Category: The Arts

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 20^th 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.

Features

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.’”

Features

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 50^th 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.

Features

For the love of music

Childhood fascination turns into lifetime skill for concertina maker

Story and photos by Elaine Hobson Miller

Bob Tedrow has been fascinated with concertinas since he was a child. He first saw them in cartoons, watching Geppetto the toymaker play one in “Pinocchio,” and Bashful in “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” He sat up and took notice when Bob Hope played one while singing to Jane Russell in the movie “Paleface,” although he admits he may have been more attracted to Jane than the instrument.

“I had an absurd interest in the instrument as a child, but I didn’t complete my first concertina until the late 80s,” says Tedrow, a newcomer to the town of Ashville. “It was rather more of a concertina-shaped object, actually. It was quite a few years until I began to get the hang of building nice instruments.”

Tedrow repaired this concertina for a man in Japan, who found him on the internet

A concertina is a free-reed instrument that consists of expanding and contracting bellows with buttons usually on both ends. Free-reed, says the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, is “a reed in a musical instrument … that vibrates in an air opening just large enough to allow the reed to move freely.”

The body is built from seasoned hardwoods, and the bellows are made of vegetable-tanned goat leather and neutral-Ph cotton mat board. “The levers, springs, etc., are made of various metals suitable for the task,” Tedrow says. As for the cotton mat board, that’s just “a sexy word for cardboard, but nice cardboard.”

It’s a precursor to the accordion, invented in the 1820s in England and used today in England, Ireland and Scotland. “It has 60 steel reeds, although it can have 120,” Tedrow says. “Each reed is tuned to a different pitch, and the concertina is fully chromatic. By pressing one of those buttons and moving the bellows you allow the concertina to produce a specific note, hopefully musical.”

Tedrow, 70, has built about 75 concertinas since that first one, selling them in his Homewood Musical Instrument Company for 30 years and now on the internet, too. Somewhere along the way, he also became fascinated with repairing stringed instruments, the area in which his shop specializes.

“My fascination is with the mechanics of an instrument,” he says. “I like fooling with the parts. I’m attracted to their nuts and bolts, with the process of building or repairing. The process never ends, either, because there’s always another one to be repaired.”

Homewood Music has been a fixture in that Birmingham suburb for 30 years. For the first 25, it was across the street from Homewood Park on Central Avenue but moved a bit closer to the heart of downtown Homewood on 28th Avenue South about five years ago. The shop buys, sells, repairs and restores stringed instruments – and a few concertinas. Tedrow has customers as far away as Japan due to his internet presence. “There are almost no shops like this anymore,” he says. “We’re a throwback to the early 1900s.”

“Luthier” is the formal name for what Tedrow and each crew member does. It’s hard to find luthiers like his three employees, who play and fix instruments. “I was working alone when Jason (Burns) wandered in more than 20 years ago,” he says. “He’s far better than me at repairing. Michael (Clayton), who has been with me for six years, has a sum of knowledge I can call on. Matthew (Williams) is the new boy, he has only been with me a few years.”

Matthew Williams (left), Michael Clayton (seated) and Jason Burns are the three luthiers on staff

Tedrow is from a small town in Colorado and moved to Homewood in 1987 because his wife, Klari, wanted to go to law school. “I did not marry a lawyer, I raised one,” he says. Klari, who is quite adept at playing a concertina Tedrow built for her, is now an immigration attorney. “We bought 60 acres in Ashville about two years ago, and we’re building a house there next to the small cabin we live in.”

Homewood was a great place to raise their three kids, who are upset because “we sold their house.” But he and Klari needed some space for their four dogs, which she runs through A.K.C. agility trials.

A real estate agent showed them several places, but they found their Ashville paradise on their own. “We bought directly from Derrick and Amy Heckman,” he says. “The property never even went on the market.”

When he lived in Homewood, Tedrow drove a 1928 Model A Ford back and forth to work. He occasionally drives it around Ashville now. “I have taken it to the town square a couple of times, where it marks its territory with several drops of leaked motor oil,” he says. “I also drive it to our mailbox at end of the road.”

His musical talent probably came from his grandmother and mother. The former was a “real good jazz piano player,” and his mother played guitar, mandolin and other stringed instruments. “Grandmom taught me to play the ukulele,” Tedrow says. He picked up other instruments on his own. “If we define ‘play’ generously, I play the guitar, banjo, bass, ukulele, mandolin, clarinet, saxophone and concertina,” says Tedrow. “I’m trying to learn the tambourine.”

While he played lots of bluegrass banjo in the 70s in Colorado, now he just plays a bit in the shop with visitors and customers. “I also play Irish tunes with my wife and a few close friends,” he says.

When he moved to Homewood, he went to a pawn shop in downtown Birmingham and told them he wanted to repair their instruments. “Sometimes people pawn instruments that need repair or restoration,” he explains. He opened a tiny shop across the street from the park. Then he walked into the office of the superintendent of music education for Birmingham city schools, Dr. Frank Adams, and got the job of repairing their stringed instruments. Later, he started repairing instruments for the education division of the Alabama Symphony Orchestra. Eventually, he had to expand his shop.

Despite his early musical training, he originally wanted to be a forest ranger. He met his wife at Colorado State, where both were in the forestry school. “I played in a bluegrass band with her brother,” Tedrow says. “We soon discovered there weren’t many jobs in forestry, and none in banjo playing. Occupational therapists were in great need, however, so I went back to school and got a degree in that field.” He worked as an OT in Colorado and North Carolina before coming to Birmingham. Although licensed as an OT in Alabama, he has yet to practice here. “I found that I was far more valuable to the state with a banjo,” he says.

For several years, he played Mr. Mom while Klari was in Cumberland School of Law. At the same time, he was doing repairs for those pawn shops, the City of Birmingham and the ASO. He continued to accumulate skills and tools. “I’m entirely self-taught, which just means I did things wrong for a long time,” he says.

At some point he decided to concentrate on one thing he could do as well as anybody. The concertina was an orphan instrument, meaning few people in the USA played one, as far as he was aware. “I never met anyone who did for many years, not in Alabama, anyway,” he says. “So, I bought one and took it apart. The first one I built I made the bellows section from a pair of my daughter’s discarded leather pants. In fact, I sat in church one day, having developed that concentrated stare where it looks like you’re listening, but your mind is far away. I figured it out that day: The bellows are like origami.”

It takes a long time to learn repairing well enough to make money at it, to be good and fast, Tedrow says. “Restoring vintage instruments is an entire other field than putting strings on a guitar,” he says. “It’s an art. You want it to look like the original, without devaluing it.”

When someone points out that what he does could be considered a play on the words, “occupational therapy,” he agrees. “I use the skills I learned as an OT when I teach guitar, banjo, ukulele, etc. I try to analyze how each student will best learn. Some learn best with their auditory skills, some students are cognitively oriented while others learn best with a physical approach.”

Bob and Klari Tedrow and their dogs have taken to country life in Ashville

Sometimes he or his staff will find a secret note in a vintage instrument they are repairing, a note left by the builder while the instrument was under construction. For example, “I’m sorry,” was carved into a “Mossman” dreadnought guitar from a luthier in Kansas in the 1980s. “The builder knew that one day in the far distant future a luthier like our Jason Burns would have a tricky job repairing this guitar,” Tedrow says. “He was apologizing in advance from 40 years ago. It was a note through time. Very clever and thoughtful.” A vintage violin contained a note in Latin that translated to, “In life I was silent, in death I sing.” Tedrow says that was the wood speaking.

In the windows of his shop, facing both inward and outward, are photos of artists and their instruments, ordinary people, some of them customers, most of the photos taken by Tedrow for publicity purposes.

He has a designated photo spot with several backdrops, special lighting and props. Photography is a hobby, he says. Facing outward in the windows are a couple of vintage photos of musicians from the towns he has lived in. “I like to think they are remembered,” he says.

Inside, violins, mandolins, banjos, ukuleles and guitars, acoustic and amplified, hang from the walls of his shop. Some are awaiting repairs, others for their owners to claim them. A glass display case shows off concertinas made and repaired by Tedrow. Tools such as lathes, saws and sanders give the appearance of a carpentry shop, and in a way, it is, because they usually have to make the broken parts they are replacing.

“My favorite job is working on vintage guitars,” says Jason Burns, 45, who started learning his craft as a teenager working on his own guitars. “Of course, I have learned a ton over the years from Bob and other luthiers.” He plays the guitar, ukulele, banjo and the upright bass.

He calculates that over the last 22 years, he and Tedrow have spent 46,000 hours together, and Burns cannot imagine what life would be like without his boss and friend. “He’s a wealth of knowledge about way more than musical instruments,” he says of Tedrow. “He’s the guy who showed me how to become a better person, how to stay married and even how to tie a tie. The list could go on and on. The world needs more people like him.”

Matthew Williams, 26, got into “all of this” because he couldn’t afford the guitars he wanted. “So, I thought with my woodworking background, I could just build them,” he says. “It turns out that’s easier said than done.”

He says he “annoyed himself into a job” by buying “project” guitars, going into Homewood Music and getting Tedrow, Burns and Clayton to tell him how to fix them. “I did this for years, and after they got fed up answering my questions, I asked them for a job. After two years they finally relented, and I started coming in a few days a week and learning how to repair guitars on the job. It is without a doubt the best job I’ve ever had, and I look forward to seeing everyone each week.

Michael Clayton, 48, is a nurse by trade who started working on his own guitars about seven years ago after a bad repair experience at a different store. He watched videos from famous luthiers and followed all of Jason Burns’ repairs on Instagram.

“I happened to meet Jason about six years ago because, as fate would have it, our kids ended up on the same soccer team,” he says. “We became friends, and he invited me to the shop on my days off. I came down to watch him work and to learn from him, and that’s when I met Bob.”

He began working there “little by little,” he says, until he ended up “sort of” in an apprenticeship. “I’ve worked there for six years now and in that time, Bob and Jason have become my dearest friends.”

He describes Tedrow as “a bit of a force of nature,” adding that he’s also kind, intelligent and plays almost everything with strings. “Whenever someone comes in, he immediately greets them and everyone, I mean everyone, gets what we call the ‘Bob Show,’” Clayton says. “He’s one of the most engaging and charismatic people I’ve met. I have learned a great deal about luthiery and also life while spending time with the both of them (Bob and Jason). In short, they broke the mold.”

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Lyrics for Life

Horse Pens’ Songwriter Festival inspiring music on the mountain

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Richard Rybka

There is no doubt that music is a powerful tool, touching our heart strings and transporting us through time and space. The words to certain songs speak to our hearts when, oftentimes, nothing else will. Alabama-raised songwriter Mutt Cooper explains, “I always hope the words connect to the audience and that we’re all in the same emotional space at the same time.”

Cooper, who now lives in Georgia, started playing the guitar and writing music when he was just 10 years old. He now works as an occupational therapist, specializing in traumatic brain injury.

A navy veteran himself, he works with veterans at Martin Army Hospital in Fort Benning. He uses his songwriting skills to address the pain and emotional scars of the wounded, whether they’re military, children or just ordinary people navigating daily life. His song, Tom, has received a lot of attention from Vietnam veterans groups because of its powerful, relatable lyrics.

He wrote the song about his cousin, who served in Vietnam. The cousin, Tom, came back from Vietnam a changed man, a change so profound that he had to live with Cooper’s family and spent most days playing guitar to help him process the pain. “He died in Vietnam, but he didn’t know. He’s got a lot of scars that don’t show,” the haunting lyrics say.

The lyrics to another of Cooper’s songs address the simpler, but broader, issue of aging. The words to I Knew Him When are easily relatable to anyone who has noticed a wrinkle or a grey hair as birthdays come and go.

Staring in the mirror, it’s easy for me to see.
The same young man who lives inside of me.
Well, it makes no sense, and how can it be?
There’s an old man in the mirror looking back at me.

Cooper recently spent a weekend with more than a dozen other songwriters at the Horse Pens 40 Songwriter Festival on Chandler Mountain. The festival’s organizer, Paul Ensign of C&P Entertainment, has been providing the venue and stage to showcase the talents of local, regional and national touring songwriters for four years. “These guys and gals get up on stage, not just to sing, but to give you the emotion behind the words, the experience that helped to write the song,” explains Ensign.

Texas-based songwriter Thom Shepherd, also a festival participant, agrees. “Everybody’s here to really listen to the lyrics and hear the stories behind the songs.” He and his wife, fellow songwriter, Coley McCabe, have both won awards through the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP) and have been named Duo of the Year by the Trop Rock Music Association for the past four years. She has played at the Grand Ole Opry four times.

The two met when they were working with different Nashville publishers housed in the same office building. They were married by an Elvis impersonator in Las Vegas in 2015. They tour regularly and enjoy going to songfests to meet new writers and to reconnect with others. They even hold their own songwriter’s festival in Texas called Lonestar Luau. (Editor’s note: You can check them out at Lonestarluau.com.)

“Write for yourself,” says Shepherd. “That’s what a publisher told me years ago. I’d moved to Nashville to perform. Everyone said you’ve got to be able to write, so that’s when I started working on that. I struggled at first, but then I was counseled to write for myself, about things that have had meaning to me. That’s the place that hit songs come from. That’s when I started thinking about things like my love of cars.”

His love of old cars is what made him reminisce about seeing his first car again after selling it to an old friend. He went back to visit the man and saw the car, sat in the driver’s seat and opened the glove compartment. “That’s when I started to imagine. What if this car had been owned by someone else and what if that someone had left a note in the glove compartment,” says Shepherd excitedly. “And what if that owner had been a young man going off to war who left the note to the new owner in case he didn’t come back? And what if the car was a Corvette?”

With that story in mind, he collaborated with songwriter Wood Newton and wrote the 2001 hit single, Riding with Private Malone. The song was recorded by American Country Music artist David Ball. “You always hope one of your songs will touch people’s lives, and this one has,” says Shepherd. “I hear from people who say this was a particular soldier’s song, and he didn’t make it back. It reminds them of that soldier. Others tell me this song is the reason they joined the military.”

Coley McCabe wrote Don’t Open That Door as a response to the loss of her sister, Tracy. The song was later recorded by country star Loretta Lynn. “I wrote it after Tracy passed, never meaning for it to be recorded,” says McCabe. “But it was pitched to Loretta, and she recorded it. I ran into her a few years later and told her I’d written it. It was shortly after her husband had passed. She sang the chorus to me with a tear in her eye. It was sweet!”

Strong family ties also fuel the fire for fellow songwriter Christina Crystal. She has just turned 30 and has been writing songs for 16 years. At the songwriter’s festival, she explained to the audience the background behind several songs she and her husband, songwriter/producer Nick Biebricher, have written and produced, including the very personal Ultra Sound, a ballad about the experience of expecting the birth of their son.

Another of Crystal’s favorites is a playful lyric that she wrote and performed called, Dolly, Would You Pardon Me, a fun, upbeat song with a nod to vocal great Dolly Parton. The song was nominated for best country song of the year in 2019 at the Independent Music Awards.

“Hit songs begin with words that make people feel something,” says Shepherd. Pure joy and fun are a hallmark in his huge hit summertime party song, Redneck Yacht Club. Written by Shepherd and recorded in 2005 by country music’s Craig Morgan, the lyrics are an invitation to “Meet us out at party cove. Come on in, the water’s fine. Just idle on over an’ toss us a line.”

If you’re out on this lake this summer, you’re sure to hear it. The power of music is fueled by powerful lyrics.

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Little Art Tree

A place to ‘grow’ artists thriving in Ashville

Story by Scottie Vickery
Photos by Richard Rybka

Jess Lauren Alexander sees art in everything. When she looks at coffee filters, she sees flower petals. Colorful yarn looks like the bristles of freshly dipped paintbrushes, and in her mind, plastic bottles have the potential to become sculpted human figures.

“I don’t think I’ve ever not done art,” she said. “My mother’s side of the family is very artsy, and I just took up with it.”

Alexander, who grew up in Ashville, wants children to have the same opportunities she did to explore different artistic mediums, unleash their imagination and develop their creativity. That’s why she opened Little Art Tree on the Courthouse Square just over a year ago.

“It’s a need I don’t think is being met,” she said, adding that art is no longer a regular part of Alabama’s school curriculum. A former substitute teacher, Alexander always had students asking her how to draw different things. When she realized how many children had the desire to learn, she started an afterschool art program at the elementary school. More than 60 children signed up, but the class was short-lived because of the COVID-19 pandemic.

She began teaching again in 2021 and opened the studio that September. “To me, art is not just something to do or a possible career. It’s therapy; it’s an outlet,” she said. “My middle school students deal with so much. Sometimes they just come in here and start drawing and talking, and it’s a release. It gives them a chance to just chill, draw and decompress.”

Alexander, who is married to Andrew and is mom to 12-year-old Dawson, teaches six classes a week to nearly 50 students ranging in age from 4 to 18. She also offers the occasional adult class – a group recently made door hangers – and she’s looking for another teacher to join her so adult classes can be a more regular occurrence. “It’s hard to switch my mindset from children to adults,” she said.

Besides, helping children and teens fall in love with art has become Alexander’s passion. “I teach techniques, but it’s mostly about giving kids space and a place to come and explore art,” she said. “Anyone can be an artist. It’s just finding the style and medium that fits your personality.”

She uses her own family as an example. Her mother, Beverly Burnett, paints landscapes with oils, makes quilts and crochets. Her great-aunt is an abstract painter in Birmingham and works mostly with acrylics. Alexander, whose style is “semi-abstract,” prefers to mix things up a bit, often combining watercolors, acrylics, and ink with non-traditional materials, such as coffee grounds, in her artwork.

To help her students discover their own talents, Alexander’s classes focus on a variety of mediums. “We do a little bit of everything – painting, drawing, mixed media, clay,” she said, adding that she hopes to add a kiln to her ever-growing list of offerings soon. “Some of the kids have just extraordinary talent for such a young age,” she said.

Alexander knows that art lessons can be out of reach for many families, but she wants to make them accessible to as many children as possible. She’s reaching out to individuals and businesses who may be interested in sponsoring a child for $100 a month, $500 for half a year or $1,000 a year. All the materials are provided, and classes are held August through May, she said.

Sparking imaginations

Alexander’s studio, in a historic building that has taken many forms, including a feed store and a beauty parlor, is the perfect backdrop to showcase the students’ work as well as some of her own. Paintings hang on an exposed brick wall, and Alexander loves knowing that the building has a history of inspiring budding artists. Christine McCain, whose family owns the building, was an artist and once taught art classes there, as well. Alexander’s mother was one of her students.

“I fell in love with the building,” Alexander said. A colorful mural of flowers, mushrooms and a tree that Alexander painted on the back wall is a nod to the studio’s name, as well as its mission. “We grow artists here,” it reads.

The classes have proven to be a big hit with the young artists. “I like art,” 10-year-old Jayden said in one recent class. “You can paint and use your imagination.”

Her sister, Kadence, 12, said drawing is her first love, but she loves painting and learning other skills, as well. “I love doing stuff like this,” she said, using a palette knife to paint the black markings on the trunks of birch trees. “I’ve never done this before, and I love creating stuff. When I was little, I loved to draw. I have notebooks full of drawings.”

The same can be said of Alexander, who found her inner artist with a how-to-draw horses book as a child. “I would take paper and that book and sit and trace and copy for hours,” she said. “I did it so much I got to the point where I didn’t have to trace anymore.”

Alexander said she’s studied pretty much all forms of art over the years, including painting, drawing, sculpture and pottery. “I’m always taking classes and workshops to learn new things,” she said.

Although she loves introducing new techniques to her students, Alexander also allows them free time to work on whatever they want. Some paint, some draw, some sculpt with clay and they have access to all of the art and craft supplies she keeps on hand.

Alexander has three cans marked “Theme,” “Description” and “Color” the students can use if they get stuck. They can draw an idea from each of the cans to give them a direction or starting point. Alexander recently drew “fish” for the theme, “stressed out” for the description and “warm colors” for the palette.

“It’s usually something silly, but it will spark an idea for them to work on,” she said, adding that watching them explore is one of her favorite things to do. “Everyone has a medium they’re better at and they enjoy more, and I want each of them to find their thing. When they do, I get teary-eyed. It just gives me the most joy.”

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