glass-bottle drinks, including Coca-Cola, Sprite, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper and Grapico, and there are canned drinks, orange juice, buttermilk and bottled water.

Merchandise in the parking lot changes with the seasons. Fall mums, hay bales and pumpkins gave way to fresh-cut Christmas trees, wreaths and garland that Bubba brought back from the “World’s Largest Christmas Tree Auction” in Pennsylvania. Spring bedding plants, hanging baskets and herb and vegetable plants are making an appearance, and furniture such as Adirondack chairs, rocking chairs, porch swings and Bubba’s handmade cedar tables have been a huge hit with customers.

“If we can save someone a trip into town, we want to do it,” Andrea said. “This has been a tremendous leap of faith. We just jumped in with both feet and haven’t looked back.”

The Reeves aren’t exactly sure how long the store, which changed hands several times before Junior took over, has been a fixture in the community. Some say the original store opened in 1939; others say it dates back later than that. It’s been part of Andrea’s family history, however, since 1980 when her father, Carl Smith, started working there part-time as a high schooler, pumping gas, changing oil and fixing brakes.

A year later, the owners put it up for sale. “I talked to Mom and Dad about buying it, and they co-signed with me on the loan,” Carl said. He planned to run the place himself, but his parents wanted him to finish school. He continued to work there after school and during summers until college beckoned, and his dreams began to change. “I’m kind of a wanderer, and I like to go and do,” he said. “If you’ve got a store, that’s not going to happen. Dad was content being out there at the store, so I kind of left it with them.”

The store soon became Junior’s baby. After retiring from the Navy, he did some “truck farming,” growing produce and selling it in Birmingham-area farmer’s markets, so it was a natural fit for him. “My dad was the kind of person who didn’t meet a stranger,” Carl said. “You’d stop in the store and by the time you got ready to leave, you were one of his best friends.”

Under Junior’s care, the grocery quickly became a gathering place for the “old-timers,” who swapped stories and tall tales, Andrea said with a smile. “If Granddaddy didn’t know the whole story, he made up the rest of it. Before there was Facebook (and pages like) What’s Happening in Gallant and What’s Happening in Ashville, it was ‘What’s Junior got to say?’”

Chances are, he’d be proud that Andrea and Bubba chose a family-centered lifestyle for themselves and their three boys, Eli, 14; Casey, 12; and Colton, 8. They weren’t thinking about the store until Carl broached the subject. “It had been sitting empty, and it needed to be torn down or fixed up before it fell down,” said Carl. “I asked them if they wanted it.”

Bubba, who grew up on a farm on Straight Mountain, was working full-time for Carl, who now owns a machining and fabricating company. He was also farming on the side, running his produce stand in Ashville and longing for a simpler routine. “My whole life was flying away, and I wasn’t getting to enjoy it,” he said. “People are in too big of a hurry nowadays, and sometimes you just need to slow down.”

Andrea, a registered nurse, had worked for a hospital and rehabilitation facility and felt like she was missing her sons’ childhoods. “By the time we’d get home, they’d already told someone else about their day and didn’t want to tell it again,” she said. While they’d planned for Bubba to run the store while she continued working, she quit her job two days before it reopened.

“We’re happiest when we’re here,” she explained. “My kids get off the school bus here just like my brother and I did. It’s one of those things you just hope God will make a way for you, and He did.”

Labor of love

The community shared their excitement. “We started cleaning it out by the truckloads and people were stopping by and saying, ‘What are you doing to Junior’s store?’” They also shared their memories with the family, recounting the store’s many lives. “It’s been here since my Dad was a kid,” Carl said. “It used to be right up the hill, but when they built Gallant Road, they rolled that building down on logs and turned it to face the new road.”

Although he eventually quit selling gas, Junior didn’t make many changes to the store. “It was in bad shape,” Andrea said. “We pretty much gutted it and took it to the studs.”

Bubba, who also has a background in cabinetry and custom woodworking, rebuilt the walls with wood from fallen trees and added the front porch that houses produce, furniture and sleds. He built the front counter and the bathroom vanity and covered the ceiling in old tin that came from the roof of Junior’s mother’s house.

Antique wagons are used to display merchandise both inside and out. The original bottle opener is attached to the new counter, and an old door featuring handwritten party line phone numbers of neighbors, the Post Office and the Sheriff’s Department is propped nearby. An old corn-husk hat made by Andrea’s great-grandmother is framed and hangs in a prominent spot. “There’s a lot of history in this place,” Bubba said.

While Andrea and Bubba are happy to honor the past, they want to create new memories, as well. After paintings by Andrea’s mother, Cindy Smith, flew off the shelves, she began offering painting classes a few times a month. “When the ladies leave here with their artwork, they feel so accomplished,” she said. “It gives them a good two hours to come and visit and forget their troubles.”

Andrea, who is also a licensed cosmetologist, has been known to give a haircut or two in the front yard, and now they plan to update Junior’s fishing shack to make it a regular offering. They’ve hosted community events like Christmas in the Cove, complete with Santa, bluegrass music, arts and crafts, cookies and hot apple cider. They also have plans to open the kitchen and start serving soups, deli sandwiches and burgers soon.

Although she and Bubba have been fighting over who gets to do the cooking, Andrea isn’t sweating the details.

“We’re just going to wing it like we’ve done since this whole thing started,” she said. “This has been such a blessing, and the community has been so supportive. We’re loving every minute of it.”

Features

Attention: Women Working

St. Clair women blaze trails
in male-dominated fields

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Kelsey Bain

The year 2020 marks the 100th anniversary of the passage of the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, the one guaranteeing women’s right to vote. It could also be the year that the Equal Rights Amendment, which guarantees equal legal rights for all Americans regardless of sex, becomes the 28th amendment.

While legal experts debate the uncertainty of the consequences of Virginia’s ERA ratification years after the original deadlines, along with the recisions of five other states, a couple of trailblazing women here in St. Clair County continue doing their jobs in male-dominated fields without concern for equal treatment.

In fact, Stephanie Foster, St. Clair’s first certified female school bus mechanic, and Belinda Crapet, the City of Springville’s first female police chief, say they got where they are with the help and encouragement of their male counterparts. For them, equal rights have never been an issue.

“The mechanics here (at the Pell City Schools bus shop) encouraged me to take the certification test, and they keep telling me I can do this,” Foster says. “Other mechanics sometimes make derogatory remarks at conferences and mechanic classes, but no one at the shop does.”

Foster, the second woman in the state to earn a school bus mechanic certification, is shop assistant for the Pell City Schools Transportation Department. Her primary job is behind a desk, where she handles morning dispatches and deals with parents calling about kids missing buses and drivers calling about fights among students.

She checks images that are captured from security cameras and sends digital copies to the Police Department when a video shows a driver not stopping while a school bus is loading or unloading. Occasionally, she fills in as a bus driver. A big part of her job is ordering parts, and being a certified mechanic comes in handy for that.

“Before, when a driverreported a problem, I had to get a work order to a mechanic, he would look at the bus, then a lot of times, I had to call a parts manufacturer for a diagram of the area where the problem was. Then the mechanic would identify which part was needed from the diagrams, and I would place the order,” she says. Now, she looks at the bus and diagrams, which she keeps on file, and determines herself which part to order. “It’s much more efficient this way,” she says. “The quicker we can get that bus back on the road, the better.”

She has been with the department since 2013 and was certified in January of last year. “You have to work in a shop five years before you can take the certification test,” she says. The three-part exam included an on-site, hands-on portion that involved a state instructor “bugging” a school bus. Foster found nine of the 10 changes the instructor made to the vehicle. “I missed the easiest one — the oil dipstick was missing,” she says.

Although she knows a piston ring from a push rod, shecan’t rebuild an engine. But she is familiar with all its parts. She helps with the state-required monthly bus inspections, hooking her laptop to the bus to find what’s causing engine lights to come on. She replaces fluids, light assemblies and switches. She is qualified to replace brake chambers, hazard and turn signal switches, and one of the most common problems in school buses — door switches. “They tend to break a lot on our new buses,” she says.

Drivers have to do safety pre-checks before each trip, mornings and after school. If they hear air escaping, or the air pressure gauge shows it isn’t building enough pressure, they know there is a leak. “I got certified because I wanted to be able to walk out to the bus and know what it is that’s leaking, not just say we have an air leak, but to tell them it’s the right rear brake chamber of a door that’s leaking air, for example,” says the 2010 graduate of Pell City High School. “Safety is important to me, and I wanted to make sure when I talk to our mechanics that I know what I’m talking about. I wanted to speak their language.”

The 27-year-old has always liked taking things apart to see what was inside and to learn how they worked. Her interest in mechanics developed as a teenager, when she hung out with her best friend, Patrick Ferguson, who worked on race cars, four-wheel drives and rock crawlers. “I was his sidekick, and he taught me a lot,” she says. She worked at Advance Auto Parts in Pell City and Leeds for two years, then as a painter’s prepper in a body shop.

Her husband, Joshua, paints vehicles for a living. The couple has two children. Their son, 7-year-old Tristan, thinks it’s cool to hang out at the shop with Mom each morning while awaiting his bus ride to school. Five-year-old Emma has shown no signs of following in Foster’s footsteps.

Kristy Lemley, shop secretary, was impressed when Foster did a road-side repair on a recent trip. “We were taking two buses to Transportation South, a bus dealer and repair shop, and the air line going to her seat busted,” Lemley said. “It made a loud noise, and Stephanie jumped. Then she hopped out of the bus, looked around and found the problem and fixed it. We went on with our trip.”

“They were air-ride seats, and mine dropped to the floor,” Foster recalls. “I couldn’t have driven the bus like that.”

“She doesn’t give herself enough credit,” says Lemley. “She can do my job, her job, the supervisor’s job and most of the jobs of our mechanics.”

Justin Turner and Greg Davis, the other two shop mechanics, spent a lot of time helping her prepare for the state exams.

“Without those two, I would not have made it through the test,” Foster says.

Davis says he and Turner “think the world of her” and that she has been a definite asset to the shop. “If just any woman had come up to me and wanted to be trained, I would have had reservations, but I knew Stephanie’s character,” Davis says. “She has always been wise beyond her years and driven to be successful at things she does, so I had no qualms about showing her how to become a mechanic. She’s a bulldog, and when she gets something into her head, she does it. Those qualities are hard to find in any gender these days.”

This woman answers to ‘Chief’

Belinda Crapet Johnson has those same “git-‘er-done” qualities. She didn’t grow up wanting to be a police officer. She stumbled into law enforcement for lack of something to do and discovered her true calling. “My youngest child was in kindergarten, and we lived across the street from Moody City Hall,” says Crapet, who uses her middle name professionally. “I walked over to see whether the city was hiring. I got a job as part-time dispatcher. I was trained on the job.”

As a dispatcher, she would take a call, then send an officer to investigate. “I often wondered what happened on those calls,” she says. That curiosity led her to attend the Reserve (Weekend) Police Academy in 1992. “They don’t change anything in the academy because you are female,” she says. “Physical agility, firearms, all of the requirements and tests are standardized.” She prepared herself for the physical demands of the academy by running to get into shape.

Sometime during the early 1990s, central dispatch came into the county, eliminating her job with Moody. She went to work in the county probate office. She had already finished the academy by then, so when Moody had an opening for a police officer, she joined the force.

“I was was there six or eight years and was one of the first school resource officers in that city,” she says. “This was around the time of the Columbine (Colorado) school shooting.” She was a police officer in Odenville from 2001-2008, served briefly on the Ragland police force, then went to Springville in 2010. “I started as a patrol officer, was promoted to investigator, then I was appointed chief in 2018,” she says. “I had the rank of sergeant in Odenville but was hired as a patrol officer here.”

Although she’s the first female police chief for Springville, Crapet is quick to point out that she isn’t the first woman police chief in St. Clair County. “Branchville has had two women police chiefs, Wendy Long and the late Joann Lowe, and Argo has had one, Rebecca Downing,” she says.

According to a recent article by the Associated Press, only five of the nation’s 50 largest police departments are led by women. A 2013 survey by the National Association of Women Law Enforcement Executives showed only 169 women leading the more than 1,500 law enforcement agencies across the United States that responded to the survey. A 2018 survey reported by Statista, an online business data platform, said only 26.7% of law enforcement officers are female. Springville has two females out of 11 officers, including Chief Crapet.

Even though she’s the chief, Crapet doesn’t wear a full or Class A uniform all the time. “That’s for dress-up,” she says. She usually works in a Class B uniform, which consists of a Polo-type shirt and black or khaki pants. Her five children grew up seeing their mom in a police uniform, but her eight grandchildren and two great-grands are still getting used to the idea.

“The grandkids don’t usually see me with gun and badge,” she says. “One day I walked into the house of my 3-year-old grandson in full uniform and he said, ‘Nana, what are you doing?’ I said, ‘I’m a police officer.’ He just looked at me.’ Another grandchild had to do a history project and chose female law enforcement officers in Alabama as her topic.”

As for how she would feel about one of her grandchildren going into law enforcement, she says she would support her — or him. So far not one has expressed an interest in it. “I was school resource officer at Moody High School when my kids were there,” she says. “That was awkward for them.”

Her job requires a lot of administrative work in her office at City Hall. That office could best be described as “executive unisex.” A four-month dry-erase calendar hangs on a wall behind her large desk. “A Policeman’s Prayer” banner hangs on another wall, alongside a painting of rocking chairs and an American flag on a country front porch. Facing the desk is a flat-screen television hanging next to a Back-the-Blue wreath. A vacuum cleaner sits next to a coffee pot.

Theoretically, Crapet only has to spend 40 hours per week in her office or in her unmarked patrol car. Realistically, she is on call 24 hours a day. She doesn’t get called out much in the middle of the night, though. “I had to go out more when I was an investigator,” she says. “My husband hardly knew when I was gone.”

She likes getting out of the office, talking with business owners, their employees and people on the street. She wants them to know she cares. “I go to school events, too,” she says. “I’m best at community relations. I love that and working with children.”

Frank Mathews, a police investigator for Springville, has known Crapet for 17 years. “She’s a great chief, she’s doing an excellent job,” he says. “It’s the experience she has behind her that makes her so good. She’s been there, done that. She has come up through the ranks. Blue is blue — male or female.”

Springville Mayor William Isley says he recommended Crapet to the City Council upon the recommendation of former Chief Bill Lyle when Lyle retired. “She wears the hat well,” he says. “She works hard to retain the officers we have and makes sure they stay up-to-date on all their certifications. I’m impressed with her. She’s in a male-dominated profession, but this lady has walked into it and stood tall. She demands the respect of all who work for her. I fully support her in all she does.” Crapet says she and Cathy Goodwin, a lieutenant with the St. Clair County Sheriff’s Department, have been around longer than any other female law enforcement officers in the county. “I’ve got 29 years of service, 25 of them on the street,” she says. In all that time, she has caught no flack about being female, neither from fellow officers nor from people in the communities in which she has served. “I’ve had a lot of good mentoring from male officers through the years,” she says. “I’ve seen a lot of women come and go. I’m still here because I’m just stubborn. When you come into this field, as long as you realize you are held to the same standard as male officers, you will be fine.”

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