Howard Hill

howard-hill-archerWorld’s Greatest Archer

Story by Jerry C. Smith
Photography by Wallace Bromberg Jr.
Submitted photos

Schoolboys often dream of marrying a favorite teacher, but Howard Hill of Shelby County actually pulled it off and, with her help and support, became a true legend in his own time, the World’s Greatest Archer.

Ashville’s Elizabeth Hodges had taught high school English in Wilsonville, Alabama, where Howard attended. Apparently their attraction was mutual, as he married her a few years later. They had a long, storybook life together, and now lie in final rest beside each other in Ashville’s New Cemetery.

Born in 1899 on a cotton plantation in Shelby County, Howard’s father made archery equipment for him and his four brothers and taught the boys how to use them. Howard grew up using weapons of all kinds, but his bow was always his favorite.

According to Craig Ekin in his book, Howard Hill, The Man And The Legend, Howard killed his first rabbit at age five and, in his excitement to show his folks the game he’d brought home for supper, left his bow in a cotton field. It took three days to find it.

Howard entered Auburn’s veterinary school at age 19, but did so well in sports that animal medicine was soon sidelined. A tall, powerful young man who excelled at anything athletic, he lettered in baseball, basketball and football, earning the nickname of Wild Cat.

Howard didn’t neglect his archery interests while at school, often slipping away on weekends for long target practice sessions which, according to Ekin, usually involved shooting some 700 to 800 arrows. Howard was so appreciative of his years at Auburn that he created a college archery program at the school after his retirement. Many of his artifacts are now displayed on campus.

In 1922, Howard moved into Southern League semi-pro baseball, often playing pro golf in off-season. It was about this time that he married Elizabeth, which Ekin describes as the best move Howard ever made. “Libba,” as he called her, realized from the start that archery was Howard’s destiny, and she encouraged him at every opportunity.

howard-hill-errol-flynnNiece Margaret Hodges McLain describes her Aunt Elizabeth as a perfect southern belle whose petite stature only made Uncle Howard seem that much larger. Mrs. McLain recalls the Hills visiting Ashville during breaks from movie work.

Howard often cooked meat entrees for family gatherings by the same method used on safari in Africa. He would dig a pit in the ground, build a big fire in it, then place meat wrapped in wet cheesecloth among the coals, cover it up, and let it cook all day, a process similar to Hawaii’s imu pits used at luaus.

While waiting for dinner, Howard would set up hay bales for targets, and demonstrated his many archery skills and trick shots. Margaret recalls seeing him shoot tossed dimes from the air, as well as helping the youngsters learn archery. Howard was well-respected in Elizabeth’s home town, where the local theater showed many of his films and short subjects.

Three years after their marriage, the Hills moved to Opa Locka, Florida, where Howard worked as a machinist at Hughes Tool Company, founded by the father of aviation pioneer Howard Hughes. While there, he read a book called The Witchery Of Archery, by Maurice Thompson, that inspired Howard to set forth on a path that would bring him worldwide fame and set new records, many of them unbroken to this day.

Howard made his first bow while working at Hughes. It wasn’t a very good one, but it signaled the start of a new career direction in archery. He continued making bows and arrows and working in the machine shop until 1932, when their California experience actually began.

Ekin relates that Howard was approached by famed newspaper editorial writer Arthur Brisbane, who wanted the Hills to move to his desert ranch near Barstow, California. Howard was to coach his sons in physical sports, while Elizabeth would tutor them in academics.

After Howard’s one-year contract ended on the Brisbane ranch, he went to Hollywood, intent on making a documentary film he had written, called The Last Wilderness. It emphasized hunting America’s big game rather than spending fortunes on jungle safaris.

The film was a quick success, made entirely outdoors without using a single studio set. Howard’s amazing archery skills were featured as he brought down every kind of large game animal in the American wild country. For the next year or so, he tirelessly promoted this movie by making personal appearances at each showing, dazzling his audiences during intermissions with incredible demonstrations of pinpoint accuracy.

Among Howard’s amazing feats were shooting dozens of arrows, rapid fire, into the exact center of a target from 45 feet, not only from a standing stance, but also lying on his back, side, belly, and from between his legs. His arrows often got damaged in these stunts because they were grouped so tightly there was scarcely room for them all in the target’s tiny center spot.

Howard also appealed physically to his audiences. At more than 6 feet tall, his muscular build and dashing good looks would have easily qualified him for leading roles in movies. He was immensely strong, able to pull any bow with ease. In fact, some of his bows were so powerful they took two men to string them unless he did it himself.

howard-hill-elizabethOne of Howard’s first major records was a long arrow flight of more than 391 yards, set in 1928 using a bow with a draw weight of 172 pounds that he built for the feat. He could keep seven arrows in the air at one time, and split a falling arrow with another.

Some favorite stunts were shooting at small objects in midair such as coins, rings, wasps, etc, shooting cigarettes out of some brave soul’s mouth, rolling a barrel down a hill and firing an arrow into its bunghole, splitting narrow sticks with arrows, shooting birds from high in the air, striking a match with one arrow, then extinguishing it with the next, shooting two arrows at once to burst two separate balloons, ricocheting arrows off wooden boards to hit a target, and breaking several balloons consecutively that had been blown up inside each other.

When asked how he hit moving targets so easily, Howard replied, “You have to train your eye to look at a single spot. If it’s a man, you look at a shirt button; if it’s a Coca Cola sign, you look at the center of an O. You have to look at infinite spots.”

Ekin remarks that when Howard was “looking at a spot,” his eye would appear as if it were literally going to pop right out of its socket. One thing that caught your writer’s notice in Hill documentaries was the way he laughed and joked with bystanders, but the minute his bow came into full draw, a dead-serious look would suddenly appear on his face. As soon as the arrow was loosed, however, he immediately became jovial again. It’s like he was two different people.

Howard’s hunting skills were legendary. He killed more than 2,000 large-game animals with his bow, including a rogue bull elephant. Taught to hunt by a Seminole Indian, he could track any kind of creature, often dispatching it with one arrow from a distance that would have challenged a gun hunter. Elizabeth often accompanied him on safaris and other big game hunts.

But despite his predatory skills, the man was not without a sense of humor. According to Ekin, on one western hunting trip he fooled his comrades into thinking they were eating veal brought from home when it was actually a wild burro he had shot the previous day and cooked in his signature fire pit.

Another time, Howard slipped a fox into a huge kettle of rabbit stew. On yet another trip, Howard and his companions were perturbed by a fellow hunter’s thunderous snoring, which continued despite all attempts to gently waken him. Finally, Howard simply rolled him, sleeping bag and all, into an icy creek.

His skills and uncanny accuracy soon caught the eye of Hollywood producers in 1937, when Warner Brothers was shooting The Adventures of Robin Hood. This high-dollar movie starred Basil Rathbone and Errol Flynn (for our younger readers, Flynn was sort of like today’s Kevin Costner, but far more macho). Facing a select group of some 50 accomplished archers who tested for the movie’s arrow shots, Howard easily topped them all in accuracy.

According to Ekin, director William Keighley told Howard, “You’re hired. Tell the head property man what equipment you want and report Monday to teach 22 actors and six principals how to shoot.”

Howard made many shots with the camera looking over his shoulder from behind, substituting himself for an actor who had just been filmed from the front while pulling the same bow. He performed many dangerous precision shots, such as knocking a war club from Basil Rathbone’s hand and shooting at running spear throwers.

By his own estimate, Howard “killed” 11 men while shooting Robin Hood. Some were shot while on galloping horses, falling to the ground with an arrow sticking out of their backs or chests. In reality, his blunted arrows had imbedded themselves into a thick block of balsa wood backed up by a steel plate, worn under their tunics. Had Howard’s aim been off by just a few inches, it could have been fatal.

Actors complained that a powerful bow he used to insure accuracy packed such an impact force that they didn’t have to fake falling from their horses; he literally knocked them off. He did all the bow shots for Errol Flynn, as well as numerous Indian battle scenes for movies like They Died With Their Boots On, Buffalo Bill, and several other films involving archery.

In a foreword to Howard’s book, Wild Adventure, Errol Flynn said, “When you meet Howard Hill you know darn well you’ve met him before, but you can’t remember where or when.“ The two became friends while on the Robin Hood set and spent many pleasant days afterward hunting, partying and fishing from Flynn’s yacht, the Sirocco, where he made one of the most incredible shots of his career.

He dropped a wooden barrel over the side, then threw the barrel’s cork after it. Quoting Ekin’s 1982 book: “While the boat and barrel were bobbing up and down on the waves, Howard proceeded to shoot the cork with an arrow that had a line attached to it. After retrieving the cork, he then shot the arrow again (with the cork still on the end of it), perfectly plugging the hole with the cork! This was made into a movie short, and can still be seen today.”

In 1940, Howard set up an archery shop in Hollywood, where he turned out some of the world’s finest bows and arrows. He made them for superstars like Gary Cooper, Roy Rogers, Iron Eyes Cody, Errol Flynn and Shirley Temple — complete with archery lessons.

By 1945, Howard had mostly given up on competitive shooting, since no one could beat him. In fact, he won 196 Field Archery tournaments in a row. His attention turned to hunting and exhibition work. He and Elizabeth built a fine, Southern-style colonial home in the middle of 10 acres in Pacoima, California, using marble imported from Sylacauga.

By the 1950s, Howard was making his own hunting movies, such as Tembo, released by RKO in 1952, which is still a film classic. In all, he produced 23 short subject films for Warner Brothers. He wrote several authoritative books on archery and big-game hunting, like Wild Adventure and Hunting The Hard Way, and has been featured in several other archery books.

In 1971, Howard was inducted into the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame. Birmingham sports editor Zipp Newman wrote, “Never has one man so completely dominated his sport as Howard Hill.”

His signature bows and arrows are still being manufactured and sold at Howard Hill Archery in Hamilton, Montana, operated by longtime friends Craig & Evie Ekin. For those interested in watching Howard’s demo films, Youtube offers more than a dozen, mostly filmed in the quaint, gender-patronizing style of the 1940-50s.

After an unparalleled lifetime of making bows, movies, and unbroken records, Howard and Elizabeth retired to a large, colonial style home they built in Vincent, which still stands today. Howard passed away in 1975 after a bout with cancer, and Elizabeth, always at his side, joined him in eternal peace less than a year later.

They now lie in repose in the Hodges’ family plot at the New Ashville Cemetery, just inside the fork of its service road. Their headstone is framed with two drawn bows, but nothing else at the site commemorates his world fame. Always the dedicated wife, Elizabeth’s marker does not show her birth date, only a final one, so as to not draw attention to the difference in their ages.

Margaret McLain describes Howard and Elizabeth’s life together as “a very long love story. She was his greatest fan.”

For a story on how Howard Hill touched the author’s life, read the print or digital version of Discover The Essence of St. Clair October & November 2014 edition.

Blair Farm

blair-farm-odenville-2An Odenville Landmark

Story by Carol Pappas
Photography by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

A weathered, vintage sign points the way from US 411 in Odenville. Tarnished by age, it’s hard to tell where its burgundy background ends and the rust begins. As you get a little closer, the white letters and arrow come into view, whimsically giving more specific directions: “Over Yonder.”

Follow the arrow’s path, and it leads you down Blair Farm Road to where else? Blair Farm.

In its 1950s heyday, its 240 acres hosted cattle, horses, ponies, a Clydesdale named Blue Boy Snow and a family by the name of Blair. Dwight Blair Jr., known as “Jobby,” bought the farm in 1952 and moved there with his wife, Margaret Drennen Blair, and their 2-year-old son, Dwight Blair III. Little sisters Dana and Carol would follow in the years to come.

It was the beginning of a new story for a World War II hero turned stock broker turned horse trader — or better yet, trader of all sorts — said his son Dwight III, now a prominent Pell City attorney. “He was a real wheeler dealer.”

His father would advertise horses and ponies for sale in the Birmingham News, and families would usually arrive on a Sunday to look them over. “Kids would become enamored with the ponies,” Dwight said. “They would say, ‘Dad, please let us have this pony!,’ and the father would say they would come back.” The thinly veiled excuse was they didn’t have a truck with them.

But Dwight says his father was not to be deterred from the sale. “He was a master at removing the back seat of a four-door car” to show kids and father alike just how those children’s dream actually could come true.

“Many a pony went from here with their head stuck out of the back window,” he said. Before they drove away, the wheeler dealer always added: “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give you half of what you paid.”

The stories of his father aren’t always as lighthearted. In 1943, he was a bombardier in the Army Air Corps and was shot down in North Africa. He was in his turret, firing at a German plane and killed the fighter pilot.

The German plane started a nosedive and then quickly reversed direction, clipping the nose of the American plane. It spiraled to the ground, killing seven of his father’s crewmates. Only he and one other survived but were captured. He was wounded in his left leg, and 15 pieces of shrapnel remained. Reported missing in action, he spent more than two years in a German prison camp, escaping one time by jumping off a train. But he discovered he could not get far because of his leg injury, and he was recaptured.

In 1945, although presumed dead since his capture, he was released in a wounded prisoner exchange and headed back home to a hero’s welcome reported on the front page of the Age Herald, which later became Birmingham Post-Herald.

He went back to school at The University of Alabama and after graduation, he did post-graduate work at Wharton School of Business in Philadelphia and became a stock broker in Birmingham.

In 1946, he married Margaret Drennen, who was from a prominent Birmingham family. “Her father asked her, ‘Are you sure you want to live out in Odenville, where you will have nothing but chickens and horse manure?’ And she said, yes,” her son recounted the story his mother told him.

In 1952, they bought a small farm where Moody High School is today, but sold it and quickly bought the 240 acres on both sides of what is now Blair Farm Road.

He remained a stockbroker until 1958 when he decided to leave the big city working life behind for good and sell horses, ponies and cattle full time along with running a tractor and car lot in Leeds called Traders Inc.

He had about 50 head of cattle and 20 to 30 horses and ponies along with the farm’s familiar fixture — Blue Boy Snow — on the sprawling open pastures. “They were everywhere,” Dwight recalled as he motioned around the property. A monument to the Clydesdale, a Blair Farm resident from 1959 to 1991 who weighed more than 2,000 pounds, still stands in the shade of a towering oak tree in one of those pastures.

blair-farm-odenville-3Today’s Blair Farm looks a bit different than those early days of wide-open pastures and a homeplace probably built in the 1890s. It was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. It was replaced in 1953 with the house passersby see now. A barn, believed to be built in that same turn-of-the-century time, still remains. Its square nails rather than round ones hint at its age. “It’s amazing it has weathered time like it has,” he said, noting that its only change has been adding a metal roof.

Other weathered barns and sheds are scattered around the property.

Austin Dwight Blair, the fourth Dwight in the lineage, now helps his own father with upkeep of the land. It helps to have Sheriff Terry Surles and Probate Judge Mike Bowling cut hay from it for their cattle. And friends and family come there to relax, skeet shoot or hunt. “It’s a place where everybody comes and feels comfortable,” Austin said.

Now a broker in commercial real estate for LAH in Birmingham, Austin likes returning to the place he rode horses as a child and had his very own pony, Freddy Boy.

For Dwight, it’s full circle. Up to about age 13, he thought it was a wondrous place. But teenagers tend to gravitate toward more action, and he took advantage of every opportunity to spend time away from the farm with friends in Leeds and Birmingham.

Then it was off to college, a scholarship to play running back at Vanderbilt University and later, law school at Cumberland School of Law.

In the midst of a successful and understandably busy career, Dwight likes coming back to the quiet of what has become a “weekend place” now. He raises pheasant and quail, and a couple of German Short Haired Pointers named Hansel and Gretel seem as content to call it home as his father did.

It is a story not unlike countless family farms in and around St. Clair County. They, too, have weathered time with their own tales to tell.

Department Store Days

mays-and-jones-store-1When Mays & Jones was the place to shop

Story by Jerry C. Smith
Photos by Wallace
Bromberg Jr.

Submitted photos

Its motto might well have been MOUNTAIN BROOK GOODS AT PELL CITY PRICES. The owners of Mays & Jones Department Store spared no effort to bring the finest merchandise to their establishment.

From 1923 until its closing in the mid 1970s, Mays & Jones was the premier clothing and linens emporium in Pell City, and according to many who worked and traded there, the store’s business personality mirrored the quality of its goods.

Originally built in 1905 as Pell City Bank & Trust by the town’s founder, Sumter Cogswell, the building was remodeled in 1923 as Mays & Jones Department Store. Its construction was of brick made at Ragland Brick Company. Although solely owned by local retailer Blair Jones, he added his wife’s maiden name to the store’s façade to show that it was indeed a family business.

Pell City resident Florence Compton, now 89 years of age but looking 60, relates that she loved every minute of her 31 years as their bookkeeper. Her career began in 1943, just after she graduated from Pell City High School. “It was a wonderful place to work,” she says. “Mr. Jones had a heart of gold and would bend over backward to see that every customer was able to find exactly what they wanted.”

Mays & Jones was not without competition. Downtown Pell City hosted other stores that carried similar inventory, such as Mitnick’s, Cohen’s and Roberson’s. Lorene Smith, who started her long career in Ladies’ and Childrens’ Shoes in 1946, often accompanied Mr. Jones on buying expeditions to ensure the store carried only the best medium-range goods. Jones also had buyers who went to dealerships in New York and elsewhere. He wanted his store to be the destination of choice for local folks who wanted uptown quality at an affordable price.

Garland Davis of Mineral Springs Road tells that he and twin brother, Harland, often picked blackberries at 50 cents per gallon to pay for their school clothes and would never think of buying them anywhere other than Mays & Jones.

Former store manager Mack Taylor, who served from 1968 until 1971, advanced their trade even further by arranging for advertising fliers, originally printed for Bob Cornett’s local newspaper, St. Clair Observer, to also be inserted in the Birmingham News. Soon customers were coming in from all over. Taylor says there were often 40-50 people waiting for the doors to open on sale days, many of them from Birmingham, Ragland and Ashville.

Most store employees had long tenure and displayed a strong loyalty to Mr. Jones. Florence and co-worker Lorene recall working with Jones’ wife Dixie Ann; Virginia Nelson; Linda & Etha May Haynes; Carolyn Robertson; June Tillery; twin sisters Clara & Mary Mays; Warner Hammett; Tommy Davis; Mildred Hardwick; Thurman Henninger; Nettie & Mary Cornett; Dixie Ann’s brother “Buddy” Mays; Peggy Pruett; Louella Starnes; Helen Hutton; Florence’s sister Clara May Compton; and Thurman Burnham. They also recall Tom and Essie Lovell, who worked together. He was in floor sales, and she handled clothing alterations.

Thurman “Red” Henninger created eye-catching window displays. He later set up his own Red’s Menswear store on Martin Street, next to the old Jack’s location. “Bunny” Beavers was janitor and also managed the stock room, which stayed very busy due to their ample stocks and liberal layaway plan.

Customers first
The store’s normal complement was eight to 10 workers, mostly in floor sales. As with many firms in those days, there were few of the benefits people take for granted today. Workers were paid a flat monthly salary. They worked six full days a week, except Wednesdays, when everything in town closed at noon. All hands were expected to be there promptly at opening time, formally dressed and ready to work. Everyone stayed until the last customer had been served.

This policy sometimes became irksome as last-minute customers dropped in, particularly on Fridays, shopped at great leisure, then left without buying anything. Employees were not allowed to clean up or shut down any department as long as a customer was in the store.

Many part-time extras, usually teenagers, were hired during big sales and the holiday season. Their layaway system saw heavy use during these times. Large numbers of paychecks were cashed on Fridays, some from the ordnance works at Bynum, but mostly from Avondale Mills. And you did not have to be a regular customer. Mr. Jones felt that, if he cashed enough checks, you would soon shop there because of their thoughtful service.

mays-and-jones-store-2Among Mays & Jones’ product offerings were shoes for the whole family; women’s coats, dresses, stockings, lingerie and sportswear; men’s suits and haberdashery items; some house linens; and other soft goods.

They also ordered custom uniforms for local banks and other firms with staff who served the public.

At one time the store sold toys and other home items, but its inventory eventually centered around clothing and personal items. Brands included Jarman, Sewell, Connie and Red Goose shoes, and Arrow and Van Heusen shirts.

Levi jeans were a best seller. Made from local Avondale Mills denim, these were not pre-shrunk. Many fashion-conscious buyers would put them on wet, then let them shrink-dry to conform to their body shape.

The shoe department sported an X-Ray machine, common in those days before we became aware of the dangers of radiation. Most often used on growing children, these devices displayed a live image of the bones of both feet inside a shadow image of the shoes. Youngsters gleefully wiggled their toes while Mom and the sales clerk studied a green screen inside the darkened cabinet to determine toe-room for growth. Thankfully, these well-intentioned hazards went away in the middle 1950s.

Lorene adds, “You wouldn’t believe how many people tried on shoes on the wrong feet. And one lady said she needed a larger size because her feet “expired real bad.”

Gerald Ensley related a story about buying shoes during World War II. In those days, leather was a strategic material needed for the war effort, so purchases were made using ration stamps, with only one pair a year allowed. Gerald’s mother had given him a stamp, and told him to buy some school shoes for the coming term on their charge account.

Gerald was told to buy brogans, a simple, inexpensive, rugged shoe whose un-cured war-time leather often wrinkled and discolored when wet. Upon reaching the store, however, Gerald first did a little window shopping, and noticed a fine-looking pair of patent leather shoes on a mannequin. Mom or not, he decided that’s what he wanted.

Mr. Jones told Gerald that he knew his mother had not sent him there to buy those, as such shoes often came apart from the rigors of being on a young boy’s feet. But Gerald insisted, and left the store sporting snazzy, shiny patent leather shoes.

Unfortunately, it had been raining that day, and the way back was sodden with mud holes and puddles. By the time Gerald got home, his fine new shoes had loose, flapping soles and had long since lost their glassy sheen.

A helping hand
Mays & Jones had a long-standing reputation for helping those in need. Florence relates that they had more than a thousand credit customers. Taylor tells of an unemployed truck driver who came there looking for work clothes but had no money. He was given clothes on credit, and as soon as the man got his first paycheck, returned with a payment. Further, he brought Taylor 5 pounds of shrimp from his new job of transporting seafood from Florida, and thence used the store for all his family’s clothing needs.

Taylor says that Mr. Jones customarily spoke to everyone, even people walking by on the sidewalk. Lorene adds, “He didn’t spend his day sitting back there in his office; he was out front greeting customers.” He was known for commiserating with townsfolk in needy circumstances, offering kindly advice as well as goods. A dedicated community man who never refused to make a charitable donation, Jones served as an officer in the Chamber of Commerce and Lions Club and was a devout Methodist.

The building’s second floor was reserved for rentals to business clients, among them the Pell City DHR office. Current building trustee, attorney Ted Van Dall, says that during the building’s hundred-year-plus history there has always been at least one lawyer upstairs. Attorney/judge Edwin Holladay was once a tenant. Dr. R.A. Martin’s brother, Claude, had a dental office there.

Another one-time tenant, Bill Hereford, was a former attorney, judge and mayor of Pell City. He says the front windows were helpful to lawyers because they could see who was walking with whom from the courthouse to Rexall for lunch and who visited other law firms on the square.

Hereford purchased the Jones’ family home on 3rd Avenue North in 1987 and still lives there today. It’s a magnificent old dwelling, faithfully preserved except the old steam radiators and attic fan have been upgraded to central heat and air.

He tells that the Jones family had the first television set in Pell City in the early 1950s and that Jones delighted in inviting neighborhood kids in to watch the Saturday shows. Jones’ daughter, Dixie Ann Newman, was a former legal client of Hereford’s.

After Jones’ passing in 1968, the business was owned for a few years by Dixie Ann’s family, the Newmans, before the main store was shut down in the early 1970s. Some remaining inventory was moved to another short-lived location in the present Ben M. Jacobs Masonic Lodge building. Established by Mack Taylor, this new store was called Mays & Jones Home Goods.

In 1975, the original building suffered major damage in a tornado that struck downtown. Various other firms have since occupied its repaired premises, which now hosts Farmer’s Insurance Company. The old bank safe and vault still exist, far back in a rear corner. It’s always left open and unused because the combination is long-forgotten. It’s only been robbed once, by someone who chiseled a hole through the second floor, then blasted the safe with dynamite. The yegg was never caught.

Both Florence and Lorene speak highly of their days at Mays & Jones, naming it an ideal place to work and shop. Most anyone over age 60 in Pell City will attest to its quality, fairness, and genuine concern for customers that brought them back year after year.

Fore more images of Mays & Jones Department Store, read the full digital or print edition of the August & September 2014 edition of Discover The Essence of St. Clair Magazine.

Pell City Works

Pell-City-works

Smithsonian coming to town

davis-general-store-insideStory by Carol Pappas
Photos by Wally Bromberg
and Graham Hadley
Submitted photos

Pete Rich pulled back the curtain of the bright-red photomat booth and stepped outside. His signature grin that seemingly stretches from ear to ear unmistakably revealed what had just happened.

He had told his story — the story of his family, of his life and of his work — to a camera lens inside the booth. And he was proud to tell it. He was prouder still that it will be shared for years to come.

It was an oral history that was recorded for a statewide video produced by Alabama Public Television for the Smithsonian Institution’s Museum on Main Street program coming to Pell City in July.

Rich was among 25 Pell City citizens who shared their story in April that will be shown on the ‘big screen’ at CEPA — The Pell City Center for Education and the Performing Arts — during a five-week exhibition called The Way We Worked.

Made possible through a partnership of the Smithsonian Institution and Alabama Humanities Foundation with support from Alabama Power Foundation and Norfolk Southern Railroad, only six cities are chosen to host the traveling exhibit on its yearlong tour through the state.

It is part of the national Museum on Main Street program, which travels to smaller towns and cities to provide an opportunity for their citizens to tour a Smithsonian exhibit.

pell-city-works-MOMSPell City kicks off the exhibit tour, which will be held at CEPA July 19 through Aug. 23.

The centerpiece of the exhibition is an actual Smithsonian exhibit exploring how America worked over the past 150 years. It is a 600-square-foot display of old photographs, narratives and interactive elements that help tell that story.

Surrounding it will be local exhibits detailing the work and history from around St. Clair County, primarily the southern region. Artifacts and old photographs will tell the story of Avondale Mills, the building of Logan Martin Dam, the creation of Logan Martin Lake, constructing U.S. 231 and myriad other history-making events that comprise the region’s past.

“We are so proud to be hosting this exhibition,” said Pam Foote, project director. “We thank the Alabama Humanities Foundation and the Smithsonian Institution for giving our citizens and our young people this rare opportunity — an opportunity they might not have otherwise — to see an actual Smithsonian exhibit.”

As an added benefit, “we get to put our signature on this event with our own local exhibits. Our committee of planners is busy gathering old photographs and artifacts from all sectors of the community to transform the grand lobby of CEPA into an impressive exploration into our past.”

Tour guides, or docents, will take individuals and groups on a visual journey of America and the region’s rich history of work. Free, special events will be held in conjunction with the exhibition, including an evening made possible by the Pell City Library with best-selling author and Pulitzer Prize winner Rick Bragg in August. Bragg’s The Most They Ever Had, a compilation of real-life stories of America’s cotton mills, will be the focus of his talk.

Alabama’s master storyteller Dolores Hydock will present the life and work of Norman Rockwell.

Alabama’s mobile training lab, a robotics display that is a tractor-trailer-truck long, will be onsite for three days to give an impressive view of how the world works now and in the future.

And other events are being developed, like Denim Day, when everyone is encouraged to wear denim in remembrance of Avondale Mills, Pell City’s grandfather industry.

On the movie screen in CEPA’s theatre, the oral history project will play throughout the exhibition, providing opportunities to hear the stories told firsthand not only by Pell Citians but by Alabamians from around the state.

“This is truly a coming together of our whole community around our past, and the oral history project took on a life of its own,” said Deanna Lawley, who with husband, Barnett Lawley, coordinated it. “The stories were so touching, and they gave us a real glimpse into our community’s rich heritage of work.”

The “Red Box” will return at exhibition time, and additional oral histories will be recorded for posterity. “It is so important for us to preserve these memories. They are the stories and events that shaped us as a community,” Lawley said.

Dr. John Kvach is lead scholar on the Smithsonian project for Alabama Humanities, and he led a workshop for teachers and administrators from Pell City and St. Clair schools. Five video cameras were donated to the Pell City School System to record future oral histories, and Curriculum Coordinator Kim Williams said oral histories will now become part of the system’s curriculum from now on.

“Our teachers were so excited after Dr. Kvach’s workshop,” Williams said. There is a new enthusiasm among teachers from kindergarten all the way up to 12th-grade for incorporating oral histories in their teaching. “What a novel approach to connecting students with older generations and helping them not only learn but understand history from those who have lived it.”

The exhibit is open to the public, and school tours are being scheduled as well. In addition, if a group, club, church, senior center or other organizations would like to schedule a tour, they are asked to call 205-338-1974 to book their tour.

“We want this to be a region-wide event celebrating our history, and we encourage all who can to come and tour our museum on main street,” Foote said. “There will be plenty of opportunities to reminisce, to learn and to understand this thing we call history.”

Organizers hope that it will be an opportunity for the future, too. Pell City does not have a museum, and discussion is now centering on this event being a springboard for the establishment of a museum for the city.

“With every display, we have had our eye on the future and how elements of this exhibit can be used in a full-fledged museum,” she said. “People are getting excited, not only about the prospects of this event coming to town but what it can mean in coming years. This has been a great experience for our community, and we hope that the momentum continues.

For more information, visit the Pell City Works Website: www.pellcityworks.org

Historic Vision

Eye doctor preserves old Ashville bank building

ashville-bank-restorationStory by Carol Pappas
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

When Dr. Shonda Wood was looking for a place to open her eye care office, she found the perfect location inside a piece of Ashville’s history.

Wood Family Eye Care is the newest occupant of the old Ashville Savings Bank, built in 1906.

“We refinished the inside and made it ours,” Wood said. “Terry Marcrum, the previous owner, gave us a really good start, and Brian Sparks Construction helped with the finishing touches.”  It is a complementary blend of old and new, featuring state-of-the-art eye care with the unmistakable signs of history all around. A photo on the wall is from 1908. The walls themselves, are original brick and plaster. “We tried not to touch what was still in good condition,” Wood said.

The original brickwork is there. So is the door and window. There is a new version of tin tiles on the ceiling to bring back the feel of what it was once like.

Even the front of the bank vault door is still intact — a focal point on the facing wall as you walk in. An old Ashville Savings Bank sign was found during renovations of the building, and that has its place, as does a 1910 stove. “Kids like to hide crayons in there,” Wood said.

Since the renovation, remembrances of the old building have been abundant, she said. One person identified loan papers of his grandfather found in the vault. Others have recounted when the bank president shot a robber in the doorway. “There have been a lot of stories,” she said.

Her wish was to be “true to history,” and she wanted to be a part of bringing it back to life and preserving it. She has restored the old and added new. A modern addition is in the rear of the office, enabling her to deliver comprehensive eye care — from babies to seniors.

“We treat the overall patient,” she said, noting that she monitors for diabetes, cataracts and other eye issues. “We don’t want this to be just an eye exam. We want them to be a friend, not just a patient.”

It’s why she opened her practice in Ashville in the first place. Originally from Fayette, she was looking for another small town in which to live and to practice. “We wanted a small town feel and a close knit community for our children.”

She found all of what she was looking for in St. Clair County. She, her husband, Jonathan, and five children live in nearby Springville, and her office is centrally located in downtown Ashville.

It all has been an ideal match, she said. She was looking for a building “with character,” and the old Ashville Savings Bank was in need of a revival.

“I think more people should do that,” Wood said. “Our grandkids aren’t going to see many buildings like this if we keep tearing them down or letting them fall.”

Camp Sibert

CAMP-SIBERT-smoke-generator

St. Clair’s secret military past

Story by Leigh Pritchett
Submitted photos courtesy of the
Scarboro Collection, John McFarland and
government archives

Etowah County spent much of World War II shooting at St. Clair County.

That is the lighthearted explanation that historian John McFarland of Rainbow City gives for the “friendly fire” relationship the two counties shared.

Nonetheless, his summary is factual: The woodlands of St. Clair and Etowah counties cloaked a military installation’s clandestine mission.

Called Camp Sibert, the reservation stretched 36,300 acres. Attalla and Gadsden served as the boundary on the Etowah County end of the camp. In St. Clair, Sibert extended into Steele and nearly to Ashville. The installation’s other two boundaries basically were U.S. 411 on one side and U.S. 11 on the other, said Wayne Findley, instructor at Gadsden State Community College and a historian who has spent 25 years researching the camp.

“It was huge, massive,” Findley said of Sibert.

And yes, Etowah did take aim at St. Clair, possibly millions of times.

That is because equipment was set up in the vicinity of Dunaway Mountain in Etowah County, very near to the border of St. Clair. During training sessions, mortar and bigger artillery were fired across Canoe Creek into St. Clair, explained Findley.

“The Chemical Warfare Service loved this place” because troops could use live rounds and chemicals, Findley remarked.

The mission of the camp was so stealth that soldiers were bound by an oath of secrecy, Findley said. They were not released from it until the 1990s, and those who lived around the camp apparently knew little of its mission.

“The people didn’t know a whole lot of what was going on in Camp Sibert,” only that some chemical weapons were involved, said 88-year-old Fred Rogers of Chandler Mountain in Steele. He was a teenager when the camp was established.

Yet, some facets of the camp were highly publicized and helped to promote the war effort. One piece of memorabilia in McFarland’s extensive Sibert collection is an October 1943 Senior Scholastic reader, whose cover photograph is of a smoke generator creating a smoke screen at the camp.

camp-sibert-joe-lewisFindley also noted that Sibert fielded a baseball team – the Gas House Gang – that won a state championship. Plus, the camp’s band was sent on tours as an encouragement to citizens to be proud of their military.

The work to establish Camp Sibert commenced three months after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.

According to a chronology Findley has composed, the U.S. Army on March 13, 1942, inspected the site under consideration for Camp Sibert.

“Six days later, the area in northeastern Alabama was chosen over similar areas in West Virginia and Texas,” states an article written by Findley and fellow researcher Joseph T. Robertson (now deceased) for the January 1995 edition of The Alabama Review: A Quarterly Journal of Alabama History.

Fred Rogers noted that the expanse encompassed by the camp was known as the “flatwoods area” because it consisted of farmland and forestation, with few roads. “It was perfect for what they wanted to do with it,” Findley said.

According to The Review article, the site had to possess certain features needed for chemical warfare training: a secluded place where toxic gas could be used, basically level terrain for tanks and armored vehicles, and wetlands and forestation for bivouacs.

In June 1942 the government began issuing “Declarations of Taking” to obtain the necessary properties, the chronology states.

St. Clair County probate records available at Ashville Museum and Archives list owner after owner whose land the government was acquiring and the compensation each person was receiving. Some of the entities affected by the acquisition were Deerman’s Chapel Church and Deerman’s School, among others.

In all, 557 tracts of land in Etowah and St. Clair were involved in the acquisition, states The Review. “With the assistance of the Farm Security Administration, all 339 families who resided in the area were relocated with no major problems. Construction of the camp began immediately.”

Also in June 1942, a “tent city” formed to quarter those who would work on the camp before permanent accommodations were available, Findley’s chronology shows. The next month, the first trainees arrived.

On Christmas Day 1942, the camp was dedicated, “although it was only 80 percent complete. By the summer of 1943, the camp was self-sufficient” and could accommodate as many as 30,000 soldiers. With 41 miles of roads, the camp boasted 1,500 buildings, among them a hospital, theater and prison stockade, according to The Review.

Findley and McFarland said the camp also had an airport, store, chapel, lighted tennis courts, boxing ring and its own newspaper.

The scope of Camp Sibert was a premier undertaking. “Never before in the history of the Chemical Warfare Service had such an extensive facility been provided for instruction in the tactics and techniques of chemical warfare,” The Review states.

The “Post War Utilization Studies,” a War Department document dated September 1945, placed the total cost of construction and land acquisition at about $17.66 million.

The installation was named for Etowah native Maj. Gen. William Luther Sibert. During World War I, Sibert was handpicked by Gen. John Pershing to command the first U.S. soldiers into France in 1917, The Review reveals. “Because of his experiences, Sibert would be appointed the first Chief of the Chemical Warfare Services.”

At the time of World War II, some thoroughfares in Etowah and St. Clair were known by different names, Findley said. For example, the present-day U.S. 411 was “U.S. 11” then. What is now U.S. 11 was “Alternate 11.”

While the camp was in operation, names of some other roads were different too, stated McFarland. Pleasant Valley Road was “Range Road” and the site of Gate No. 2, while Canoe Creek Road bore the moniker “Impact Road.”

Findley added that the stretch from Attalla to Camp Sibert on what would later become Alabama 77 was called “Gate No. 1.”

The camp’s restriction on civilian traffic created a bit of a logistics problem for people in Steele who needed to go to other parts of St. Clair County.

“We couldn’t go through Camp Sibert to get to Ashville, the county seat,” Fred Rogers remembers. Residents in that part of St. Clair had to travel along “Alternate 11” to Whitney and on to what is now U.S. 231 in order to get to Ashville.

Though younger than his brother Fred, 85-year-old Hoover Rogers of Chandler Mountain also recalls a few things about the camp. One recollection is of seeing uniformed soldiers, with weapons in hands, coming over that mountain on training marches.

“I was intrigued by them and wondered where some of them were from,” said Hoover Rogers, who was a teen at that particular time in history.

He also remembers that word would get around when a celebrity, such as funnyman Red Skelton, was stationed at the camp.

Skelton was not the only famous person to be assigned to the camp. Heavyweight boxing champion Joe Louis, featherweight champion Bobby Ruffin and actor Mickey Rooney also trained there, Findley said.

In fact, Rooney met one of his many wives while stationed there, Findley said.

McFarland, who gives presentations at the University of Alabama-Gadsden Center, described the camp as “a catch-all.” In addition to chemical warfare instruction for entire units and for individuals who were to become replacements, the camp also provided basic training to recruits and housed prisoners of war.

Originally, its POW camp was a satellite of the one at Fort McClellan in neighboring Calhoun County. However, it soon became a separate entity, even incarcerating some of Adolph Hitler’s elite SS, or “storm troopers” as they were called, The Review reveals.

By mid-March of 1944, more than 12,000 soldiers and 88 combat units had received training at the camp, reported Findley.

In all, 169 US chemical warfare units were instructed there, a number that represented 47 percent of all such American units involved in World War II, The Review states. Of the 169 units, “44 were Black units.”

McFarland said Black soldiers generally were in smoke generator units or clerical positions, while Caucasian soldiers tended to be members of chemical mortar battalions.

In the spring and summer of 1945, the dynamics of World War II changed significantly, ultimately sealing the destiny of Camp Sibert.

With Germany surrendering first and Japan following a few months later, the need for the camp’s services greatly diminished.

In September of that year, the War Department issued its “Post War Utilization Studies,” on whether to make Sibert a permanent camp capable of accommodating 19,950 enlisted men, plus officers. Such an endeavor was estimated at $45 million. For this and other reasons, the project was deemed unfeasible.

As a result, the camp was decommissioned; the fixtures and contents were rendered to surplus; properties were sold to the original owners or to interested parties; and land, buildings and infrastructures were given to municipalities.

The Rogers brothers experienced some of the results.

After the war, Fred Rogers worked at AAA Pottery in Attalla, a business that was housed in old Army buildings. He later taught and was principal in a school situated on former camp property.

Hoover Rogers was a teacher and later principal of Chandler Mountain School, which benefited from surplus goods from the camp.

Their older brother, Henry (now deceased), purchased some Steele property that had been part of the camp and built his house there. Henry also worked as a civilian on “fire watch” (patrol duty) at the decommissioned camp until it was completely closed. When all surplus items were relocated and warehoused in Etowah County’s Glencoe, his job moved there, too, according to his brothers.

As a teen, Findley attended junior high in what had been the officers’ club. In the lunchroom, the autographs of Red Skelton and Mickey Rooney were still prominent. Findley also climbed chimneys that had been part of the camp hospital and collected brass he found near the rifle range.

McFarland, who lives in Etowah County close to the St. Clair border, resides on property that was within the cantonment of Camp Sibert. A few years ago, he received notification that his property qualified for a government cleanup effort.

Some 40 years after World War II, Congress determined that former defense sites should be cleaned up, according to Lisa Parker, deputy public affairs officer for the Mobile District of the Army Corps of Engineers.

It was the intent of Congress “to restore properties formerly owned by, leased to, or otherwise possessed by the U.S. and under the jurisdiction of the Secretary of Defense,” Parker stated.

Of the St. Clair sites that were investigated for possible cleanup, only one was found to need attention, noted the Corps of Engineers. Work at that site — which includes an area in Steele, close to Interstate 59 — is in progress.

Among the items already discovered are “4.2 mortars, .30-caliber rifle, machine gun, .22-caliber rifle, sub-machine gun, .45-caliber pistol, grenade, artillery, bazookas and anti-aircrafts,” said Parker.

Editor’s Note: Additional assistance with this article was provided by Charlene Simpson of Ashville Museum and Archives, RoseMary Hyatt of Northeast Alabama Genealogical Society, Pat Coffee of the Town of Steele, Jody Gilliland of Chandler Mountain Baptist Church and Jack Hayes of American Legion Post 109, Pell City.