Top Photo: Keith Little Badger, Cherokee tribe of Northeast Alabama, surveys area
Story by Mackenzie Free and Carol Pappas Photos by Mackenzie Free
Charlie Abercrombie has a history on this mountain, dating all the way back to the War of 1812 and a man by the name of Chandler.
That’s why today’s fight to save it meant so much to so many. For Charlie, it was personal.
Many joined the fight along the way and for varying reasons – from newcomers to old timers. It was personal to them, too.
Mackenzie Free, a photographer for Discover Magazine, joined the effort and was a vocal advocate in the Save Chandler Mountain movement. She lives in the mountain’s valley on the same land her husband’s family raised generations. Mackenzie and her family stood to lose it all – just like Charlie – if Alabama Power’s quest to build a hydro dam there succeeded.
Charlie Abercrombie on the dam on family’s land
It didn’t.
This is but one story among many, painting the picture of how history could be lost so easily. Here are excerpts from Charlie’s story that Mackenzie shared on social media at the height of the fight to save the mountain:
This is Charlie Abercrombie.
Out of all the folks I’ve met since moving out to the Steele/Chandler Mountain area 10 years ago, he might very well be one of my favorites.
I “think” he said he’s 77 years old, but I might be mistaken because he’s far too sprightly and agile for that to be correct.
He’s very charming and intelligent and has a memory that far exceeds mine.
He is also humble, hardworking and takes a lot of pride in his land.
You see, this land he calls home is special.
Very special …
His property was part of a presidential land grant from the U.S. government to Mr. Joel Chandler (yes, Chandler… as in ‘Chandler Mountain’) for fighting along with Andrew Jackson in the war of 1812.
A short while later, in the early 1840s, a grist mill (grinding wheat to flour and corn to meal) was built here. It was powered by water… this dam and Little Canoe Creek.
One of the pictographs found on the mountain
Mr. Abercrombie’s great grandfather later purchased this property and grist mill from the daughter of Joel Chandler in 1896. Let me reiterate that … 1896!!
(*To put that in perspective this property has been in his family longer than Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arizona, Alaska, and Hawaii, have been a part of the United States!!!)
This land is more than just his home… its history!
It’s his heritage.
It’s sewn into the very fiber of who he is.
It’s his legacy.
And you’ll find that is a common theme for most of these families (mine included) that stand to lose everything their forefathers fought so hard to protect.
It’s more than land … it’s bigger than that.
It’s not money either … it’s about history, heritage and the American dream.
Land has always been a staple of the American dream. From the Mayflower Compact of 1620, to the Homestead Act of 1862, all the way down to the ongoing battle we face to preserve what we have today … land has always been a integral component and driving force for the American way of life.
Mr. Abercrombie’s family worked their entire lives to earn, maintain and preserve the land they have for the next generation.
He is a steward of this land and the natural wonders around him … just as his great grandfather was.
He stands to lose it all.
The same sentiment played out across the mountain and down in the valley. They treasure the land, and they want to preserve it for future generations.
People like Fran Summerlin, Ben Lyon, Leo Galleo and a host of others led what did indeed become a movement to stop the project. The Alabama Rivers Alliance lauded them with an award for what was called a valiant battle.
The consensus was that the mountain isn’t just a geologic formation, it stands as a monument to history and heritage. It still stands because people cared enough to get involved in a fray most didn’t think they could win. But, they did.
Native American groups stepped in with support for preservation of land their ancestors once lived. Twinkle Cavanaugh and Chip Beeker of the Alabama Public Service Commission visited the mountain, heard the group’s pleas and decided their votes on Alabama Power’s proposal would be ‘no.’
Within days, Alabama Power announced it was cancelling its plans.
Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve kicks off education program
Story by Roxann Edsall Photos by Mackenzie Free
Wattle, caruncle, snood! Characters in a Dr. Seuss book? Though quite amusing to say, and quite like the nonsensical words used in the works of children’s author Theodore Geisel, these are real words that describe features of a gobbler, a tom, or a hen or simply a turkey.
The wattle is that flap of skin under the turkey’s chin, while the caruncle are fleshy bumps on the turkey’s head and throat. The snood is the fleshy flap that hangs just above the turkey’s beak.
Fun facts about turkeys kept the attention of dozens of young people and their parents at the Youth Turkey Call Expo, held at Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve in Springville to kick off its education program. The Preserve opened in March, and the education component will be a key focus.
Traci Ingleright helps a child practice using a turkey call
The goal was to get kids outdoors and learning about the sport of wild turkey hunting, an activity they can do now with adults and continue to enjoy into adulthood. They learned about turkey behavior, their habitats, turkey calling and about habitat management.
If you’re wandering around the woods and find a turkey feather, don’t worry, that bird has quite a few more…about 6,000 more. And if you want to find that turkey, you’re going to want a locator call. There are basically three types of turkey calls – locator, diaphragm (or mouth) and friction.
Locators help to find where the turkeys are. Diaphragm-type calls are those that are held in the mouth, and sound is made by forcing air through them. Friction calls use a rubbing motion to make sound and include push-button, box and slate calls. Which type a hunter uses depends on his or her need at the time and their skills and preference.
“My favorite is a slate call,” said Miller Gauntt, already a seasoned hunter at 12 years old. His dad, Trey Gauntt, took him on his first hunt six years ago. “He didn’t even want to take a gun,” says Trey. “But I killed a turkey that day, and he changed his mind.” Miller says what he likes most is hearing them gobble. “100 percent it’s hearing them gobble … and being outside.”
Male turkeys are called gobblers or toms. Females are hens, and young turkeys are called poults.
As three children from one family head home, they excitedly reflect on their favorite lessons of the day. Five-year-old Noah and his 10-year-old brother, Caleb, were particularly impressed with their newfound knowledge on identifying turkey droppings. “Boy turkey poop is shaped like a hockey stick,” says Noah. Caleb completes the lesson by adding that the female’s skat can be identified by its more artistic spiral shape. Macy, their 9-year-old cousin, now knows that turkeys have three toes, a lesson learned this day through pushing a metal impression of a turkey’s foot into a bit of modeling clay.
“I think events like this are crucial to getting people out here,” says David Hopper, senior conservation officer and wildlife biologist for the Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources. “Being a turkey hunter myself, I think it’s imperative to teach kids about the traditional ways of turkey hunting. We want to teach them to be safe and to respect the bird.”
He explains that respecting the turkey includes only killing what you plan to eat. And, if pictures are posted to social media, making sure the bird is cleaned up. “Make sure he’s shown respectfully,” says Hopper. “They’re beautiful creatures.”
Hopper grew up hunting and credits his grandfather as his outdoor mentor. “Turkeys and hunting, period, kind of shaped my career path, down to both degrees I ended up getting,” he says.
“As much as the outdoors and hunting has given to me, it became natural to give back. And the way we give back is to manage these resources so that my kids and their kids and everyone else have these natural resources for the future.”
He was four when his grandfather took him hunting for the first time. It’s a tradition he is planning to carry on with his own children.
Three generations of one family are enjoying the event and learning about the sport. Kyle Mavin, from Springville, has brought his son, Jake, and 5-year-old grandson Rowan to introduce the youngster to the family pastime. “I introduced Jake to hunting when he was a young boy,” says Kyle. “Now we’re introducing Rowan to it together. We wanted to get him outside, away from technology. Today’s been a great day to do that.”
Traci Ingleright leans in to help a child practice using a turkey call. She’s a teacher by day and volunteers with educational events for the National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF). Having grown up turkey hunting with her dad, she is helping to educate future hunters as a tribute to him.
Her dad, Ben Knight, was a two-time world slam turkey hunter. A world slam turkey hunter is one who has harvested one of each of the North American subspecies of wild turkey in a given year.
Another grand slam turkey hunter is helping with another presentation today. Preston York got his single season grand slam in the spring of 2021. A family friend took him turkey hunting when York was 18 years old. “It spurred my love of the outdoors,” he says. “It got me in the woods every day of the season.”
Preston York (left) talks turkey with Trey Gauntt and his son, Miller
Now he’s in the woods a lot as owner of FloMotion Trail Builders, the company that built most of the trails at the Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve and another 200 miles of trails in 40 locations in five states.
The VanWagner family loves coming out to the Preserve. “It’s a huge resource for us,” he says. “I do a lot of hiking and landscape photography, and this is a great place for that.” He has brought his two girls out for the day to enjoy time outdoors and to participate in the turkey call expo.
Eight-year-old Emma can hardly contain her excitement as she talks about her love of these “fuzzy and cute” creatures. She says she’s always wanted to use a turkey call, but that her dad won’t get her one.
Thanks to the vendors who donated prizes for the day, the VanWagner family has a very happy daughter. Emma won her very own turkey call. She’s sure to summon a gobbler soon, complete with wattle, caruncle and snood.
Maybe one day, she’ll be a grand slam turkey hunter, too.
Once historic enemies join forces to keep a proposed dam project off the mountain
Story by Paul South Photos by Mackenzie Free and Leo Galleo
When Seth C. Penn ponders Chandler Mountain, he thinks of the Indigenous peoples who walked the mountaintop 6,000 years before Christ trod the earth.
Darrell Hyatt thinks of generations of his family, who yanked a living from the mountain’s rich soil. The Hyatts came to the area when the only way to navigate the mountain was by wagon, horseback or on foot.
And Joe Whitten, an amateur historian and retired educator who came to St. Clair County in 1961, hiked from the base to the top of the mountain at age 80 and plans to do so again, even at 85.
Their backgrounds are different, but the three men share a love for the mountain and an understanding of the importance of the successful battle to fend off an Alabama Power proposal to build dams there. It was a plan that would have flooded the valley, displaced families and damaged sacred sites and archaeological treasures.
Community comes together for common cause
While bluegrass music at Horse Pens 40 and tomatoes – the area’s iconic signature crop – sprout in the minds of most Alabamians when the name, Chandler Mountain, is mentioned, make no mistake, it is holy ground.
According to Penn, Southeastern Region coordinator for the Indian Nations Conservation Alliance and a citizen of the Cherokee Tribe of Northeast Alabama, all land is sacred for Indigenous peoples, regardless of location. But the mountain is unique.
“Chandler Mountain is an area where tribal territories met,” Penn said. “This was a place inhabited by several different tribes, Cherokee people and Muskogean people as well. This is an area where you could see different looking people, different looking tribes, different languages. That makes the mountain unique unto itself.”
There are archaeological and ecological features on the mountain sacred to the tribes.
“How the water flows, the hydrologic buildup, makeup and processes are important ecologically and also sacred, considering the values of water, plant life and animals,” he said.
Prayers and other ceremonies were conducted on the mountain. And while the story may be apocryphal, it is said that Chandler Mountain is the only place where a peace treaty was signed between the Cherokee and Creek tribes.
“I have never seen that document,” Penn said. “So as far as the credibility of that, it’s very debatable and very questionable. So, my response to that would be, I’d like to see that happen in present time, so that an actual treaty exists.”
One piece of ancient history that does exist are the rock formations, stone structures and Cherokee pictographs, rock art that native peoples may have painted with their fingertips, according to a report by Dr. Harry Holstein, a professor of Chemistry and Geosciences at Jacksonville State University.
These drawings and structures, as well as the stars, all play into the ceremonial and governmental history of the mountain and its ancient inhabitants, Penn said.
“This is a place where we might go to higher ground in search of a spiritual connection. It’s a place where territories met. So, at times we might meet in council-like setting, where topics might be discussed among our tribe or with other tribes even. Trades could also take place,” Penn said.
From a spiritual perspective, he added, “The whole sacred, ceremonial prayer aspect of events that took place – with certain rock features facing certain directions, certain astrological features in line with certain features, that all plays into the ceremonial aspect of it.”
A Family’s Story
With all their earthly belongings, John Hyatt and his wife arrived on horseback from Hurt County, Ga., and settled near the Horse Pens area in 1875, where they homesteaded 120 acres.
“There have been Hyatts on that end of Chandler Mountain ever since,” said John Hyatt’s great-grandson, Darrell.
He lives near the base of the mountain. He can recite his family’s history like a precocious schoolboy. John Hyatt’s brother, Otis, was the first person to farm the tasty Chandler Mountain tomatoes.
But the mountain is about more than tomatoes. Darrell has lived in the Chandler Mountain Valley since 1969, and at his current homestead since 1981. There, he reared his children.
At one time, he pondered moving his family out west. But the tug of home was too strong, the ties too deep. In his family, Darrell has always been known as “the man who came back to the mountain.”
Artifacts found tell story of Native-Americans living on land
“I always knew this mountain was different,” he said. “We could never pull ourselves away. It’s not just the family history. It goes back thousands of years.”
He found paleo-points on the mountain, and he and his wife found the pictographs. In turn, they brought Holstein as well as a rock expert from the University of Tennessee.
“Dr. Holstein said this was the most significant archaeological find on the upper Coosa River drainage area,” Hyatt said.
That archaeological find played a significant role in the defeat of the Alabama Power project.
What would have been the impact of the project if it had moved forward? Often, before Alabama Power shelved the plan, Darrell imagined his last day in his beloved valley, where his kids grew up and where he walked the mountain, climbed its rocks and contemplated the world in solitude.
One of the dams would have been built within 1,000 feet of his home. Rocky Hollow, the Mount Lebanon Cemetery, a number of archeological treasures and dozens of families would have been washed away.
The Hiker
Darrell remembers the first time he and Joe Whitten hiked the mountain, following Steele Gap Road. Whitten was 80.
“Joe, are you ready to stop?,” he would ask.
“Where’s the top?,” Whitten replied. Hyatt pointed upward.
“Let’s go,” Whitten said. And they did. “I think I can do it again,” he added.
Whitten talks of the importance of Chandler Mountain to the quality of life of St. Clair County and to its economy.
“It was in a remote section of the county that the pioneers made a beautiful place of,” Whitten said. “As time progressed, they tried various fruits. They grew peaches there for a time, but the tomatoes made the mountain famous.”
The Alliance
Two groups that history saw often at odds, the Indigenous tribes and new settlers of the 19th century, joined with the City of Steele and Montgomery politicians to fight the utility. The fight continues because the utility still owns significant acreage there.
In the face of opposition from locals, as well as Public Service Commission President Twinkle Cavanaugh, Alabama Power Company scrapped its plans to build a hydroelectric storage project and remove homeowners from Chandler Mountain in August 2023. The utility withdrew its efforts to seek a license from the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission.
In these politically fractured times, is there a lesson to be learned from the alliance that fought it?
Flat top of mountain a distinctive characteristic
“Absolutely,” Darrell said. “This community in my eyes was starting to lose itself. (The dam project) pulled everybody together.”
In local folklore, it’s told that John Hyatt built the market road down the backside of the mountain near what’s now U.S. 231, in an area known as Hyatt’s Gap. And the mountain can be seen from Alabama’s highest peak, Mount Cheaha.
“It’s very distinct,” he said. “And I think the Native Americans saw that, too. It’s sacred. Very sacred to them.”
Whitten said that even in these difficult days, the successful effort to block the project, “shows there can be unity. Peoples can come together and work together on projects that are needful to the community and the county and the state.”
He added, “What is there is important to the state as well, because it’s part of our Indigenous history.”
Penn agreed. “Obviously, it’s an ancestral holy place for an Indigenous person,” he said. “But because of those thousands of years of prayers building a foundation for a sacred setting, it’s just as much a sacred place for that farmer who says a prayer while he’s out there planting or harvesting. It’s a sacred place to that family who comes together and prays before a meal every time they eat dinner. It’s a sacred place and a significant place to many people.
“While our significance to the mountain and the sacredness of the mountain predates the settlers, I don’t want to discredit that it’s important to many of them as well in present time.”
Of the alliance, Penn said, “We’re a whole lot better when we can put differences aside and find common ground and work together regardless of backgrounds, faiths or political affiliations.
“Chandler Mountain is a unique situation in that we can come together. We have done that, and I’d like to see this initiative grow. I’d like to see Alabama Power realize, ‘Look, we had wrong intentions here. This isn’t where we need to do this. We just need to pull out and let go and give this mountain back to the people who truly care about it. And that is the Indigenous people and that is the local Chandler Mountain Community. That is our mountain and should be our mountain. That’s how I feel about it.”
“Alabama Power does not have any plans for the Chandler Mountain property,” said Alabama Power spokesperson Joey Blackwell in an email response in April.
When Alabama Power announced it had scuttled its proposal, there were celebrations on Chandler Mountain. Hyatt and his family celebrated with dinner at an area Mexican restaurant.
There was joy. “And there were tears,” he said. “More than a few tears.”
Perseverance’s payoff: Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve ready for visitors
Story by Carol Pappas Photos by Mackenzie Free
It was a word repeated early and often in what would become a decade-long journey to Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve – “perseverance.”
But on a clear, Spring-like day in February, close to 400 people witnessed just how perseverance paid off.
It was billed as a ribbon cutting. What it became was testament to what can happen when visionaries don’t give up.
The much anticipated, much heralded Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve officially opened, marking the end of one journey and the beginning of many more. This 422-acre slice of Alabama nature tucked away alongside a pristine creek in Springville blends miles of trails for hiking, biking, horseback riding, birding and just plain enjoying nature.
Plants, flowers, trees of all descriptions dot the landscape. A crystal-clear creek meanders through the heart of it. Below its surface, rare aquatic species have found a home. Towering trees form the ideal canopy for the trails below.
It’s a scene no doubt played and replayed in the vision of people like Doug Morrison, whose passion to preserve, protect and share nature’s gem never ceased. Perseverance.
Posing with new sign, from left, Richie Gudzan, who designed the new logo, Preserve Manager Doug Morrison, Springville Mayor Dave Thomas and Granger Waid of Norris Paving, who played a major role in getting the Preserve open.
It’s a scene where one by one, a burgeoning army joined in the advocacy, embracing the vision. The Friends of Big Canoe Creek, Dean Goforth, St. Clair Economic Development Council, Springville City Council, St. Clair County Commission, Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources, State Lands Division, Freshwater Land Trust, Forever Wild, Nature Conservancy and Big Canoe Creek Preserve Partners became an unstoppable coalition of noteworthy impact on generations to come. Perseverance.
And it’s a scene where a new journey began once those gates opened, drawing multitudes now and in the future to – as Morrison puts it – “explore and discover” the natural treasures found within its borders. Again, perseverance.
The day following the ribbon cutting, the gates opened officially to the public for its very first day, Feb. 3, and 731 streamed in throughout the day. That’s over 1,000 people in just two days, and the enthusiasm and allure have shown no signs of slowing since.
Springville Mayor Dave Thomas said he had not visited for about two weeks after the opening and decided to check in one morning. The upper parking lot was full, and the traffic kept coming. “It was 10 o’clock in the morning on a Thursday,” he said, the note of surprise evident in his voice.
At the opening, Morrison talked of the Alabama Forever Wild program and the wonder of its impact on the future. “They are taking this property and buying it to set aside for people forever. It will be for this community from now on.”
The abundance of biodiversity is now protected. “We really are blessed here,” Morrison said.
A main focus of the preserve, in addition to its recreational value, will be its education component. No sooner had the ribbon been cut than the first education outreach program was announced – a turkey call expo.
Youths from all over were invited for a day of learning all about turkey calls, making them and enjoying the outdoors. Outdoor classrooms will be a hallmark of the preserve.
Thomas called the preserve “a fantastic opportunity to protect the ecosystem and promote conservation education among students and parents. This will be generational. It will outlive us all.”
Surveying the map of the 422 acres that make up the preserve
Commission Chairman Stan Batemon, who was a game warden in his professional career, knows firsthand from both roles the benefits and potential of the preserve. “This is the ground level of economic development,” he told the crowd. He talked of young people and an emphasis on work ethic through groups like the Cattlemen’s Association and 4-H, which can use the preserve as a resource for “building up and creating a workforce.”
And Morrison centered on a community of people who came together around a common good. When skills and expertise were needed in each area along the journey’s way, he recounted, community stepped up to make it happen. Whether it was securing the land, building a website, painting, paving, addressing environmental needs, carpentry, trail design, providing funding or dozens of other issues, someone always came forward.
“People in this community care,” Morrison said as he reflected on years ago when he and wife, Joannie, moved to Springville, his home on the banks of Big Canoe Creek. “Destiny brought us here, honey,” he told her.
And perseverance brought the preserve to this moment.
Making it official with the cutting of the ribbon
Key Players
A project of this magnitude had to have a team. When their number was called over the past decade en route to opening day, these agencies all played a role in acquiring and transforming the Preserve into a winner:
City of Springville
St. Clair County Commission
St. Clair Economic Development Council
Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources, State Lands Division
Curiosity got the best of Granger Waid, and Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve is lucky it did. Same holds true for Joey Breighner. And again, the preserve was on the receiving end of this lucky charm.
Their names often pop up when Preserve Manager Doug Morrison recounts the contributions the pair made to transform the preserve into nature’s gift to all who visit.
“Early on, the preserve seemed to be some type of clandestine operation hidden behind poorly secured cattle gates,” Waid said, recalling his morning commute past the 422-acre site. “It always begged the question, ‘What is going on with this place?’
“One day my curiosity overtook me. I parked at the gate and started walking. Following the little iron ore-stained trickle upstream, I came across an old spring house with remnants of the old home place on the hill above. I thought to myself, “What is going on with this place?”
That was four years ago. Fast forward three years, and Waid was at a pre-bid conference for his company, Norris Paving. The conference was for a new parking lot being installed at Turkey Creek Nature Preserve. He finally asked his “nagging question” about Big Canoe Creek of Charles Yeager, Turkey Creek’s manager, and his response was, “You need to meet my buddy, Doug.”
Morrison and Waid met, he toured the property and saw the potential. “Doug shared his vision for the preserve, and I saw that it could be something truly special. I knew right then I wanted to be a part of it.”
It is much the same story for Breighner. He came. He saw. He got involved.
“I was familiar with the preserve, but when Doug invited me to the preserve and seeing his passion for the project, I immediately became interested and seeing where I may be able to contribute,” said Breighner, an engineer by trade. “After a tour of the preserve, I saw quickly where there were land surveying and engineering needs where we could jump in and help.”
Joey Breighner of Schoel Engineering joins Doug Morrison at the new sign. Breighner is credited as a major force in the project.
Lucky for the preserve, both men’s expertise matched their enthusiasm, and they went to work. “I had no idea that it would turn into a full-blown passion project,” said Waid, who also holds degrees in landscape and horticulture. “My wife would call it an obsession, but she gets me, and is one of the few who sees that it’s more to me than building a parking lot and putting plants in the ground,” he said.
“Nature is a necessity for me,” he continued. “There is a healing power in the sound of running water, and sometimes a sturdy oak’s trunk is the best shoulder to cry on. So, I’m all for the preservation of wild lands, because a quiet walk in the woods may be the only under-prescribed medication in America.”
Breighner, too, talks of the healing effect of this particular project. “It’s always gratifying to look back – and forward in this case – on a project where you may have had an impact or feel you have made some contribution.
“The vision had already been cast; we came in and helped where we could, working directly with Doug, the City of Springville, and the site contractor,” Breighner recalled. “As professionals, we are often cautious about projects we support and involve ourselves with. However, after an in-depth introduction to the preserve and an understanding of the short-and long-term vision, it became quickly obvious that this was a project that I wanted to be part of and contribute to.”
The skills Schoel possesses as a company in the field of engineering and land surveying was “a great fit,” Breighner said. “There will be a life-long connection to both the preserve and the people we have been able to work with.”
Waid’s personal philosophy melded with his professional ability, he said, sharing a story of his own. “At our wedding, we gave away tiny ‘Snowflake’ Hydrangeas and said, ‘Let love Grow.’ You can’t take a building seed and plant it to share,” he said.
“Buildings don’t grow with age, they don’t change colors in the fall, or bloom in the spring. You can’t eat them – well, maybe gingerbread houses – and they certainly don’t get to be 100 feet tall all by themselves. Landscapes evolve. They are four dimensional. Having the ability to see a space that doesn’t exist, from every angle, at all times of the year, imagining its future, and combining it with paving, concrete, stone, and steel is a unique skill set that I guess I have.”
He had to have a little help, of course. He likens it to a recipe, adding “a fleet of GPS machine-controlled heavy equipment, a little AutoCAD, sprinkle on some engineering, and for something a lot bigger than shovel and wheelbarrow can produce. Just add diesel fuel and long hours.”
Waid noted that some of the earthwork had been done by the county, but it was clear there was not nearly enough parking. “We donated the men and equipment for a couple weeks and built the lower parking lot and expanded the upper parking lot.”
With Breighner’s help in engineering, “that led to the design and installation of the upper parking, roads and bioswale.”
What will be the preserve’s greatest impact going forward? “Some will say the economic impact in the community, an amenity for the city, others, the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors, hiking, biking, horseback riding, etc.,” Breighner said.
“I see the primary impact as having a nature preserve in St. Clair County, that will be held undeveloped, in perpetuity, with unimaginable diversity available for public enjoyment. The Big Canoe Creek in itself, stands alone in the country with its biodiversity.”
He wants others to have an opportunity to share his appreciation of what can be discovered and enjoyed there. “I have met some incredible folks and made some lifelong friends,” Waid said. “I’ve learned to appreciate the little critters that often get overlooked because they’re not on your hunting and fishing license. Like mussels and darters or sculpins, and salamanders.”
And there’s more, he said. “Surrounding wooded areas filled with flora and fauna unique only to our region will be available to families and children forever. The diversity of the preserve will provide education opportunities for our children, research opportunities for academia that are available only in this region.”
Breighner talked of the trails with varied elevations providing different challenges for hikers, bikers and horseback riders.
“With the preserve in its infancy, and much work left to be done, I don’t know if I can fully imagine the current and future impact the Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve will have on this community and the surrounding areas.” He looks forward to the future as it continues to grow, add amenities for visitors and, lucky for the preserve itself, “where I can work with the Nature preserve team.”
Waid captures his glimpse of the future like this: “My hope is to keep people curious. Wandering and wondering is important. Maybe they’ll take a moment to stop, lean against a tree and just soak it all in.
“I also hope that the Preserve will impact some kids and will recruit some apostles to go and spread the clean water gospel. We could use some more Loraxes in the future. The world has enough Oncelers,” he said, referring to Dr. Suess’ fictional characters in chronicling the plight of the environment.
“More than anything else, I hope people take a memory with them,” Waid said. “I grew up playing and fishing in Big Canoe Creek. I’m grateful for my dad, grandad, and uncle taking me to ‘the creek.’ I’ve watched my girls play in the creek. Hopefully I’m fortunate enough to take my future grandchildren to dip their feet in Big Canoe Creek, just like mine took me.”
When you pass through the gates at Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve, know that many hands built it – maybe not physically, but nevertheless formed the foundation of it all.
Manager Doug Morrison is quick to tip his hat to a long list of people and organizations, who along the way, had a hand in making the preserve a reality.
Springville Mayor Dave Thomas, who encouraged the nonprofit formation, advocates for support of the preserve and the education component.
Commission Chairman Stan Batemon, consistent advocate during Forever Wild nomination process and through present day.
The Friends of Big Canoe Creek, the supporting organization at the beginning to preserve the land and nominated the acreage to Forever Wild.
Wendy Jackson, former executive director Freshwater Land Trust, pitched the idea of greenspace economic value to former Springville Mayor Butch Isley, Batemon and St. Clair Commission, who supported the effort that laid the groundwork.
Isley and Recreation Director Ashley Hay, secured grant from Community Foundation of Greater Birmingham, which enabled original master plan.
Dean Goforth, businessman and owner of Homestead Hollow, facilitated navigation of governmental agencies to get the project moving through the process.
Richie Gudzan, a board member with Coosa Riverkeeper, who designed the new logo at no charge.
G.T. Laborde, a major contributor whose donations funded the website and other projects during construction.
Big Canoe Creek Preserve Partners, the preserve’s board that has guided the process through to success.
Granger Waid/Norris Paving, prepared road for tar and gravel and raised the idea of reshaping the original plan and incorporating the bioswale in the upper parking area.
Joey Breighner/Schoel Engineering, created new master plan and map for free. Also worked closely with Granger Waid during reshaping of original plan.
Beau Jordan, painted the gate and information board for free.
Jaresiah Banks, major volunteer.
Lee Jeffrey, major volunteer.
Jill Chambers, major volunteer.
Bill Fuqua, who lives close to the Preserve, built and donated 25 bluebird houses.
Drexel Rafford, major volunteer who has helped on many projects and is the Park & Rec liaison for the Preserve worked closely with Jake Tucker, maintenance tech to build the information board at the gate.
Parks and Rec staff – Rick Hopkins, Austin Brower, Justin Parkman and Josh Miller – helped on many occasions.
Discover St. Clair Magazine, St. Clair Times and Trussville Tribune, consistent supporters that covered the journey since its first steps to raise awareness.
Organizations which contributed either through grants or donations:
EBSCO
BCBS of Alabama
Coosa Riverkeeper
KEBCO
United Way of Central Alabama
Amerex
Walmart
Lovejoy Realty
All American Ford
Sherwin Williams, which donated paint for the gate and info board at the entrance
