Floyd Waites

Story by Joe Whitten
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr. and Submitted Photos

In the words of American Bandstand’s Dick Clark, “Music is the soundtrack of your life,” and that fits Pell City musician Floyd Waites like a well-tailored 5th Avenue tuxedo.

Born to Edmond and Beatrice Waites in the Glenn City area of Pell City, Floyd was the youngest of their five children – three boys and two girls. This was a loving family overseen by Mrs. Waites after Mr. Waites became an invalid from a stroke.

By his teenage years, Floyd’s siblings had left home, so his mother depended upon him with chores and cleaning. “I was always singing when I was helping around the house,” he recalled. He heard the music coming from the radio, and he knew in his heart that if he had a piano, he could play those songs.

“I went to my mother and said, ‘I want to get a piano.’” He smiled as he told her reply. “She said, ‘Floyd, I can’t get no piano!’ She wasn’t able to buy a piano. But a few months after that, I began to get a small check from Avondale Mills because my daddy had worked there before his stroke.”

Floyd and Marie Knight take a bow at a concert in Paris

With that income, another plan took shape. “I told my mom that I was gonna try to get a piano (with that money),” he reminisced. “There was a piano company in Anniston, Alabama, called Forbes Piano Company. So, someone carried me there, and I looked around and spoke to the man in charge, and he said, ‘I can let you have it for so much,’ – whatever it was priced at that time. And I said, ‘Well, how much will that be a month?’ He told me what it would be and said, ‘Could you pay ten dollars a month?’ And I said, ‘Oh, I can pay ten dollars a month!’ And, so, they brought the piano out to our house.”

Oh, happy day! Now, with the radio on, Floyd could sit at the treasured piano, with his fingertips eagerly searching out the notes and chords and runs of what he heard. He was a natural – born for the piano and music.

He must have played too much Fats Domino or Chubby Checker, because one day his mother said, “Floyd, I don’t want you playing just anything and everything. You’ve got to play for the Lord.” He chuckled at the memory. “I said, ‘Oh, yes, Mama, that’s what I plan to do.”

And he did just that, beginning at Rocky Zion Missionary Baptist Church under the guidance of Rev. Silas Woods, who encouraged him in his playing for the Lord.

Floyd enjoys recalling those early years with Rev. Woods. “We had a Sunday for the young group to sing, and I began playing for them – songs that I knew and could catch onto. Rev. Woods liked for the Junior Choir to go with him when he preached at other churches. And I would go with them and play piano. I was encouraged a lot by Rev. Woods.”

In the spring of 1965, Floyd graduated from St. Clair County Training School, began looking for work and found scant possibilities locally. The Waites’ across-the-road neighbors had moved to New York City, and they encouraged him to come live with them. “You could get a job up here in New York,” they told him. “We could take you to the state unemployment agency, and they will find you a job.” Therefore, with hope in his heart, Floyd boarded a Greyhound bus and headed to the Big Apple – without a clue as to the places God and his piano would take him in the years ahead.

His friends met him at the bus station, took him to their home, and gave him a room until he could find work and rent an apartment of his own.

At the New York Unemployment Office, the interviewer asked him what kind of work he was interested in. and he told them he was a church musician. “They went into the back,” Floyd laughed, “and came back with a uniform, a khaki uniform, and they said, ‘This will fit you very good.’ And I said, ‘What’s that for?’ And they said, ‘This is for you to become a New York City police officer.’ And I said, ‘Oh, no! My Lord, no! That won’t work! I don’t think I could handle anything like that! Don’t you think you could find me something else?’”

So, they sent him to another section where he had a more favorable offer. The lady interviewing him said, “Mr. Waites, we have an opening for a job in the Bronx at a school, and it’s dealing with food service.” This interested him, and the lady’s next question raised his spirits higher, “Can you cook?” Floyd, feeling almost back home in Pell City, replied, “Honey, that’s right down my alley!”

Then she told of a position at the Walton High School, and Floyd said, “I would love to do that because that’s what I studied in school.” He was referring to the St. Clair County Training School where he was more interested in cooking than in farming and had taken Home Economics rather than Vocational Agriculture.

Following the lady’s instructions, he went to Walton High School Monday morning, and after being interviewed there, he was hired. The school system sent him to various training sessions that prepared him for a career in New York City school food services – the job he worked until he retired.

Music opportunities in New York City’s Harlem seemed to find Floyd without his looking for them. The leader of the Jimmy Smith Singers came up to him and asked him if he could sing.

“Oh, yeah, I sing,” Floyd replied, adding, “I’ve got a friend who sings, too.”

“Bring him along,” the leader told him. The friend was one he grew up with in Pell City, and he and Floyd had connected again in New York. The two young men rehearsed and sang with the Jimmy Smith Singers for a while.

“But it was still like something was missing,” he said. His mama’s words, “You’re not gonna play just anything and everything” no doubt hummed in his mind along with sacred memories of Rocky Zion and Rev. Woods.

Floyd and Evelyn Waites

“The pianist for the Jimmy Smith Singers was playing for a church in my Harlem neighborhood, and he said to me, ‘Floyd, why don’t you come to my church? I play up here at The Gates of Prayer Church. There’s a lady that’s pastor of the church, and her name is Prophetess Dolly Lewis.’ I said, ‘I don’t live too far from there. Maybe I’ll come one Sunday.’”

Not too long after that invitation, Floyd attended The Gates of Prayer Church, and there, by God’s providence, he found his spiritual calling.

Living close to the church, he walked to the service, and as he got closer to the sanctuary, the organ’s chords and crescendos urged him onward. He opened the church door and looking up to the pulpit, he saw a woman dressed in gleaming white looking out over the assembling congregation – Prophetess Dolly Lewis.

Floyd remembers the day. “She looked directly at me and says, ‘Come on in. Go over there and sit down at the piano.’ I must have looked funny, because she said, ‘Yeah, you can play, and you can sing.’ Now, nobody in New York had heard me play, and I wondered, ‘How did this lady know this?’ But I never did ask her.”

From that Sunday, Floyd played piano and sang at The Gates of Prayer Church under the guidance of Prophetess Lewis.

When she went to other cities, he traveled with her to play piano at her preaching services. For one who had never flown, an added excitement was flying to and from these destinations. On these trips, she also held private sessions in her hotel room, and people would be lined up to get messages from her. “A word from the Lord” in today’s Pentecostal parlance.

Prophetess Lewis introduced Floyd to two famous gospel singers – Marie Knight and Sister Rosetta Tharpe. He enjoys recalling those singers. “One Sunday, this lady walked into the church, and everybody looked around. Prophetess Lewis looked at the newcomer and said, ‘Come on up, Marie Knight.’ She was a professional singer, and she would travel all around with this other lady, Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Rosetta was an electric guitar player.” He paused, smiling, “Oh, she could lean back on that guitar and play.”

Godmother of Rock ‘N Roll

Rosetta Tharpe was born in Cotton Plant, Arkansas, in 1915 to Katie Bell and Willis Atkins. Katie Bell played the mandolin, sang, and preached as a Pentecostal evangelist, according to the online Encyclopedia Britanica. She began playing guitar at age four and at age six she traveled and sang with her mother.

After moving to Chicago, she developed her own guitar style under the influence of Chicago’s blues and jazz musicians. When she moved to New York City in the 1930s, “…She sang traditional gospel songs with contemporary jazz tempos that she played on her electric guitar. With these performances, she introduced gospel into nightclubs and concert venues. Her work influenced early rock and rollers such as Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard and Elvis Presley.” She came to be called the “Godmother of Rock and Roll” and was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2018.

The ‘Voice’

Marie Knight, born in Florida in 1920 or 1925, depending on the source, grew up in Newark, New Jersey. According to the online African American Registry (AAREG), Marie started touring in 1939. Sometime in the 1940s, she performed at the Golden Gate Auditorium in Harlem along with Mahalia Jackson.

Sister Rosetta Tharpe attended that concert and “…recognized something special in Marie’s contralto voice.” Rosetta invited Marie to tour with her, and they performed as a team for several years. Sister Rosetta and Marie’s 1947 recording of Up above My Head There’s Music in the Air reached number 6 on the Billboard chart in 1948. Marie sang both Gospel and Rock and Roll, but in her later years sang only Gospel.

When Marie Knight moved back to New York City, she began attending Dolly Lewis’ Gates of Prayer Church, where she organized the choir. Floyd was the pianist and his friend from Pell city the organist. “So, we started playing for Marie,” Floyd smiled. “I’ve got albums that I’m playing for Marie.” He lowered his voice to a baritone before saying, “She had a voice!”

When Marie began planning another tour, she came to Floyd and said, “How would you like to travel to Europe with me?” Floyd laughs as he tells it. “I said, ‘Oh, I don’t know about that!’ ‘Well, you’re gonna get paid,’ she told me. So, I said, ‘We’ll have to ask Mama.’ That’s what we called Pastor Dolly Lewis.”

Floyd asked Lewis’ advice, and after consideration, she agreed for him to travel with Marie, and assured him, “I’m gonna make sure she pays you, cause she’s kind of close with money.”

Floyd flew with Marie Knight and her entourage to Paris. Landing at the Charles De Gaulle Airport, they were met with the concert tour officials who took them to their lodgings for the night. From Paris they traveled to a city in southern France, whose name Floyd could not recall. From that city, Marie, accompanied by Floyd at the piano, gave concerts in various locations.

Then, it was on to San Sebastian, Spain, for the concluding few weeks of Marie’s tour. Then back to New York City.

“From that day,” Floyd recalls with pleasure, “Marie was happy to have me with her. But she paid,” he laughed. “Those hundred-dollar bills smelled good! And I kept on playing for her.”

Floyd met his future wife, Evelyn Keith, at Gates of Prayer Church. Evelyn grew up in Childersburg, so they had mutual connections back home. She was a singer, so she and Floyd sang together at whichever church he played for. They had one son, Kenny.

Floyd continued playing piano for Prophetess Dolly Lewis at Gates of Prayer Church until she died. When Lewis died, Marie Knight – now singing only Gospel – became pastor of Gates of Prayer. Floyd played piano at the church until Marie died in 2009 from pneumonia complications.

The Waites were on vacation in Alabama when Marie passed, Floyd relates. “They got in contact with me while my wife and I were down here on vacation, and we rushed back to New York.” When asked if he played piano for her service, Floyd responded, “I didn’t do too much playing, but I did sing some of the songs that she had sung, and I had played for her down through the years.”

Floyd also directed the choir in singing one of Marie’s best known Gospel recordings, Didn’t It Rain.

Dual roles

Most of the years that Floyd played piano at Gates of Prayer, he also played for another nearby church, Greater Hood Memorial AME Zion Church. “I was playing at Hood Memorial all along, because it was on a different time schedule for that church … And it was just around the corner from Gates of Prayer. I played the piano for them for years. And I played organ for them, too, because I had gotten into playing the organ. I played for the choirs – they had a nice senior choir that sang anthems,” Floyd paused, then added, “It was a fairly big church.”

Greater Hood Memorial is historic in Black churches in America. Established in 1824 as Harlem AME Zion, this oldest Black church in Harlem has survived economic downturns (the Great Depression put them in dire financial circumstances), several relocations and a few name changes. But it has survived with Sunday services continuing for 200 years.

Having reached retirement age, Floyd supervised his last school lunch, played his last Sunday service in Harlem, packed his belongings and returned to the place called home, Pell City, Alabama.

 Floyd relates how he and Evelyn came to Pell City every year for the month of August to visit relatives and churches in the area. They always visited Coosa Valley Baptist Church in Vincent where Rev. Willie Joe Posey was pastor.

Floyd in France at the Bosendorfer piano

“He would always tell me, when me and my wife would come down from New York, ‘Floyd, come on up here and sing, you and your wife,’ and we’d go up and sing for him. And he’d say, ‘Y’all see that man there? If he ever decides to come outta New York City, I want him right there,’ and he’d point to the piano.”

Today, Floyd is the full-time pianist at Coosa Valley Baptist where Rev. Posey still pastors. However, he ministers alone, for Evelyn died while they were living in New York. “I’ve been with Rev. Posey ever since I came back home to live,” Floyd muses quietly.

“I don’t charge them at the church, but Rev. Posey told me, ‘Oh no, you have to accept something, because people know how good you play and sing, they gonna take you away from us. The church will have to give you something. We don’t want you to leave us.’ So, I said, ‘Well, just sometime give me a love offering, but I don’t expect to be on salary. I don’t charge anything.’ So, every third Sunday, they give me a love offering, and I accept it.”

Rev. Posey has pastored the church for 48 years, and speaks highly of Floyd. “He has proven himself a believer in God and Christ. He’s a faithful man. He’s true to his word. … When he was in New York, I told him when he moved back here, he had a place (at our church), and he’s been with me.” Rev. Posey also noted the beautiful vocal harmony when Floyd and Evelyn sang together at the church.

In the community, Floyd is frequently asked to play for revivals, funerals and special events. At the 2024 Black History event at the Pell City Museum, he was one of the featured musicians of the day.

Many in the community call him “Uncle Floyd,” as did Amelia Beavers when she was asked for a comment. “There are so many things that I could say about Uncle Floyd, but the best thing is that he loves the Lord, and he loves people. He helps throughout his community any way that he can.

“If a loved one dies, he is willing to come to play and sing for the family. He has been a jewel of a friend coming back home to live. He is a beautiful asset to our community. I pray for him many years of serving the Lord and his community. All you have to do is ask and if he does not have another engagement, he is more than willing to accommodate.”

Floyd and Evelyn’s son, Kenny, lives in Childersburg, so Floyd is active in his life and the lives of his four grandchildren – two girls and two boys.

How would he like to be remembered? “I’d just like to be remembered as using the gifts that the Lord has given to me. If I was called to do something, it wasn’t for reimbursement. I thank God for the gift, and I thank Him that He allowed me to use it … It’s a gift that He has given, and I just want to give back.”

As a child and as an adolescent in Pell City, music captivated Floyd Waites and has held him fast all his years. One of the songs he played for Marie Knight was the traditional song Up Above My Head, and the lyrics are true for Floyd –

Up above my head, there’s music in the air
Up above my head there’s music in the air,
Up above my head there’s music in the air,
And I really do know,
Yes I really do know,
There’s a heaven somewhere.

So, Floyd Waites, keep on playing and singing “for the Lord” and sharing your God-given gifts, for without a doubt, you enrich the music life of Pell City and St. Clair County. l

Springville Community Theater

Story by Paul South
Submitted photos

For 47 years, the story of the Springville Community Theater has been stagecraft by “the seat of the pants,” according to founder June Mack.

Think a line from something like one of the classic Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland movies: “Hey gang, let’s put on a show.”

Everybody contributes. Everybody performs.

SCT is a small volunteer army of amateur actors, singers, dancers, set builders and ticket takers. The company has few rules: Check your ego at the stage door, no divas allowed and get ready to have fun and work hard.

That’s been the story of the theater troupe since Mack started it in 1976 after graduating from Hollins College, and her summer job fell through.

Oklahoma

Archie Jones, a neighbor at a nearby farm, suggested that Mack put on a show in Springville. She spent a month writing a children’s fantasy, filled with song, dance and dialogue.

“I put the word out that I needed help to put this thing on, and about 20 people – lifelong friends of all ages – stepped in to be a part of it. We had a blast,” Mack says.

The next year saw another original production that drew 70 cast and crew, including The Shake, Rattle and Roll Senior Citizens Band from Odenville.

 “I didn›t exactly know what to do with them so I created a scene with a birthday party so the band (about 25 senior citizens) became the entertainment at the party in the play. They were a real hit.”

Since those initial offerings, Mack, with degrees from Florida State and Harvard, has directed the SCT in a mix of original works and Broadway classics, like Oklahoma!, South Pacific, Beauty and the Beast and Peter Pan.

Mack describes the growing troupe with a single word – brave.

“They’re not afraid to take a risk. Especially if it’s funny or unusual – something that would delight a crowd,” Mack says. “When you describe something to them that you’re thinking of them doing, and it could be embarrassing or even dangerous, they get a glint in their eye like ‘bring it on.’” 

Risks, it seems, are part of life on the stage, from New York to community playhouses. But in Springville, the theater has no set script for success.

“No formula, just trying to see if we can do it,” Mack says. “It’s not that we decided we’re going renegade and not have a safety net. We just don’t have a net, or we’d definitely use it. We’ve done things that we knew could turn out catastrophic, but we just had to try — and it always turned out.”

Peter Pan wire work

For example, “we did an outdoor performance of Annie Get Your Gun at Homestead Hollow. One of our leads, Madison Forman, decided at age 80 that he’d like to try acting. He was great. To do this show, we braved mosquitoes, record temperatures and humidity plus horses, lots of kids, gunshots, fireworks and longhorn steers. Plus, we moved the audience from scene to scene instead of changing the scenery, which meant relocating sound, lights and orchestra as we moved to the settings around Homestead Hollow. Just had to try it.”

One of the foundations at Springville Community Theater is that everyone who auditions is cast. Locals from ages 4 to 85 have basked in the applause of joyful audiences. “It’s amazing what people can do when you tell them they can,” Mack says. 

“We’ve had 100 (exactly) people audition for several of our shows, and since we cast every person, that meant a cast of… yep, 100. We’re not trying to grow a theater program. We just want to do fun, creative things in front of our families and friends.

“Recently, we gathered old cast and crew lists to create a spreadsheet of everyone who had worked on our shows, and the number was 970 in 47 years. We were amazed because it’s a small town.”

Mack says that having a community theater isn’t really the important thing – it could be any kind of project that involves a lot of people working together.“The fact that it was theater just means there are a lot of different types of jobs for different kinds of people. So, it’s a very practical device for a community project. And then you present it to the community, and you’ve got participation on every level.” 

The seeds for what would become Springville Community Theater were planted in the 1970s at Springville United Methodist Church, where Mack, her mother and siblings created and performed church programs along with other members of the congregation. “It was the time of the hit musical, Godspell, and youth programs everywhere were experimenting with drama, music and movement. I was fortunate to work with a lot of really talented people, and this was the norm all over Springville — not just at the Methodist Church.  It’s still true today. It’s a very unusual place.” 

What do they think are the secrets behind keeping it going for almost five decades?

In the beginning – for about 10 years – we did a show every year. Now, with the size of our shows, the volunteer staff and crew need a longer break. Spacing the shows is our remedy for burn out. We go off and live our lives, and when we get the itch to do a show, we bring that life energy back to the next play.” 

She explains it like this: “The stage really isn’t our lives — it comes out of our lives. We just pretend it’s about the show (these characters, their stories), but it’s really about community, about our stories as we do this other thing called a show.” 

From the beginning, she adds, it was a teaching group. “We teach anyone to act, build, paint, run a box office, operate lighting and sound equipment, make costumes, find the right props, be a stagehand. Since nobody gets paid, anyone can volunteer to do anything. We’re sort of the “no rules” theater troupe.”

As for its staying power, she notes, “Incredibly talented people just keep showing up for sets, art, props, costumes, sound and lights. We couldn’t afford these people if we were paying them. But they’ll work for free because the creative atmosphere is super, and they are so appreciated – it just feels good to be a part of these shows.

“It’s incredibly hard work, but these people know that hard work and long hours come with quality art, and they pour themselves into it, teaching others along the way. That continuity of expertise sprinkled through all of the committees has been key to our ability to handle the hundreds of people who head our way now for every show.”

Mack points to other keys to their success. “We have no overhead because we don’t own a building or have a payroll, and this makes it possible for us to have a lot of freedom to do shows when we want to and take risks – risks that come with doing really big shows and a lot of crazy stunts.

“We keep ticket prices as low as we can to make the shows accessible to everyone. We just want to break even – we’re not interested in socking away any money. With donations from the City of Springville, St. Clair County and a few special friends, we’re able to mount extravagant shows with very low ticket prices.

They keep the spotlight trained where it should be, she says. “With less focus on money and sustaining a large organization, we’re able to keep our main goal in sight: process is more important than product. The cool part is that, by focusing on the process, the quality of the product is always amazing.

“We focus on the experience of the people who work on the shows. We want everyone to be proud of themselves, and this expands to the pride and love their families and friends feel for them when they see them on the stage. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Mack taught at UAB from 2001 to 2019, where she led the university’s film program. Before that, she taught at Ohio University, The Ringling School of Art and Design and at Florida State.

For the former college faculty member, Springville Community Theater teaches a powerful lesson. “Doing something that’s fun and wanting to give back to friends, family and community really works out in the long run.”

And after 47 years, how does Mack see the future Springville Community Theater? “More of the same, only, it’s never the same.”

One day of love and music

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Mackenzie Free

In August of 1969, there was a music festival of some note, held on a dairy farm a few hours outside of New York City. Attended by over 400,000 people, that music festival, known as Woodstock, was promoted with the slogan, “Three Days of Peace and Music.” The country was in the middle of turbulent times, and organizers thought music could bring some inner peace to festival goers.

Fast-forward 54 years to a farm in the heart of Pell City, Alabama. Hundreds of people have gathered to enjoy a free music festival. The festival is called Lovestock, a nod to the intent of the historic 1969 music mega-festival. As you walk from the parking area toward the stage, you enjoy the serene beauty of this farm, with its expansive views of gently sloping green hills and fields.

As you approach the stage, you hear the master of ceremonies tell the crowd that today there are no races, no black, no white, just love. “Today,” the voice explains, “will be all about the collective experiences of cultural and ethnic backgrounds and their expressions of love in music.” Throughout the day, the shared joy and community among the participants creates a truly palpable sense of love and unity.

Spectators fill the fields in front of the stage

During breaks in the music, squeals of joy can be heard from the children’s inflatables play area. Groups of festival goers wander about to visit the food truck and vendor area as they wait to hear their favorite group sing. Unlike the rainy, muddy conditions that characterized the Woodstock festival site, the weather on this October day is sunny and warm, with a breeze that hints of the changing seasons.

Individuals and bands from five states share the stage at various times throughout this day-long music festival. The 17 acts will later be edited into four shows for Alabama Gospel Roots, a popular television show which airs on Saturday nights at 8 p.m. on Alabama Public TV (APT).

Al Lewis has been playing saxophone for 64 years. He’s playing with two different bands on this day. “I was around at the time of Woodstock,” he says. “Lovestock is different and so much better. No alcohol, no chemicals, just totally Christian love.” He joins the band, Lite Brigade, in the morning set and Healed by the Blood in the closing act of the day.

Rev. Dr. Renita Allen-Dixon is a popular gospel recording artist from Tallahassee, Florida, and has just finished her set on stage. She agrees with Lewis about the festival and its location. “You can feel life and the presence of God here,” she adds. “It’s an opportunity for God to bring serenity and peace and for faith to be renewed.”

The idea for Lovestock began two years ago as the brainchild of four men working on various projects in the entertainment industry in Alabama. George W. Stewart, host of the Alabama Gospel Roots television show pitched to his friend, Charlie Beavers, the idea of putting on an outdoor music festival. Beavers, a Birmingham attorney and frequent guest musician on the gospel show, agreed to help, and the idea took flight. Beavers suggested including Rodney Burrow, a friend he had worked with previously on a charity music event. Michael Sutton, who manages Iron City Collective, a pop-up worship event group which produces worship events at places like Railroad Park in downtown Birmingham, rounded out the group. 

APT had been taping Alabama Gospel Roots at venues all around the state since the COVID pandemic shut down their studio in Montgomery. As they continued to talk about it, the plan began to take shape as a Christian Woodstock equivalent, with back-to-back groups playing throughout the day, but without the negative connotations and volatility that became associated with the iconic ‘60s festival.

Lovestock organizers added to their event promotion the tagline, “What the World Needs Now Is Love,” a reference to a popular 1965 song recorded by Jackie DeShannon. “That’s truly what the world needs now,” said Stewart.  “There’s a lot of hurt in the world today. We’re going to show a pure expression of love for each other and love for God. We hope people leave empowered to share this example of unity with the world.”

Organizers booked Lovestock at Rodney Burrow’s 123-acre farm. Its green, rolling hills and water features project a decidedly golf course feel, with good reason. Burrow purchased the land from the estate of Charles Carter, owner of Carter Golf Company, a world-renowned company that built many famous golf courses, including the Robert Trent Jones courses in Alabama.

“Carter used his company equipment and sculpted it, I’m told, from basically swampland to the tranquil and beautiful hills and lush greenways that it is now,” tells Burrow.

Burrow had been looking for land to buy outside of Birmingham in 2012 when the property became available. He recalls the story of how he knew it was the right land for him. “A friend came out with me to look at the land. He got down on one knee and scooped up some dirt in his hand, let it sift through his fingers and told me that one day I would be able to call this land my own,” says Burrow, choking back tears.

“I came back a few days later and promised God that if he gave me this property, I would give it back to him.” Thirty days later, Burrow closed on the property, which he now calls Willow Tree Ranch.

His journey to fulfill that promise includes offering sections of the property for use for events like Lovestock and for use in his work with area youth and families. “When I bought it, I really didn’t know what that would look like. What began as a youth camp idea has expanded into something far beyond my expectations,” adds Burrow. 

He has plans to develop the land further and build a conference center with lodging, and fishing and recreation areas, along with barns with horses for guests to ride.

Burrow introduces one of his volunteers at the festival. Joseph Carrion smiles as he tells his story of gratitude and the reason he is happy to help. He had been serving two life sentences plus 13 years at Donaldson Correctional Facility as a repeat offender convicted on a charge of drug possession.

After participating in a prison ministry event called Kairos in 2003, he turned his life around. Charlie Beavers was working with that ministry on that April weekend at Donaldson. “I asked him if God could really save me,” said Carrion.

“A year later, I was released on parole. The next year, Charlie and some others went with me to Montgomery to receive a full pardon. Helping with these kinds of events helps me to give back for the gift of love and salvation I didn’t deserve.”

Breaking down barriers and offering life-changing love is what has fueled the efforts of all who worked on this music festival.  “Lovestock crosses all boundaries,” says Stewart. “It’s a collective of cultural and ethnic backgrounds and their expressions of love in music. It’s unfacilitated peace through all walks of life.”

Plans are already underway for Lovestock 2024.

Springville Preservation Society

A labor of love for the past

Story by Paul South
Photos by Richard Rybka

Love comes in many forms.
A dozen roses.
A whispered lullaby
A perfumed letter.
Driving a nail or sweating over a grant application.

But the love the Springville Preservation Society holds for its historic hometown can be seen in preserving the iconic Rock School, restoring the Presbyterian Church, the Springville Museum and historic homes dotting the city’s landscape.

It can even be seen in celebrating the life of Springville natives Hank Patterson and St. Clair County native Pat Buttram, stars of the zany 1960s sitcom, Green Acres.

Patterson and Buttram have passed on, but their lives and the TV show are celebrated in Springville with “Green Acres Day”, featuring a doppelganger of the precocious porker pet Arnold Ziffel, the “son” of Patterson’s character.

The society, about 100 members strong, raises money for its all-volunteer labor through grants and membership fees, ice cream socials and appropriate for this season, a festival of Christmas trees.

For Carol Waid, the reason for the tireless work is simple. She serves on the society board, and her husband Frank, an Air Force veteran, is its chairman.

After his military service ended, the couple came home.

Clay Allison and others take part in the skit

“We were born and raised here,” Carol Waid says. “We love this little town. It’s just a wonderful community.”

The Preservation Society has poured its heart into restoring the Old Rock School. Built in 1902 as a general store, it became a center of learning for generations of Springville children.  The Preservation Society’s efforts to restore the school have earned recognition from the State of Alabama. The building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1983.

The Preservation Society started in 1992. Carol’s father, Marcus Pearson, was among its founders.

The school, the preserved church and other projects are far more than bricks and mortar, sweat and maybe a few tears for members of the organization. They speak volumes about the people who call Springville home, whether those folks are newcomers, or part of a long lineage of local families.

“It’s a real hometown feel,” she says. “Neighbors helping neighbors. You always have a friend.”

While it works to preserve the city’s cherished heritage, the society also strives to help Springville strike a balance between growth and preserving the past.

“That’s one of the appeals of Springville is its history,” she adds. “People love the history of the town, and the old buildings are just full of history. We want to preserve that.”

Frank Waid says that while growth is inevitable, they want residents –  old and new – to celebrate and preserve the past.

“You can’t stop growth,” he says. “But we want people coming into the town to know about the town and its history. That’s why we have things like the home tour. We have tour guides who tell the stories of the old homes.

“As people come into town, we want them to know about the town so that they feel like they’re a part of it, and they’re not just moving in. They feel right at home.”

Not only is the society restoring buildings, but it’s building relationships. Ice Cream Sundays at the Rock School are popular events where friendships form.

Organizers Carol Waid, Brad Waid and Kathy Burttram

It’s easy to think that only older people are in love with the older buildings in town. But when Frank Waid strolls downtown to grab a cup of coffee at Nichols Nook, he sees a different, diverse demographic.

“It’s full of people and it’s full of people of all ages,” Waid says. “There are a lot of young people and families – mothers pushing strollers coming in, and you just feel at home right off the bat.”

And younger people are embracing the Springville Preservation Society’s efforts. In October, local fourth graders from Springville Elementary flocked to the museum – some with their parents in tow – to explore and find joy in small things, like pecking on an antique manual typewriter.

By the way, the school was designated a “School of Excellence” by the state of Alabama in the state’s bicentennial year.

Students from Springville Elementary restored a first-grade classroom at the Rock School, where teacher Nina Crandall taught for generations.

Board member Tami Spires, a counselor at Springville Elementary and a member of the society board, spearheaded the school’s efforts, not only at the Rock School, but in other winning efforts, like the Blue-Ribbon designation.

The society is also converting the manse at the old Presbyterian Church into a city archive, known as the Springville Heritage Center, where genealogy and family histories can be researched. The society also hopes to create a digital oral history archive.

As committed as it is to history, the Springville Preservation Society also makes new memories for this and future generations. Remember Arnold, Jr., the star of Green Acres Day?

“We had a huge crowd, and it was a lot of fun,” Frank Waid says. “People are going to say, ‘I saw Arnold run wild.’”

Fittingly, Spires looked back to the construction of the Rock School when early 20th century residents hauled wagonloads of rock to the top of the city’s highest point to build a beacon of learning for future generations. Their ethic survives in Springville to this day.

“They spent a lot of their own money so that the town could have something that they were proud of,” Spires says. “We need to keep that to teach people that this is the way we do things. Friends help friends.

“That’s what a community does,” she adds. “We come together for a common good and do what needs to be done for one another.”

But at the end of the day, the Preservation Society’s driving force hasn’t changed from that of their forbearers, who mined rocks to build a school for future generations. Spires put it simply:

“We just love Springville.”

Editor’s Note: Individual memberships for the Springville Preservation Society are $10 and $15 for families. Contributions can be sent to P.O. Box 92, Springville, AL 35146. The society meets on the fourth Thursday of each month at 6:30 p.m. on the second floor of the Masonic Lodge on Main Street. For more information, write info@springvillepreservation.org.

Stars fell on Pell City

Kurt Russell latest actor to film in St. Clair

By Scottie Vickery
Submitted photos

For most folks in Pell City, 2023 will be remembered as the year Hollywood came to town.

Stars fell on Alabama – or at least converged upon the state – for several weeks last summer during filming of The Rivals of Amziah King, a crime thriller written and directed by Andrew Patterson and produced by Black Bear Pictures. By the time filming wrapped, St. Clair County residents were among the many in the state who’d had the chance to rub elbows with the rich and famous.

Oscar winner Matthew McConaughey, who stars in the movie, and fellow A-lister Kurt Russell, who has a supporting role, both shot scenes in the area. “It was an experience I wouldn’t have gotten to have anywhere else,” said Lena Parris, of Ragland, who was among the many who waited for hours to catch a glimpse of McConaughey. “I’m not planning on going to California anytime soon, so I figure this was the closest I was going to get to seeing a celebrity.”

Kurt Russell with the Town and Country Texaco crew

If recent years are any indication, Alabamians will likely have more opportunities for star-gazing and all things show biz, according to Brian Jones, media and location coordinator for the Alabama Film Office.  It provides economic incentives to attract film and television projects, and Sweet Home Alabama is serving as a backdrop for a growing number of movies, he said. Each movie filmed in the state often leads to more.

“A lot of times, after doing one movie here, producers and production teams come back and do another one,” Jones said, adding that one reason is the welcome they receive. In larger cities, where filming is a much more frequent occurrence, people get tired of closed streets and other hassles.

“It’s generally the direct opposite in Alabama,” he said. “People are excited, and they’re turning out to see what’s happening. They’re taking photos and having fun. It’s a much more welcoming kind of feeling.” 

That’s exactly what happened when McConaughey came to town to film scenes at Pell City Steakhouse and a farm in Cropwell. A crowd of fans endured rain and the summer heat in hopes of meeting the Oscar winner, who starred in blockbusters such as Dallas Buyer’s Club, The Lincoln Lawyer and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

There already had been plenty of Matthew sightings in the state since filming locations included Birmingham, Bessemer, Jasper, Calera and Columbiana. That didn’t take away from the thrill, though, when the cast and crew made their way to St. Clair County.

McConaughey didn’t sign autographs at the Pell City Steakhouse, but the crowd was eventually rewarded with some great photo ops. The star, a graduate of the University of Texas and a huge Longhorns fan, also flashed a big smile and the “Hook ‘em Horns” sign to those gathered.

Behind the scenes

A few weeks after Matthew Mania started to subside, those Crazy for Kurt got their chance to swoon. Russell’s career started in 1963 when the 12-year-old landed a lead role in a Western television series, The Travels of Jaimie McPheeters. Since then, he’s starred in many films, including Escape from L.A.,

Big Trouble in Little China, and Backdraft.  He also played Santa in the Netflix productions Christmas Chronicles and Christmas Chronicles: Part Two, and his real-life longtime partner Goldie Hawn portrayed Mrs. Claus.

Ashley Morton, manager of Town &Country Texaco in Cropwell, has long been a fan of Russell’s so she couldn’t have been more thrilled when she learned he would be filming some scenes for the movie at the convenience store in July. He also shot scenes at a home in the Forrest Hills neighborhood. 

Morton said a location scout came by one day when she was away from the store, and one of the cashiers called her to say they wanted to film there. “I didn’t believe her,” Morton said with a laugh. “I accused her of messing with me and hung up on her.”

The interest was real, though, and after the scout returned to take some measurements and photos, they eventually signed a contract. Filming was scheduled for late at night, “so we didn’t have to close the store down,” she said. “We were happy about that. The only thing we had to cancel was a Thursday night fishing tournament.” Town and Country is a popular launch site on Logan Martin Lake.

They ended up cancelling it twice after the original filming date was postponed a week. “We had to cancel again, and we couldn’t tell them why,” Morton said. “That kind of had the fishermen’s feathers a bit in a ruffle.”

It was all worth it, though, when filming began. Morton wasn’t sure at first which actor would be in the scenes, but she delighted to find out it was Russell. “I was more excited about him than Matthew McConaughey,” she said.

“He was all business when they were filming, very professional,” she said. “You could tell he’d been doing it a long time and took it very seriously. In between shooting, he was very nice and normal. He said he had enjoyed his time in Alabama.”

The actors and crew didn’t arrive until about 11:30 p.m. and filming wrapped up about 2:30 a.m., said Morton, who enjoyed watching the whole process. “It’s impressive to me how fast everything goes,” she said. “Everyone shows up, and in 30 to 40 minutes, they’re ready to film.”

The number of takes required for scenes was surprising, as well. “The mics pick up so much background noise,” Morton said. “If a car road by on (U.S. Highway) 231, they would have to re-film it.”

In addition to the photos she took, Morton almost ended up with a souvenir from the evening. “They had this old truck pull up to the gas pumps for a scene,” she said. “At the end of the night, everybody leaves, and this truck’s still sitting there. The windows were down, and the keys were in it. I knew there was no way it was supposed to be sitting there like that.”

After she made a quick call to the location scout, some of the crew returned to pick up the truck. “One of them said they would have been missing it on the next day’s shoot,” Morton recalled.

Although she truly enjoyed the experience, Morton said it seemed odd that a movie set in Oklahoma would be filmed in Alabama. That’s part of the magic of Hollywood, Jones said.

Made in Alabama

Film crews can make almost any setting look like another. “Birmingham is a pretty big city, but it’s no Chicago,” Jones said, adding that movies set in the Windy City can still be filmed in the Magic City. “All they’re looking for is an urban setting. They’re just catching the actors on the street with big buildings all around. They’re not going to pan up and show that some of the buildings are only 10 or 12 stories.”

Kurt Russell filming near the pumps at Town and Country

Jones said much of the Jesus Revolution movie, which starred Kelsey Grammar and is set in Southern California, was filmed in Fairhope and Mobile last year. “They filmed three weeks in Alabama and three days in California just to get some of the iconic shots you have to have,” he said.

“We’re blessed, fortunately in Alabama, because we’re a very geographically diverse state,” Jones added. In addition to urban areas like Birmingham, Mobile and Huntsville, there are plenty of rural areas and beautiful countryside.

“In North Alabama, you start getting into the mountains and that kind of look,” he said. “Heading back down toward Mobile, it can look like Savannah, it can look like New Orleans, it can look like the Florida Everglades. We can find a location that matches pretty much any setting unless it’s the North Pole, Antarctica, or the desert. We can’t do that.”

The Rivals of Amziah King, which doesn’t have a release date yet, joins a long list of movies made in Alabama.  The first movie filmed in the state, according to the Alabama Film Index maintained by the Alabama Film Office, was the 1949 war film Twelve O’Clock High, with scenes shot at Fort Rucker.

The Phenix City Story was filmed in 1955, followed by four movies in the 1960s. The number of movies filmed in Alabama grew steadily the next few decades, and more than 130 movies or television shows have been totally or partially filmed in the state since 2000.

The lineup includes blockbusters like Norma Rae, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Big Fish, Selma, Woodlawn and 42. In addition, many St. Clair County residents remember when The Ark, a restaurant in Riverside, was transformed into the White Cow Diner for The Devil All the Time, a 2020 Neflix film.

Big movies often feature big stars, and Alabama has welcomed its share of famous actors and actresses. Bruce Willis was in at least three movies filmed in Alabama (Wrong Place, Wire Room and Assassin). Nicholas Cage, Sally Field, Beau Bridges, Robert DeNiro, Chadwick Boseman and Harrison Ford are also on the list.

The Rivals of Amziah King, in fact, wasn’t the first movie McConaughey filmed in Alabama. He shot part of 2006’s Failure to Launch in the state, including rock-climbing scenes at Cherokee Rock Village in Leesburg.

Show me the money

Having movies made in Alabama is good for the state as well as filmmakers, Jones said. The Alabama Film Office is a division of the Alabama Department of Commerce, and its mission is boosting the state’s economy and creating jobs for Alabamians by attracting film and television productions to the state.

A movie production “pumps a lot of money into the local economy,” Jones said. “The crews stay several weeks, they’re renting equipment and vans and trucks, and they’re eating in restaurants.” In addition, Alabamians are often hired as part of the cast or crew.

Producers benefit because filming in Alabama can be easier, faster and less expensive than filming in other places, Jones said. Movies that cost more than $500,000 to produce and are approved by the Alabama Film Office can earn 25 percent of the production costs back in tax incentives, he said. The percentage jumps to 35 percent when Alabamians are part of the cast or crew.

In addition, the process of getting permits and cooperation from city officials is generally shorter in Alabama, compared to big cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco or New York. That can mean significant savings in an industry where time is money.

“Every day they’re filming is money, money, money,” Jones said. “If you can cut down on the hassles and the delays of getting permits or the delays from waiting on the police to put up barricades, you can cut down on costs.”

That’s not the only way producers can save money. “The cost of filming, like everything else, is lower in Alabama than California,” Jones said. “The cost of gas and meals and everything else is lower. When you’re in Alabama, you’re spending less on all of these other things. Instead of going over budget, they can come in on budget or even under budget.”

That’s why Jones is optimistic that the Alabama Film Index list will continue to grow. “In addition to regular movies, you’ve got all these streaming services doing their own original content,” he said. “We’ve been fortunate to have some really good projects and some cool movies filmed here.”

The Rivals of Amziah King isn’t even the most recent one. Filming for The Life of Chuck, a movie based on a novel by Steven King, recently took place in Fairhope, Mobile and Bay Minette. Chances are, more will follow.

“They all make a difference moving forward,” Jones said. “Even if it’s a year, two years or three years later, someone will say, ‘Remember that Matthew McConaughey movie? That was filmed there.’”

Bonsai Master

Pell City man creates living art

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Mackenzie Free

Blame it on Valentine’s Day. That’s when Boomer Meason received a gift from his wife, Melody, that would end up changing his life. The gift was a “bonsai growing kit,” which, he admits was a challenge for a man with the “brownest thumb ever.”

Thinking it would be fun, but not expecting them to survive, he dutifully planted the seeds. A couple of weeks later, after returning from a trip out of town to their home in Pell City, the couple was surprised to see the seeds thriving in their growing pots.

“At that point, I had no idea what to do with them,” Boomer confesses. “So, I got on YouTube and figured it out. I watched tons of videos and learned a lot. I learned that it’s not just what you can create, but that what you can do is limitless.”

Bonsai is not a type of tree, but rather, the cultivation of a plant and its aesthetics to fall within a specific set of conditions. Bonsai is considered both a horticultural practice and an art form. The goal is for the grower to cultivate a plant or a tree to be a healthy version of itself, but small enough to be grown in a shallow dish. In fact, the word, bonsai, literally means “tree in a dish.”

Melody wins award for her serissa bonsai

There is so much more than that, however, to understand bonsai. It involves learning as much as you can about each of the species that you are working with. It involves clipping, wiring, and weighing down the branches that need manipulation.

A bonsai artist must first see a vision for the plant. Then he sets about figuring out how to make the plant fulfill that vision.

Most of all, bonsai requires patience. Each of the phases of growing and training the plant requires grooming, then waiting for the plant to recover, waiting for changes to take effect, rewiring, pruning again, then waiting for the right season to make the next change.

A centuries-old art form made popular in Japan, bonsai evolved from the ancient Chinese art of “penjing,” which includes landscapes or scenes in a pot. The Japanese art put more emphasis on the tree itself.

Traditionally, bonsai are trees or bushes that are pruned to create a smaller version over several years. The mission of the bonsai artist is to create a tree that looks like a tiny version of a mature tree, but without obvious evidence of human intervention in the process.

A typical tree in nature can live to be hundreds, sometimes thousands of years old. In contrast, a well-cared for bonsai can live indefinitely due to the constant care and promotion of new growth given by the artist.

Boomer received those first seeds in 2020, shortly before the pandemic changed so much in the world. “I always ask people if they have a COVID hobby,” he laughs. “My wife’s is kayaking. Mine is bonsai. We couldn’t do a lot of the things we normally did, but we spent a lot of time working on these. I spent the whole first year trying to not kill the trees.”

He took to the hobby like a duck to water. His “brown thumb” now a thing of the past, he has close to 300 plants in various “pre-bonsai” stages. It has taken more than three years to accumulate that many plants to work with to create bonsai. He has more than two dozen that are in shape to be considered officially show-ready bonsai.

Pencil drawing by Boomer’s grandmother, artist Evelyn Whatley, included with the display at the bonsai show

Although both his mother, Leah Whatley Meason, and his grandmother, Evelyn Whatley, were artists, he has never had an outlet to develop his artistic talents. He admits that his career in manufacturing does not always engage his artistic side.  It does, however, make it possible for him to fuel his passion financially.

Buying that many plants at nurseries to work with can be costly, but Boomer gets about 20% of his plants from the wild, a practice known as “yamadori.”

Typically done in the spring, just before the plant’s growing season, a bonsai artist digs up plants from the wild, along with dirt from around the plant, brings it home and nurtures it to help it recover from the shock of transplanting. When the plant is ready, the pruning and training begins.

Another technique involves creating new plants from established ones from cuttings and air layering. A propagation technique similar to grafting, air layering is the practice of cutting a branch and wrapping the “wound” with special moss to encourage the growth of a new plant.

“You do everything in bonsai according to what the species needs and what the tree is telling you to do,” says Boomer. “Bonsai people probably know more about roots than most botanists do. The texture and nutritional details of the root systems are so important. When you do serious work on a tree, and you reduce the root system, you must reduce the canopy to make sure it can still survive.”

The deeper Boomer dug into his new hobby, the more information he craved. He began messaging questions to some of the YouTube video creators. He read all he could find on the subject.

World-renowned bonsai master Peter Chan’s book Bonsai Beginner’s Bible became his go-to guide. He spent countless hours watching channels like Chan’s Herons Bonsai. “His videos are geared toward people who want to get into it, but not spend a lot of money,” Boomer explains. “The way he works on his trees really helps you. And he speaks to you in a way that’s easy to understand.” Another bonsai expert, Ben Kirkland of Appalachian Bonsai, strongly suggested that Boomer get in contact with his local bonsai society.

At first, Boomer wasn’t ready to share his artistic efforts with anyone else. After picking his way along the path for three years with only the internet as his teacher, he finally reached out to the Alabama Bonsai Society (ABS).

The group meets for monthly workshops and to encourage each other and share the progress of the plants they’re working with. They also hold an annual show at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens. Boomer can’t say enough about how the group has helped him. “I’ve never worked with a more positive group of people,” he adds. “Their support and advice were so helpful in building my confidence.”

Through the Alabama Bonsai Society, Boomer met John Walker, who curates the Meyers Bonsai Terrace at Aldridge Gardens in Hoover and is one of the best trained bonsai artists in the state. Boomer buys some of his plants through Walker’s company, Walking Tree Bonsai, which sells mature bonsai and plants ready to transform into bonsai. He also admits to “hanging out at Hazelwood’s” (nursery) at least twice a month scouting for plants to transform.

Sometimes treasures can literally be found in your back yard, like the Chinese privet Boomer dug up from his yard in 2021. The plant was still healthy, but not thriving, so he put it in a container and began working with it. Over two years later, he entered it in the ABS annual bonsai show and won his intermediate level in the broadleaf evergreen category.

“I have a lot of American Elm trees, wisteria, flowering plants, red maples and azaleas that have come out of my yard and from my mom’s yard.” says Boomer. He says the easiest to work with is the Chinese privet but added that he’s had the most fun with ficus trees because one of his mentors, Nigel Saunders, works with them and has given him a lot of inspiration.

A bonsai can be created using almost any plant with woody stems. Generally, one can expect to spend a minimum of two years pruning and cultivating a tree to get it small enough to thrive in a shallow dish (a requirement of bonsai).

ABS’s bonsai show director Anika Paperd explains. “Some species like a trident maple that grows quickly, you could do it in as little as two years. You’re going to begin refining it to develop the branches and shape. We use wiring and pruning techniques to cause the branches to split to make them spread and form a canopy on the tree.”

One of the most fascinating aspects of bonsai art is that it is never finished. That’s because the tree continues to grow and react to its environment. The artist must continue to maintain it and adapt it as conditions change. “It’s much like being a sculptor where your sculpture is breathing and continues to grow,” Paperd emphasizes. “It’s a constant progression.”

From start to that continued progression, a bonsai is all about the vision in the mind of the artist. It is nature inspired and human coerced. “Every time you work on it, you’ll either find a new inspiration or another aspect of it that changes it. Or you just keep working on the original plan you had envisioned,” says Boomer.

“You are trying to create the aesthetic of a really old tree in something you can pick up and carry around,” Boomer concludes, holding up a tiny juniper bonsai that is springing from a crater in a softball-sized rock. “My wife found this rock while kayaking. We both thought it would make a great container for a bonsai. So, I planted a Chinese juniper in the hole, and it’s pretty cool.”

Melody has now joined her husband in his hobby. She has developed her skills to the point that she, too, brought home an award at the spring bonsai show for her serissa plant, a deciduous evergreen.

Boomer’s quite a few years shy of retirement, but he says bonsai will be important in his future plans. He looks forward to the additional hours to devote to his art. As to whether he will ever be able to see a profit from his work, Boomer admits that he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to part with his creations. “There’s a little bit of me in each of them.”

And those Valentine’s Day seeds? One of the black spruce seeds lives today as a beautiful bonsai on Boomer’s back deck. Not bad for a guy with a brown thumb.

Editor’s note: Next year will be Alabama Bonsai Society’s 50th Anniversary. Their mission is to bring awareness to the community and to share the art form of bonsai. For more information about bonsai and the Alabama Bonsai Society, check out alabamabonsai.org.