Chandler Mountain landmark

Mt. Lebanon First Congregational Methodist Church

Story by Joe Whitten

Submitted photos

Pioneers settling here were generally people of the Christian faith, and very soon they formed churches. First Baptist Springville (1817) and Ashville United Methodist (1818) are documented as over 200 years old.

Two hundred years ago, St. Clair County’s forested mountains and lush valleys had welcomed a number of pioneer families into its boundaries. Early written accounts record that these hearty settlers established homes among the Native Americans who populated the area until their removal by President Andrew Jackson.

But oral history speaks of an older one. In the 1975 Some Early Alabama Churches, published by The Alabama Society Daughters of the American Revolution, is found written about today’s Macedonia Baptist in Ragland, “… this church is said to be the oldest church in St. Clair County, and it is thought [that] it was organized in 1812.” However, it gives no source for this date, and so far, none has been found. One hopes that someday an old diary or family Bible might establish the correct date of this church. Presbyterian churches appeared later in the 19th century, and as the century progressed, populations increased, and churches sprang up throughout St. Clair County. Several of these will turn 200 years old in a few years, and many have celebrated over 100 years of existence.

One of the loveliest places in St. Clair is Chandler Mountain’s high plateau, which extends about 10 miles in northwest St. Clair County. Today it is the county’s garden spot, but it lay a wooded wilderness when Joel Chandler settled at its base in the early 1800s. Oral history states that hunters had a trail up the mountain near Chandler’s home, and it came to be called Chandler’s Mountain. Over time, the apostrophe “s” dropped off, and we have today’s name.

Vivian Qualls, in her History of Steele Alabama, records that in 1855 Cicero Johnson was the first brave soul to forge his way up the mountain to settle. Gradually, other settlers followed, but it wasn’t until 1905 that the first church was established there. However, community worship and revivals occurred before 1905, for people of faith have always worshiped together in some fashion even when denominational churches had not organized. Established churches existed at the foot of the mountain, but getting there wasn’t easy, for the trip would have been by foot, horseback or wagon down a mountain trail. Like any early settlement community, believers met together in homes to worship as often they could.

One of the early settlers, Hezekiah McWaters, was a Methodist preacher, and Mrs. Qualls writes that he preached and conducted revivals in Greasy Cove at the foot of the mountain.

The roots of today’s Mt. Lebanon rest solidly in Ellijay, Ga., for a large percentage of early Chandler Mountain settlers came from there. Among those were the Robinson brothers, Bob, Jake and Dan. It was through the influence of this family that the mountain’s first church came into being.

Another Robinson brother, William J., a Congregational minister, would travel from Ellijay to Chandler and conduct revivals. It was a big event when William visited, and the collective Robinson families would attend his revival services. As a result of the 1905 revival, Mt. Lebanon Congregational Church organized with 11 charter members: William Robinson, J.J. Robinson, Elvina Robinson, Daniel Robinson, Elizabeth Robinson, Della Robinson, J.B. “Bent” Engle, Lucy Engle, Hettie Hyatt, Delia Wood and Ollie Engle Wood. Bent Engle sold the church two acres on which to build a sanctuary. Cost? $4.

William Robinson served as the first pastor of Mt. Lebanon from 1905-1911. He moved from the mountain, but in 1912, he returned to preach the revival services, and during that revival fell ill and died. His remains were interred in the cemetery across the road from Mt. Lebanon church.

The Congregational Church came to America through the English Puritans who suffered persecution for their non-Anglican doctrines. Coming to America, the Puritans established in 1620 the Parish Church, Plymouth, Mass., as the first Congregational Church in America. By 1640, 18 churches had been established in Massachusetts.

Jonathan Edwards, considered America’s greatest theologian, pastored a Congregation church when he preached the sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” A sermon documented as having a profound effect during the 18th century revival movement known as the First Great Awaking.

We don’t know who brought the Congregational Church to Ellijay, but we do know that members of that denomination moved to Chandler Mountain and organized Mt. Lebanon Congregational Church.

Mt. Lebanon’s name has changed more than once over the years as the original Congregational denomination became less traditionally biblical in their theology. In the 1970s, the denomination’s name changed to United Church of Christ, which changed the meaning of “congregational” church. Therefore, on Oct. 24, 1981, Mt. Lebanon held a conference to discuss membership in the First Congregational Methodist denomination. A month later, the church voted to make the change, and on Dec. 18, 1981, Lebanon was accepted to full membership. Today, the church’s name is Mt. Lebanon First Congregational Methodist Church. The denomination’s headquarters is in Boaz.

Early minutes record interesting history. In the November 1928 business meeting, offerings received from members totaled $28.44. After paying National Conference dues and other expenses, $6.95 was “cash turned over to church treasurer.”

From August 1947 a penciled note in the record books states that it was a wonderful year with nearly “100 conversions. Mary (Ma) Smith said, ‘the whole of Chandler Mountain got saved.’”

Unlike the United Methodist, the First Congregational Methodist local church owns its own property, chooses its pastors, baptizes by emersion and oversees itself rather than being presided over by bishops.

The church records contain the names of all who have served as pastors. The pastor who served from 1933 to 1936, Annie Moats, is of interest, for women pastors were not approved by most churches in those days. According to Mt. Lebanon’s history booklet, Annie and Alley Mathis “Mac” Moats came to Chandler Mountain in the early 1930s. Of German ancestry, Annie Struckmeyer Moats was an ordained Congregational minister. Having pastored churches in Cullman and Lawrence counties, she met and married Mac Moats in one of those counties. Annie died in 1937 and was buried in the Mt. Lebanon Cemetery. The Moats’ granddaughter, Barbara Robinson, was a member of Mt. Lebanon from 1959 until her death on April 13, 2019, age 92. Barbara’s husband, C.L., was a church member from 1948 until his death on Sept. 27, 2018, age 91, and served as a deacon until his death. He was a direct descendant of charter member Dan Robinson.

In the 1940s, Mt. Lebanon replaced the original wooden church with one of cement blocks painted white. This building had a covered porch at the entrance and three new Sunday school rooms at the back. These rooms were fitted with doors that folded so the space could also be used as a fellowship hall.

As years passed, the block church was bricked and a steeple added in the mid-1980s. Around 1989, the church added a Fellowship Hall and in the 1990s installed a baptistry in the sanctuary and added more restrooms and a pastor’s study. The 2000s saw the inside of the sanctuary refurbished with new drywall, carpet and lighting in time for the 100th anniversary in 2005.

Prior to the baptistry being added, Susan Kell remembers when the church baptized converts in the creek and later in Chandler Mountain Lake. Karen Beasley recalls being baptized in the lake. “I was baptized in Chandler Mountain Lake by Carl Gaskin and Wayne Deweese. It was so funny, because my sister-in-law, Faye Beasley, was being baptized the same day, and her dog went out into the lake, and we couldn’t get that dog to go back, and the preachers finally said, ‘Well, just let him come on out.’ And they went ahead with the baptizing.”

However, a building with all conveniences is not the church; the individual members and the pastor who shepherds them are the church. So it has been with Mt. Lebanon, and it has flourished through the years because of the members’ faithfulness in serving God and in nurturing family and friends.

Caring for one another

The story is told of a teenage couple who wed and started married life in relative’s home. This did not work out and the adolescent couple suddenly found themselves without a place to live. Needing work, the husband went to a member of Mt. Lebanon, told him his predicament, asked, “Could I farm with you?”

This godly farmer and his wife took the couple under their compassionate wings and provided the help needed. The farmer is now in Heaven, but not forgotten, for the young man learned to farm well and successfully. Recently, he saw the farmer’s widow and told her, “Your family has meant a lot to me. Your husband put me on my first tractor, and told me, ‘Farm.’”

Yearly events at Mt. Lebanon include the Easter Sunrise Service; Homecoming every fourth Sunday in May; Women’s Conference in August; an October Fall Festival with soup, chili and desserts; then in December, participation in Franklin Graham’s international Samaritan’s Purse ministry, a Christmas program, and a fellowship meal. Of the Easter Sunrise Service, Susan Kell said, “That is a beautiful service. It’s outside, right on the bluff overlooking the distance.”

Many of Mt. Lebanon’s activities and events occur in cooperation with Chandler Mt. Baptist and churches in the valley. Karen Beasley told of the October Trunk-or-Treat event. “Our men always come together and cook the hotdogs — we do 700 — and everybody helps wrap hotdogs. This event is sponsored by all the area churches donating and working together.” No hotdogs remain when the fun night ends.

Youth Night includes all churches. “We have Youth Service,” Karen said, “where we do a community Youth Night with all the local churches — Ashville First Baptist, Chandler Mt. Baptist, Steele Baptist, Deerman’s Chapel and Reeves Grove. We do that on nearly every fourth Sunday night. The churches rotate. Susan’s grandson, Garrett Spears, played the guitar at our last one at Chandler Mt. Baptist.”

Four churches work together to prepare Backpack Buddies. This local mission outreach provides nutritious food for families who need help in providing for their families.

A nursing home visit each month is another local mission’s outreach. “We go to the Attalla nursing home and Gadsden Healthcare,” Susan Kell said. “Brother Alvin Turner, our pastor, brings a short sermon, and the residents enjoy that spiritual contact — even the staff enjoys it. Our choir members who are not working also go. We take a keyboard with us. The lady who plays it is in her 80s, but you’d not know it. Afterwards, we go out to lunch.”

Mt. Lebanon has international missions outreach as well. For several years, the church has partnered with New Desire Christian Ministries Church and Mission in La Ermita, Honduras.

Bro. Alvin Turner has pastored Mt. Lebanon for 16 years, which is a testimony to his ministry considering the fact that some churches change ministers often. In an interview, he said that growth in numbers is good if it is connected with spiritual growth. His heartfelt desire is for the church members to continue to grow spiritually as the years progress.

In speaking of Mt. Lebanon’s missions’ work, Bro. Alvin’s voice revealed the excitement. “Going on a mission trip will change your life.” He feels blessed to have made several mission trips, for the church has worked a number of years in Honduras at La Ermita with a mission and a church owned and run by New Desire Christian Ministries. Mt. Lebanon has helped support them financially and physically with constructing buildings there. By returning year after year to the same place, the church has built a relationship with the community. Bro. Turner sees these mission trips as obeying God’s command to “go into all the world” and share the Gospel.

Current Mt. Lebanon deacons are Josh Kell, Jerrell Jordan, Jason Ballard, Steve Bryant, Eddie Beasley and Johnny Beasley. Bro. Alvin said that he and the deacons “have a wonderful relationship” working together in the church. Brothers, Eddie and Johnny Beasley, are descended from early Chandler Mountain settler Bob Robinson.

For the music of the church, Sandra Dobbins, pianist, and Bro. Alvin, choir director, work together in selecting congregational songs and choir specials.

When asked about the church’s senior member, Frances Kell, Bro. Alvin spoke of her as “an amazing lady” who is a godly influence in the church and community. He also spoke of Frances’ husband, Ernest, and of his work in the church, recalling that “he didn’t like to spend money.” And that’s a good thing since a church is using God’s money given by its members.

When asked about church members who are or were influential in the church, Karen Beasley and Susan Kell both responded with these names: Aunt Margaret Fore, Ernest Kell and Wayne Deweese. Both ladies talked of Deweese, telling how people used to walk to Mt. Lebanon, and “… you’d see them coming through the fields and hear the most beautiful singing as they sang all the way to church.” Ernest Kell’s widow, 94-year-old Frances, is a sustaining influence in the church today.

Of Ernest Kell, Susan said, “My father-in-law, Ernest, remembered coming from Ellijay to the mountain in a wagon. He said he walked a lot of the way, but when it would rain, he would get up in the wagon, and his mother would cover him with her long dress. He said somebody had been here and came back to Ellijay and said, ‘That’s where we need to go; there’s all sorts of farmland.’ He was 12 years old.”

An autumn drive up the mountain with the sunshine making a stained-glass canopy of arching multi-colored trees ended at Frances Kell’s home. Although in her 90s, she remains more active than many folks who are years younger. She drives herself to church and Steele Nutrition Center during the day, but confides, “I don’t drive at night.”

She and Ernest married right after he came home from World War II and settled in to farming, first growing cotton and then tomatoes. She recalled the early freeze of 1948 that caused enormous loss to the farmers. “We were picking tomatoes in that field right over there, and somebody said, ‘We’d better turn our buckets over, it’s gonna snow tonight.’ We turned the buckets over, but we didn’t think it would. But boy did it come a big one.” Interestingly she did not mention the financial loss, which gives evidence of faith and courage in the face of adversity.

She spoke lovingly of her church and workers there, mentioning Margaret Fore as having taught the Kell children in Sunday school. She told how Ernest had been a deacon, a Sunday school teacher and the song leader for many years. “He attended those old-timey singing schools,” she recalled, “and he really learned music. I went, but I didn’t learn it. When he was getting to where he’d forget which verse he should be on — that problem had started to set in — they were trying to decide on a new song leader. They talked to one they were interested in, and when they asked what he’d charge, he said, ‘Why, I’ll not charge you anything.’ And Ernest spoke up and said, ‘That’s your man!’” Declining in some ways, perhaps, but he was still thrifty with church monies. That was Ernest Kell.

Revivals, fellowship kindle memories

When asked if she remembered any special church event, she told of a revival conducted by Bro. Bean. “He tried to bring it to a close three times, and it kept going — went on for three weeks. People were going to the altar and getting saved. That was the revival that Ma (Mary) Smith said, ‘Everybody on the mountain got saved.’ And all of her family did get saved, and they were grown men. People prayed back then,” she said thoughtfully.

Every church-going person knows funny things sometimes happen in church meetings, and Frances’ memories go down this path. “People would shout back then,” she said. “Bellie Hyatt was shouting in a service one day, and she looked out the window and saw their mules had got loose from the wagon. She stopped shouting long enough to tell her husband, ‘Quinten, the mules are loose!,’ then went back to shouting.”

Another memory came to mind. “Aunt Mollie Barnes shouted, too. She had long hair that she rolled up in a knot on the back of her head, like women did back then. She’d get to shouting and her hair would shake loose, and bobby pins would go flying. Joe, her husband, would come behind her picking up the pins off the floor and give them to her when her shouting was over.”

The subject of church fellowship dinners came up, and when asked what special dishes she took, she replied, “I usually take cakes. I used to take different ones, but now they like for me to bring my strawberry cake.” This cake is famous at Mt. Lebanon for it is Frances’ own recipe. “My husband’s favorite cake was coconut — you know, the old-fashioned kind with seven-minute icing. Well, one year we had so many strawberries that I wondered why I couldn’t use strawberries and sugar instead of coconut and sugar for the icing. So, I tried it, and they loved it.

“I have a friend who’s been bedridden for years, and he loves that cake. So, I made him one for his birthday. I enjoy doing that for people.” Frances may never have given thought to this, but she has a ministry of baking that is as useful in God’s work as any other area of service. Recently on the PBS The Great British Baking Show, a contestant said this of her cooking: “When I cook for family and friends I mix in love. If I’m kneading dough, I knead in love; if I’m mixing cake batter, I mix in love. I bake with love.” That seems to describe Frances Kell’s method as well.

When Frances’ great grandson, William “Will” Kell Spears, was asked what he loved about his great-grandmother’s cooking, he said, “Her biscuits! Nobody can make biscuits like she does. I’ve tried and mother has tried, but we can’t make them as good.” When Frances heard this, she laughed and said, “They just don’t try often enough. I’ve been making ‘em a long time.”

Will Spears is a sophomore at the University of Mobile majoring in Special Education, and he bears the hallmarks of a godly heritage received from great-grandparents, grandparents, parents and church. At age 12, he went on his first mission trip to Honduras, and has returned seven more times. In January 2019, he wrote in an online article, “I truly have no words to describe how grateful I am that God has allowed me to be a part of New Desire Honduras from the very beginning, and has allowed me to experience His presence at work. … This ministry … has challenged me to grow in my faith, to love more, to listen and trust God’s will for my life, and to know that we serve a God who is good and can make even the worst of situations display His majesty and sovereignty over our lives.”

Of Will’s 2018 trip to Africa, Will told in an interview, “My Trip to Kenya changed me in ways I could have never imagined. I went on this trip to serve, love and share the Gospel with the people in a large village outside of Nairobi. I didn’t expect, however, to be taught so much myself, about God’s love, His faithfulness, and what true worship looks like from the amazing people I met there. … It truly rocked my world. Join me in praying for the believers in Africa, Honduras and America, and know that we are all called to make disciples, whether it be across the sea or across the street.”

Near the end of his Honduras article, Will wrote, “The people who make up the New Desire Christian Church are some of the most loving people you will ever meet in this world.” These words seem to describe Mt. Lebanon First Congregational Methodist Church as well. You’d be welcomed to worship with them on a Sunday or to join them for Bible study on Wednesday evening.

Try to visit on a day when they’re having fellowship lunch afterwards and Frances Kell is there with her famous strawberry cake. You’ll find food for both soul and body at this historic St. Clair County church.

Carl Coupland

Historian, storyteller, family man, friend

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

This month’s travels along St Clair County backroads brings us to the Bethel community to stop at the home of retired Moody businessmen and local historian, Carl Coupland.

Born into a hardworking family on Jan. 16, 1932, Carl grew up with a work ethic that helped him succeed in his endeavors. He comprehended economics early-on. “I tried raising beef cattle on a small scale,” he said, “but it didn’t take long for me to get out of that, because you could go to your local supermarket and buy a bag of dried cow manure for your flower bed or garden plants for $0.20 per pound, but live cattle was selling for $0.18 per pound. The economy was all out of balance when the manure was worth more than the cow!”

Coupland family roots in St. Clair County go back prior to 1828, the year Carl’s great grandfather, Columbus Constantine “C.C.” Coupland, was born near Cook Springs. C.C. married Elizabeth Emaline Godwin in 1848, and they set up housekeeping in a home he had built in the Bethel community. Around 1856, on today’s Coupland Road, he built another home which served Couplands for generations. Carl’s granddad, Ira, was born in the house.

Carl enjoys telling how his parents met. “My mother, Mary Elizabeth Sheets, was born where Oak Mountain Park is located. Then she moved with her parents to land they owned where Greystone subdivision is today.

“Daddy, Lester Coupland, was down there doing rock work on Bold Springs Church and boarding with the Standifer family. He went to a Pie Supper at the church, where folk would bid on pies the girls brought. He saw that pretty girl there, and he bid on her pie – up to $5!”

They were married March of 1929 at Rev. Hurst’s home in Taylorsberg, Alabama, near today’s Kerr Road.

Lester and Mary Elizabeth set up housekeeping in a house on Coupland land where today’s Lazy V lakes are, but there were no lakes then. Two sons were born into the family, Joe (1930) and Carl (1932).

 Lester plowed with a mule farmland which was terraced to prevent erosion. Carl’s earliest memory there occurred shortly before he turned four. “I was in the yard, and my Dad said, ‘We’re gonna move way over there across that mountain.’ We could see Bald Rock Mountain. …I was three years and eight months old when we moved to Camp Winnataska.”

Lester worked as stone mason and caretaker at Camp Winnataska, owned by the Birmingham Sunday School Council. The Council provided the Couplands a rent-free home. It had a fireplace and a kitchen sink, and it made no difference to them that the house had no electricity, no running water, bathroom facilities or telephone, for they were accustomed to that. Lester’s salary of $35 per month had increased to $70 a month in 1940 when he moved the family back to the farm.

Carl and Joe explored every acre of the camp while living there. They attended school one year at Stewart’s Crossroads near Prescott and then rode the bus to Moody School two years.

Carl’s memories of Camp Winnataska and Lester’s stone masonry are in Discover, June-July 2012, and can be read at this link: bit.ly/2ryrTXu

On the farm, Joe and Carl plowed with mules, helping their Dad with the farming. In 1942, Lester took a job with the Coca-Cola Co. in Leeds, driving a delivery truck in Jefferson and St. Clair counties. After that, he drove a gasoline truck for J.W. McCraney Co. in Leeds.

In 1945, Lester bought the old C.C. Coupland home on Coupland Road. Carl’s mom and her friend Mable Moore wallpapered the house and got it move-in ready. This was their first home to have a bathroom.

Carl recalls moving day. “Daddy went off to work one morning, and Mother said, ‘Let’s move.’ I was 13 years old and Joe was 15. We hooked up the two mules, Old Jane and Old Kate, and drove that wagon and started moving our stuff. We moved all the furniture that day.”

There were two girls in the community, Carolyn Moore and Nelda June Taylor, who helped them move, and were a great help to Mrs. Coupland. She was used to boys’ help and enjoyed having girl-help that day.

Driving home from work, Lester saw smoke curling from the chimney, stopped and discovered a tidy home and supper simmering on the wood cook-stove.

Carl finishes the story. “The man Daddy drove the truck for also had a tobacco and confectionery company, and Daddy had brought home a box of Hershey’s candy. Now, chocolates were hard to come by during WWII. I don’t remember whether it was 12 or 24 bars, but those girls ate up our box of candy the day we moved.”

Carl chuckled and said, “The little 13-year-old Nelda June Taylor became my wife nine years later on 3 December 1954. As of now, I have been lucky enough to live with the best woman on earth for more than 65 years.”

Joe and Carl attended Branchville School through the sixth grade and then attended Odenville school. Joe graduated from St. Clair County High School in 1948, attended college and eventually earned a PhD from Ohio State. Dr. Coupland served as principal of Phillips High School in Birmingham and of Morgan County High School in Hartselle. He was director of Adult Education with the Birmingham City Board of Education when he retired. Shortly after retirement, he died of pancreatic cancer in June 1985. He was the first PhD elected to the St. Clair County Board of Education, of which he was chairman when he died.

A desire to serve

Carl’s interests took him in a different but productive direction. Six months’ shy of graduating high school, he joined the Air Force. Signing up before his eighteenth birthday, he couldn’t leave then because his parents wouldn’t sign for him. But, on his birthday, Jan. 17, 1950, he boarded Odenville’s Mize Bus to Birmingham and took the train for Lackland Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas, for basic training.

As he tells it, “I was young and knew everything at 18 years old. My parents didn’t know anything, and I had the world by the tail with a down-hill pull!”

After Lackland, Carl went to Radio Operator School at Keesler Air Force Base, Biloxi, Miss. The Korean War broke out in June 1950, so after finishing at Keesler in October, Carl and others were sent to Mitchell Air Force Base, Long Island, New York, for reassignment.

Carl’s family feared he was destined for Korea, but instead he landed at Ft. Meade, Md., in Aircraft Control and Warning. One day the commanding officer asked for three volunteers to go to work in Flight Safety at Air Defense Command Headquarters in Colorado Springs. Carl volunteered. 

Given a week’s furlough and having heard his buddies tell about hitchhiking, he decided to hitchhike home. He took a bus from Ft. Meade to Winchester, Va., then got on U.S. 11, put out his thumb, and the first car, a new 1950 Chevrolet, stopped.

Carl thought he recognized the driver’s voice but couldn’t place it. When they introduced themselves, it was Bert Parks, who had the famous New York radio program, Stop the Music. He was going to Rome, Ga., for a show and had to side-track to Columbia, S.C., to get two showgirls, and Carl went with him.

Parks thanked Carl for his service and paid for all the meals on the trip. “Wouldn’t let me spend anything on the way down,” Carl recalled.

Arriving in Rome at 2 o’clock on a cold, pitch-black December morning, Carl got back on the highway to catch a ride. No headlights lit the blackness all night. “Just after daybreak,” Carl said, “I saw a Greyhound bus coming that had ‘Birmingham’ written on it. I flagged him down and rode the bus to Springville.”

Carl paid $2 to a Springville taxi driver to take him to his parents’ home. He visited five or six days, then caught a bus back to Fort Meade, and from there, the volunteers took a train to Colorado Springs.

The train trip took two days with a four-hour lay-over in Chicago where the USO Club fed the volunteers and gave each one a Bible. The men left the train in Denver and took a bus 70 miles further to Colorado Springs.

The Air Defense Command had just been started, and to be in the center of the country had moved to a Colorado Springs Army Base and was redoing it. Headquarters were completed and in use, but the barracks weren’t finished. So, for about four months, the men lived in a hotel in Manitou Springs.

Carl bought a 1936 Chevrolet for $35.  He and two of his buddies drove it to and from the base until they completed the barracks.

Because Carl was a clerk and a radio operator, he was assigned to work with officer pilots who had to fly four hours a month in order to keep their flying status – their wings.

The United States had Aircraft Control and Warning squadrons as well as Fighter Squadrons stationed around the country.

Carl, promoted to the flight safety crew, tracked the locations on a large map above his desk. On it, blue pins showed the location of every Fighter Interceptor Squadron, and red ones of every Aircraft Control and Warning Squadron.

For this work, Carl knew secret information and had to have top secret clearance. The FBI investigated him, sending agents to Odenville and Branchville to talk with neighbors, friends, preachers and teachers. 

“My parents thought this boy was in trouble,” Carl laughs, “but I wasn’t. After that, whenever we had an accident involving one of our interceptor planes, we flew to investigate the scene.”

Carl’s crew collected wreckage. If fatalities had occurred, casualty remains had been cleared by an earlier crew. However, as he worked one site, the sun glinted off something. “I think that was roughest scene I ever went to,” Carl said. “Two F-86 Sabres flew out of the fog and right into the side of a mountain. There wasn’t much left.

“We collected wreckage parts and pieces and got ‘em piled up. I saw something shining on the ground. It was a man’s hand with a gold ring on it.  I picked up the hand and gave it to the commanding officer. He was to get the ring to the widow. I trusted him to do that.”

Such memories linger, and Carl reflects, “You know, I have sometimes thought about that hand at 12 o’clock at night.”

Carl and his buddies used free weekends exploring Colorado – Pike’s Peak, Will Rogers Shrine, Garden of the Gods, Seven Falls and parks. They made one Juarez, Mexico, excursion with Carl protesting it might not be a wise trip. Carl drove his car, and one buddy rode his motorcycle. At the border, Carl parked his car at a gas station and paid the attendant to watch it. His buddy chained the front wheel of his motorcycle to a telephone pole away from the station.

It didn’t take a long to realize Juarez wasn’t where they should be, and they returned to where they’d parked. “My car was fine,” Carl laughed, “but all that was left of the motorcycle was the front wheel chained to the pole.”

An interesting follow-up to Carl’s Air Force years is that his cousin, Adm. James A. Winnefeld, Jr., who had been an instructor in the Navy Top Gun School and had done the flying in the movie Top Gun, became the officer in charge of Carl’s old outfit in Colorado Springs. Adm. James A. Winnefeld’s mother, Fredda Coupland, was born in St Clair County. She married career Navy man, James A.Winnefeld Sr., later an admiral himself. 

In President Obama’s administration, Adm. James Winnefeld Jr., became vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He was the second highest ranking military person in the United States at that time, serving under Gen. Martin Dempsey, chairman.

While Carl served in the Air Force, Nelda June Taylor earned her nursing degree. She had worked her way through three years training at the Jefferson Hillman Hospital in Birmingham, when the University of Alabama bought Hillman Hospital, and it became UAB Hospital. June’s graduation ceremonies were at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa.

Carl and June married Dec. 3, 1954. As a registered nurse, June worked at ACIPCO Medical Group and at Dr. Davis’ Clinic in Leeds.

Before settling full-time as a realtor, Carl worked at different jobs. Gulf Oil Co. put him at a station on Highland Ave and 20th Street, with gas islands all the way around the corner.

He had the 11-to-7 shift and was by himself from 1 a.m. to 5 a.m. “I had a money changer on my belt, a roll of money in my pocket, and was there by myself pumping gas at night. I felt safe back then,” he recalls.

Then he opened a service station in Branchville, at the location of the car lot today on the corner of Hurst Road and U.S. 411. He and June bought a house and nine acres across the road from the station.

Their son, Mike, was born there in 1957, and they lived there until 1968 when they moved to the property where their home is today. Eventually, he divided the Branchville acreage into lots for a subdivision there.

For a while, he had an insurance debit route from Cahaba Heights to Sylacauga. Realizing that wasn’t for him, he took a job with Leeds businessman, Judge McCraney, who owned McCraney Tobacco and Confectionary Co.

Asked about his real estate work, Carl said, “I started buying land and farms in 1955, while I was working other jobs. I did this until 1968 when I got my real estate broker’s license and opened an office in Leeds across from the Pants Store.”

While Carl was building his real estate business, Mike graduated from high school and married Jeanie Kerr. They became parents to twin daughters. Carl said of his daughter-in-law, “She is the nicest person you could have ever imagined in your life.” 

Mike became a union carpenter and had worked his way to a superintendent’s position. Advancement sometimes brings relocation, and in 1985, the company wanted Mike to move to Florida. However, he told his father, “I really don’t want to go.” Carl said, “Come into the real estate business with me, and we’ll see how you do.” Mike runs the business today.

Carl stayed in Leeds until 1985, then moved to Moody and opened Moody Realty. He and Mike together ran Moody Realty Co. until Carl retired at age 84 in 2016.

Recalling his work, Carl said, “My business was great. People were coming out of Birmingham and moving to Leeds, Moody and Odenville. I remember selling five houses in one day.”

Catherine Lovejoy worked in the gas company in Leeds next door to Carl’s office, and the Lovejoys and Carl became friends. “Lyman (Lovejoy) was selling real estate part time and holding down a full-time job,” Carl said.

“He came in my office one day and asked me, ‘Do you think if I got into the real estate business full time that I could make it?’ I said, ‘Lyman, the time is right. People are moving out of Birmingham. Get you six months’ grocery money ahead and jump into it.’

“He didn’t take my advice. He got a year’s grocery money ahead and jumped in. Well, it wasn’t long until he had enough business that Catherine had to quit work and help him. … Lyman was always honest with me. We trusted each other. He just had more nerve than I did. I made a living, and he made a fortune.”

Some land sales Carl remembers with pride, and rightly so. Leeds Memorial Park is enjoyed today on land he sold to the city through Mayor Jack Courson. Carl worked with the St. Clair County Board of Education to obtain land for the Moody High School, Junior High School and Middle School – and land for a second road into the school property. Shortly before he retired, he worked with Moody’s Mayor Joe Lee for the Jack’s Family Restaurant site to be located on Moody Parkway. And we all know that the problems of the world have been solved over breakfast at a Jack’s round table, Anywhere, USA.

 Of his son and Moody Realty, Carl says with pride, “Mike has done well with the business. Paula Krafft is his right arm, and Allie, her daughter-in-law, works in the office. Paula and Allie are the most knowledgeable real estate people I have ever known. Mike could go off fishing three days, and they could run the place.”

On occasion, a real estate person has not been above-board and honest with Carl, but he never retaliated. He quietly wrote the person’s name on a piece of paper, dropped it in his bottom desk drawer, and never did business with them again.

Today, June and Carl are doting grandparents and great-grandparents to Beverly and husband Alex Armstrong with their daughters, Allee June and Caroline, and to Ginger and husband, Jeremy Gilbert, with their children, Jackson Cade, Kinslee Morgan and Ellison Kate.

This younger generation is growing up hearing Carl’s memories of the past. But in case he doesn’t share this Halloween tale, we record it here.

One fateful Oct. 31, many years ago, Carl and three friends had the prankish idea to put a cow in their ball coach’s house while he and his wife were at a party. This they did and skedaddled – home free, they thought. However, when Mrs. Coach found a cow in her living room, she exclaimed, “Carl Coupland and (name withheld to respect the dead) did this!’ She guessed two correctly, but Mrs. Coach never told the pranksters’ parents. She had boys of her own.

Should you have an hour or two to visit him, Carl can tell you St. Clair County history that he learned from listening to his father and grandfather tell of their lives and from reading anything he can get his hands on.

Carl Coupland: father, grandfather, businessman, historian and conversationalist. Listen to him. He’s a St. Clair County icon worth knowing and hearing.

Whitney Junction

A place of memories, lore
and a storied past

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

Whitney Junction, lying in northwest St. Clair County at the intersection of US Highways 11 and 231, is one of the many unincorporated communities throughout the county. The original junction, however, was east of there in 1891 when the Tennessee River, Ashville and Coosa Railroad connected with the Alabama Great Southern (AGS) Railroad.

Settlers had arrived in the area long before the building of the train station in 1872, when the AGS began operation and before the US Post Office began in 1875. The station and post office were named for Charles O. Whitney, a whiskey-drinking, gambling Reconstruction Carpetbagging politician, who had been active in establishing the AGS railroad from Birmingham to Chattanooga.

Records show that James C. Ward was appointed the first postmaster on March 22, 1875. Surnames of the other postmasters ring of old St. Clair County families — Yates, Box, Beason, Early, Partlow, Sheffield and Shelton.

The First Settlers

According to Linda Moyer, a Neeley descendant, around the time that Alabama became a state in 1819, two North Carolina sisters and their husbands settled in today’s Whitney. The two couples were Elizabeth Brumfield and William McCorkle and Charity Brumfield and Thomas Neeley. Coming with the McCorkles were their daughter and her husband, Eliza Louisa and Anderson Reeves. Louisa and Anderson had 15 children.

The area grew as the Partlow, Montgomery, Sheffield, Bowlen, Allman and Harp families settled there. Children grew up, fell in love, and these families became interconnected through marriages.

Cowan Sheffield married Mary Allman, and the home they built still stands off Highway 11, just south of Reeves Grove Church. Their granddaughter, Linda Moyer, believes they built the house in the 1860s, well before the church’s organization in 1872. “The Reeves Grove Church records,” she recalled, “say that my granddaddy would start the fire every Sunday morning in the potbelly stove.”

According to Moyer, Cowan Sheffield’s uncle, Wesley Sheffield, Sr. “…rode the horse his son had brought back from the Civil War to collect money” to build the Reeves Grove Church, and that John Partlow “hewed the logs and split the shingles” for the building.

Reeves’ descendant, Joe Sweatt, recalled, “My great-great grandparents, Louisa and Anderson Reeves, donated the land to build the church on.” Sweatt told of a c1872 family letter stating that the supporting timbers of the church were cut in Etowah County, shipped down the Coosa River to Greensport, and then hauled by ox wagon to the church location.

Attendance increased in the early 2000s, and the church added a new Fellowship Hall next to the sanctuary. By 2007, having outgrown the 1872 building altogether, they constructed a larger sanctuary, connecting it to the Fellowship Hall.

Rev. Paul Alexander became pastor of the church as the new building reached completion, and he conducted the first worship service in it. A few years later, the church began Phase Two, during which they added Sunday School rooms.

Church leaders today include deacons Clarence Harris, Jerry Payne, Johnny Kuykendall and Maurice Wilkins. Jerry Payne is Sunday School director. Music director is Charles Simmons. In addition to the choir, Rev. Alexander said, “We have a group of young folks who do special singing for us.”

Three pianists serve the church: Jenny Greggs, Deb Kuykendall and Cindy Alexander. Youth Directors Zach and Stormy Davis participate in community youth services sponsored by several churches that take turns hosting services during the year.

Expressing his vision for the church, Alexander said, “Our biggest goal is to see people come to know the Lord Jesus Christ. We would love for our church to grow, but I would rather that the church grows spiritually rather than just adding numbers. We don’t focus on numbers. We focus on people getting closer to the Lord and winning folks to Christ.”

Efforts to restore the historic 1872 Reeves Grove Church are detailed in Elaine Hobson Miller’s article in the April-May 2019 Discover.

Reeves Grove School

The original deed for Reeves Grove Church stated that the Eliza Reeves hoped the building would also be a school. According to Moyer, Cowan Sheffield served as first headmaster when the school opened in the church. Later, a schoolhouse was constructed across the road to the right of where the cemetery is today.

Ashville Railroad

Montgomery’s The Weekly Advertiser reported on April 23, 1891, “The Tennessee River, Ashville and Coosa Railroad has been completed from Whitney Station on the Alabama Great Southern Railroad to Ashville, the county seat of St. Clair County. The new line is now open for traffic. The road will be extended to the Tennessee River in the north and to a point on the Southern Pacific in the south at an early date.”

Mattie Lou Teague Crow records in her History of St. Clair County that the 1890s depression forced this railroad venture into bankruptcy. She wrote, “The steel rails were ripped up for scrap iron [sic]. The old ties rotted. Today’s Whitney-Ashville highway uses most of the old right-of-way.”

The 1886 African American Church

Organized in 1886, Evergreen Baptist Church, celebrated its 133rd anniversary on Sept. 22 this year. Name are of the first members are not available, but this soon after the Civil War, they doubtless were former slaves and their children.

Rena Blunt, grandmother of current pastor Elder Paul Jones, recorded in 2007 what she remembered of the history of Evergreen Baptist. She stated that the church “was founded by the Rev. Gales and Bro. Green Neeley. The first church was a small green church facing the railroad.”

She listed the following pastors: “Rev. Woody and Rev. Shephard; Rev. Brown, 1922-1966; Rev. Bell, 1967-1968; Rev. J. C. Evans, 1968-72; Thomas Jordan, 1973; B.J. Bedford, -1990; Jerry G. Bean 1990-2016; and Elder Paul Jones, 2016-present.”

Around 1922, Mrs. Blunt recalled, the church moved to U.S. 231 where today’s BP station stands. After I-59 was created, the church moved down to its present location on Sheffield Drive.

Elder Jones, said in an interview, “The church I remember was there by the interstate where the BP Service Station is now. It was a wooden church with tarpaper siding that looked like bricks. We had boards nailed between the trees for people to sit around and eat.” The other locations he’d been told of were the one by the railroad tracks and one on Highway 11, “but its name, Evergreen Baptist, never changed.”

Elder Jones spoke of his ministry: “God called me to preach. I was teaching Sunday school in another church, and then I would come over here. For some reason, the Spirit kept leading me back here, and the next thing I knew, God had planted Rhonda and me in this church family.”

The pastor of a small congregation has more responsibilities than the pastor of a larger church. Elder Jones plays the keyboard for the singing, conducts a Thursday evening Bible study, and heads up the Sunday school, also giving a weekly review of the lesson. “My plate’s pretty full,” he observes. First Lady Rhonda adds, “We often say we both wear three or four different hats. So, whatever is going on at any time, we do what is needed.” Picking up on that theme, Elder Jones mentioned the faithfulness of Pinkie Brewster and Effie Lee Brewster. “Others may have come and gone,” he said, “but over the years, those two have been steadfast supporters of Evergreen’s ministry…When God chooses you for a task,” Elder Jones testified, “you can’t quit. The love of God will not allow you to walk away from the souls you are over.”

When asked about his vision for the church, he replied, “It’s the Word of God. I must teach with knowledge and understanding. That’s the only way — His whole Word. I wouldn’t leave anything out.” He observed that some folk skip scriptures, but Elder Jones is fervent in preaching the whole Word. “Without a vision, the people perish,” he said.

Speaking of First Lady Rhonda Mabry Jones, his wife of 42 years, he reflects that her working for the Lord alongside him was vital to his preaching effectively.

Serving Evergreen today as Deacons are Sam Blunt, Allen Looney, Henry Blunt and two Junior Deacons, Denzell Williams and Damion Jones. Elder Jones remembered two deceased deacons saying, “Deacons Robert Brewster and Earnest Brewster contributed much to God’s work here and helped make Evergreen what it is today.”

The church continues to improve the facilities as God provides. “All races are welcomed to worship together.” Elder Jones concludes, “If you’re looking for a church, come worship with us.”

Whitney, Alabama, Memories

Two articles in The St. Clair News-Aegis, Dec. 7, 1975, and July 3, 1976, record some of Nettie Lou Sheffield’s Whitney memories.

Appointed postmaster Feb. 28, 1936, Nettie Sheffield retired in 1965, and her daughter, Wanda E. Shelton, was appointed acting postmaster July 31, 1965. Official Washington, DC, records list Wanda Shelton as the last postmaster, but she was not. In 1976, Nettie Sheffield told The New-Aegis that when Wanda died soon after appointment, “The postmaster at Ashville said, ‘Take over,’ and that’s what I done. I’ve been here ever since.” Whitney Post Office was “discontinued” on March 31, 1967, and converted to a rural station of Ashville.

 “There was four stores, a train depot, a honkytonk — started out as a cafe,” Nettie said in 1975. She then added a refrain probably heard since Noah had grandchildren, “but the young people hung around, and you know how they are. Well, pretty soon it was a honkytonk!” She noted that the other four stores were owned by the Montgomery, Beason, Rickles and Baggett families.

In the 1976 article, Nettie still ran the store in the building where she and her husband first opened for business in 1936. She was a month shy of 81 and still opening around 7 a.m. and closed at 4 p.m. “I figure nine hours a day is enough for anybody to work — especially if they’re as old as me,” she said.

Joe Sweatt

Having lived in Whitney all his life, Joe Sweatt has fond memories. He grew up in the family home just below where he and wife Helen live today

 Asked about his memories, he said, “I guess the fondest is living close to Muckelroy Creek. Harold Whisenant and I rode our bicycles all around here back then. We took some old burlap sacks and filled ‘em up with dirt off the creek bank and dammed up the creek. My daddy built us a diving board. It was the nicest swimming hole you’ve ever seen. People from Etowah County used to come and swim there. We’d go down there in the mornings and ride on inner tubes until the sun came up and it got warm enough that we could get in that cold creek water.”

Enjoying his memories, Sweatt continued. “We always tried to save up a little money so we could go down to Hershel Montgomery’s store down at the crossroads. A Coca-Cola was a nickel and a pack of chips — corn curls — was a nickel, and he’d charge us a penny tax. He’d fuss if we didn’t have that penny for the tax.”

Prison Camp

 “I remember my grandmother talking about the prison camp, Camp O, they called it, up where the nursing home is now. She used to tell me tales, about when they heard the hound dogs, they knew some prisoner had run. Even back then, they used tracking dogs.”

Wayne Ruple’s fine collection of interviews titled, Remembering Whitney, has several memories about the prison camp. O.J. Moore also remembered the bloodhounds tracking a convict, saying, “Those dogs would put him up a tree. He’d come on down and go back to camp.” Wade Partlow recalled, “The prisoners did all the local road work…They used some road machines — many pulled by horses and mules.”

Tiny McKay said, “You know Number 11 was built by convicts…. They used mules and flip scrapes…231 was built by convicts.”

The prison camp discontinued at some point, and on that property a Rhode Island couple, Pat and Carol Roberson, built the Motel Linda c1960. Jimmie Washington Keith lived in Springville and worked at the motel. She recalled that many of the I-59 workers found lodging at Motel Linda. It’s believed the business ceased operation toward the end of the 1960s.

When Motel Linda closed, Whitney Nursing Home began operation there in 1969. It had been reconstructed to meet the standards of that time. When present owner, Pam Penland, took over in 1982, it was an intermediate care facility. Today it is Health Care, Inc., and is licensed as a Medicare-Medicaid long-term nursing home. In Remembering Whitney, Wade Partlow recalled Hershel Montgomery’s store at the crossroads and that across US 231 from the store “…there was a service station…and a restaurant known as Ma Washington’s Restaurant.” In a recent interview, Mrs. Washington’s daughter, Jimmie Keith, supplied additional information. Ralph Windham owned the building where her mother, Ophelia Washington, ran the restaurant in one side, and Billy George Washington, Ophelia’s son, ran the service station in the other side. Jimmie’s nephew, Joe Cox, recalled that it was an Amoco Service Station. The service station and restaurant are gone, but on Hershel Montgomery’s corner, a store still serves Whitney Junction.

Whitney on National TV

A segment of Jack Bailey’s Queen for a Day TV show was filmed in Whitney in 1956. Mrs. Dorothy Brock, the sole provider for her family, won the title with her need to stock a small store located northeast of Reeves Grove Church near the crossroads. NBC cameramen filmed while Jack Bailey emceed and crowned Mrs. Brock as Queen.

Sen. E. L. Roberts attended and officially cut the ribbon for the grand opening of the store. The Etowah News-Journal, Sept. 13, 1956, reported that 3,000 “from many states” attended the event. Entertainment was provided as well as balloons, ice cream, soft drinks for all ages, and “500 orchids were given away to the first 500 ladies who registered.”

Viola Hyatt, Ax Murderer

Three years later, in 1959, the area again made newspaper and television headlines when Ax Murderess, Viola Hyatt, threw a torso off at a vacant house in Whitney.

Hyatt, who lived with her father in White Plains, Calhoun County, killed two of their farm workers with shotgun blasts to the face. She hacked up their bodies with an ax and scattered body parts on a road trip through Etowah and St. Clair counties.

Joe Sweatt remembered it: “We were swimming up there at the swimming hole one day, and my mother came up and said, ‘Get out; they’ve found a body up the road.’

About a quarter of a mile toward Steele from the crossroads, Viola Hyatt, the ax murderer, had dumped one of the bodies there. In those days, they didn’t secure the crime scene like they do today, and I remember we pulled off on the side of the road, and I remember looking up and seeing the body lying there.”

Fear gripped local folk and didn’t subside until Viola’s arrest. She went to trial, was convicted, and sent to prison. However, in 1970, she was granted parole. Jacksonville locals remember that she returned to the family farm and that she also ran a store in Rabbitown, and a retired Jacksonville State University professor recalled her taking classes there.

Miracle — perhaps

An article about a community should not end with a murder, so this ends with Wayne Tucker’s story of a mysteriously prevented tragedy.

“When I was a teenager,” Wayne recalled, “a Church of God minister who lived close to Whitney Junction told me and his son, my best friend, about an accident at the junction. That was a dangerous intersection before the interstate opened, as evidenced by the number of memorial crosses placed there. A bad accident happened, and several men tried to lift the car to get a man out. They couldn’t lift it. Suddenly, a big man appeared and helped lift up the car. By the time the rescuers attended to the crash victim, the big man was nowhere in sight — and nobody saw him leave.”

Just the extra man needed to lift the car or a miracle? Who can say? However, Tucker remembers the minister as a godly man who gave God the credit for the man’s rescue. A miracle is much better than a murder. Somebody say, “Amen!”

Watson-Byers Home

Built of tradition, family roots and love

Story by Joe Whitten

Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

Submitted Photos

The white column c. 1910-1911 Watson-Byers House rests on a grassy knoll in Odenville, gleaming in summer sun as lovely as a jeweled tiara resting on a green velvet cushion.

A St. Clair County vintage home, indeed, but for those nurtured by previous Watson parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, it is a house of unconditional love. Talk with any child, grandchild or cousin, and you hear only happy memories.

The original owner, William Clayton “Will” Watson, was born March 4, 1861, in White Plains, Benton, later Calhoun County, to William Alvin P. and Eliza Ann Hart Watson. Eliza’s father, Andrew Hart, ran Hart’s Ferry on the Coosa River, ferrying between St. Clair and Calhoun counties. The Harts owned and farmed the land where Andrew Jackson constructed Ft. Strother in 1813.

 William Alvin P. Watson died at Vicksburg in the Civil War. Widowed Eliza Ann Hart Watson married John Lonnergan in 1869. John and Eliza Lonnergan eventually owned the two-story double dog-trot log home built by John Looney in Beaver Valley. In a recent interview, Will’s grandson, Frank Watson, recounted that family oral history said that “Grandpa Will, when he was 18, rode the horse over to the Looney’s and bought the house for his mother, and then the Lonnergans moved in.” Frank added, “Now, I haven’t checked this out; that’s family lore.”

Will attended Southern Normal School and Business College in Bowling Green, Ky., graduating in 1887. Then, two years after graduating, he married Mentie Cox of Ashville on October 9, 1889. Will and Mentie lived in the Ragland area of St. Clair County, where Will at various times worked as postmaster at Lock Three and as a teacher. Grandson Frank treasures the school bell his grandfather used in his school.

Will and Mentie had a large family of 12 children and desired them to have the best education possible. Therefore, when Odenville was chosen as the location of St. Clair County High School, Will began planning to move his family from Ragland to Odenville.

“It was about 1909 or 1910 that Will bought the land here in Odenville … and they built the house and moved here in 1911,” Frank recalled. Saraharte Watson Byers’ notes indicate it was completed sometime in 1910.

“He cut all the timber over there where he lived and shipped it here by rail, and this house was built out of rough timber,” great-grandson Jimmy Byers added. One of Will and Mentie’s daughters died in 1908, and their last child was born in Odenville. Eleven of their 12 children attended St. Clair County High School. Daughter Roberta graduated in the second graduating class in 1913.

In a conversation with this writer many years ago, Saraharte Watson Byers recounted how that after the house was completed, Will shipped their furniture by rail from Ragland to Odenville. Then the family came by train to their new home and new town. Arriving at the Odenville depot, the Watsons got off the train and walked to their new home. Father led the way, mother behind him, and the children behind her from oldest to youngest and like a moving staircase marched up the road.

For many years, the Watson-Byers House has had the square columns on the front, but those were not on the house originally. Frank reminisced: “It originally had double porches, not columns. I remember when it got changed. Uncle Hop, Will’s son who lived in the house, got tired of that upper porch. It was before they had treated lumber, and he got tired of replacing it; so, they took the upper porch off and put the little portico up there and put up the columns. Originally, a long, wide pathway wound uphill to the porch and visitors always entered at the front door. But the house hasn’t been changed much inside. Maybe the only change in the old house is the kitchen windows. They are double now, and they were single back then.”

Inside the home, a central hall extends front to back with high-ceiling rooms on either side. Most visitors today enter at the kitchen, furnished with table and chairs of the period of the home. The cook-stove looks like a wood-burning stove from 1911 but really is an electric stove that Saraharte Watson Byers had shipped from Canada after she and Alvin became owners. She also installed hardwood floors in all the rooms except the dining room, which retains its original pine flooring, the standard flooring of that day.

The rooms are large as was the turn-of-the-century custom, with tongue-and-groove pine walls rising ten feet. Those tall ceilings made the rooms cooler in the summer, but they could also make for cold rooms in the winter. The house was originally gaslit from a Delco gas system from which gas was piped into the light fixtures. One gas-lamp globe survives in Frank’s possession.

 A stairway leads to the second floor where several newlyweds started their married lives —Saraharte and Alvin Byers, Jimmy and Karen Byers, Al and Donna Byers, as well as cousins lived up there.

Frank remembered that the garage and the men’s toilet were across today’s U.S. 174, which did not cut through the property until years after the house was built. The ladies’ toilet, however, was located on the hill behind the house.

Deeply rooted family tree

Frank was only five years old when his grandmother, Mentie, died in 1938 and barely remembers her. However, he recalls well his grandfather, Will. “Granddaddy loved to tell ghost stories to us grandkids, and he would frighten us all to death. He could tell good ones, and he had a knack of telling the punch lines. … He’d tell Civil War ghost stories about when they lived at Lock Three.

“After he came to Odenville, he was a merchant. But he went out of business during the Depression — let too much out on credit. In his later years, he would go down to the local store every day, and he would always carry his long umbrella. The guys teased him about that, and he’d say, ‘Pshaw! Pshaw! It might rain.’ But he was using it for a walking cane!”

Will died in 1950, and his funeral service was held at the house he’d built, just as Mentie’s had been in 1938. Both are buried at Liberty Cemetery, Odenville.

Will’s son, Hobson “Hop” Watson and wife Sally Robison Watson lived in the house with Will, caring for him until his passing. When he died, Hop and Sally became owners of the home and lived there with their daughter, Saraharte, called “Sade” by many friends. She grew up loving the old home, her family, Odenville and the people of the town. Saraharte graduated from St. Clair County High School in 1945. She attended the University of Alabama but earned her undergraduate and graduate degrees from Jacksonville State University. Later she earned her Ed.S. from the University of Alabama at Birmingham.

Saraharte Watson married Alvin Byers in 1947. Alvin had dropped out of school in 1944, his senior year, to fight in World War II. When the war ended, he returned to St. Clair County High School and graduated in 1946. Alvin attended JSU and earned a degree in education.

The Byers had three children. Jimmy married Karen Turner, and they have three children Matthew, Adam and Joshua. Al married Donna Colley and they have three children, Rodney, Jeremy and Zeke. Lynn married Jed Brantley and they have two children, Jacob and Rachel. Alvin loved sports and all three children got involved in sports. Lynn could play as well as her brothers. Her comment was, “He taught me to play anything that had a ball in it!”

Both Saraharte and Alvin had careers as teachers in Odenville. Alvin taught various subjects and coached various sports and is well-remembered for his baseball teams and both boys’ and girls’ basketball teams. Both teams went to state playoffs at various times. Saraharte taught elementary grades and retired as head of the elementary school.

Hop and Sally Watson lived in the house until their deaths. Saraharte and Alvin became owners at Sally’s passing. Then Alvin died in 2001 and Saraharte in 2003. After her death, great-grandson Jimmy Byers and wife Karen became owners/caretakers of the lovely old home.

The first thing Jimmy and Karen had to face was the bat infestation in part of the house. And not just any bat, but the protected brown bat, requiring that they be relocated. Only a wildlife relocator could do this. Jimmy located one of American Indian lineage who successfully got them out of the house and relocated. “We probably had a thousand bats,” Jimmy said. “The porch ceiling was sagging from guano. We had to redo the ceiling on the porch and redo two walls in the living room.”

When talking with Jimmy and Karen, their son Matt, and Jimmy’s first cousin, Judy Gibson Banks, one hears memories of loving parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles spilling out as refreshing as a fire hydrant at full flow on an Alabama summer day — memories of a house full of loving kindness.

Jimmy lived his first three years in this house, for Saraharte and Alvin lived upstairs in the house until they could build a home in Moody. Karen commented, “They brought Jimmy home from Leeds Hospital to the Watson House. Saraharte talked about having the heater upstairs and how they had to keep it warm for Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s face broke into a wide smile when this interviewer asked about his memories of his Granddaddy Hop and Grandmother Sally. He chuckled as he began. “Granddaddy was my buddy. I loved him with all I could love anybody. When I was a little fellow, I guess it was in ’54, Granddaddy bought a Shetland pony. We took the back seat out of the car, and we brought the pony home in the car. We named him Buckshot and he actually lived to be 34 years old.

“Later we had horses, but we had Buckshot before we had anything else. And because me and my brother Al were just kids and weren’t good with the reins yet, so Granddaddy would lead us all over the pasture — us on Buckshot.”

When Jimmy paused to reflect, Karen added, “Jimmy talked about Granddaddy riding him and Al around the pasture; well, he did the same thing with our boys. He would sit them on the pony and ride them around the pasture and they loved it. Our boys loved their Grandmother and Granddaddy Watson.”

“This happened later,” Jimmy continued, “but Granddaddy was — how can I put this — was feeling pretty good one day, and he brought Buckshot up the steps and into the living room and Buckshot messed in the floor. Needless to say, Grandmother put him and Buckshot back out of the house!”

Judy Gibson Banks and her sister Wanda grew up in the Byers’ home under the guardianship of their Uncle Alvin and Saraharte. Hop and Sally happily added them as grandchildren. Judy lovingly remembered “Grandmother and Granddaddy” and the good times she had at their house on the hill. “The horses were up there at the Watson House. Wanda and I started working with the horses, and we rode horses all over that hill. But Granddaddy would worry about us, so when we were riding — no matter where we were on that place — we could look up and Granddaddy would be somewhere on that hill watching to make sure we were OK.”

Hop and Sally loved their grandchildren and the grandchildren’s love for them comes shimmering through in interviews. Karen commented, “Hop and Sally, were two of the most giving people you would ever meet. She welcomed everybody into this house. The football team — Jimmy and Al would bring folks home, and some of ‘em stayed. She was so good about that. Always had food for them, cooked for them.” 

On the way to school each morning, Sade would drive her family to school, stopping at Sally’s to check on her. Every afternoon they would stop by again. A fond memory that lingers is how almost every afternoon Grandmother Sally would have divinity, or pound cake, or some snack for the grandkids after a long school day.

When Jimmy started college in Jacksonville, he recalls that when he and David Veasey commuted together, “I’d pick up David in Moody and then we’d come by here every Sunday evening when we headed to Jacksonville. And she’d fix us snacks for the week and feed us before we started up there.”

Legendary fried chicken and more

Sally’s cooking was legendary in the family. Jimmy remembered, “Every weekend we ate up here at Grandma’s house. And on Sunday — she had the best fried chicken you ever would eat. In all my life, I’ve never tasted any as good as hers.” He said that eating at Grandma’s on Christmas was like eating at a cafeteria she had so many dishes. “She was a diabetic,” Jimmy noted, “but she cooked it all!”

Jimmy’s sister, Lynn, joined the dinner-memory choir, saying, “Sunday dinner at Grandmother’s was amazing. She made the best fried chicken around.”

Lynn also spoke of her love for Granddaddy Hop. “I loved just spending quality time with my Granddaddy. He was one amazing man. I loved listening to all the stories Granddaddy would tell us.”

Another occasion for family meals occurred Easter Sunday. The family would attend church and then to Grandmother and Granddaddy’s house for a big meal — and of course it included Sally’s fried chicken! After lunch, the kids hunted Easter eggs hidden over the hilltop.

The family enjoyed telling about Hop’s pipe and Sally’s cigarettes. “Granddaddy smoked Prince Albert tobacco in his pipe,” Jimmy related, “and Grandmother smoked cigarettes. Well, she got tired of buying rolled cigarettes, so she used a brown paper bag. She would cut the paper bag up and roll her cigarettes using Granddaddy’s Prince Albert tobacco and smoke those brown sack cigarettes.” Sally bought cigarettes only when they visited relatives.

Sally did all the driving, for Hop never drove a car. The grandchildren told how when school was out in the spring, Sally would load the family in her car to visit relatives in various towns in north-central Alabama. “Granddaddy always went with us, but he had little patience with visits and was ready to leave soon after arriving,” Jimmy remembered.

Although Hop never drove an automobile, in his later years, he bought a riding lawnmower and had a good time riding it all over the home-place hill. Today, where he had such a good time, his descendants had enjoyed festive occasions. In the past several years, the hilltop has been used for wedding events.

Quiet home weddings have occurred in the home, including Donna Colley and Al Byers and Judy Gibson and Curtis Banks. However, Jimmy and Karen, wanting family members to continue enjoying the old home place, have hosted the garden weddings and receptions for family members. The first one of these was for Lynn and Jed’s daughter, Rachael. The ceremony took place on the wide front porch with guests sitting in chairs set up on the lawn. A white tent in the back, where Hop drove his lawnmower, served for the reception and dancing with a live band.

 One can hope that Hop and Sally and Sade and Alvin (should he be interested), somehow get a glimpse of those festive events at their well-loved old home.

Great grandchildren also have delightful memories of Hop and Sally Watson. Matt Byers in a college essay wrote this:

“The greatest man I ever knew was Hop Watson, my great-grandfather. … No child could have known a more caring, loving and understanding human being.  … I remember the look in his eye when his ‘little man’ would do something he’d taught him and do it right! From riding mop ponies to real ponies, I learned it all from him. He taught me so many things about life, the land, and most importantly, about love. … When my brother, Adam, came along, I had to share my granddaddy. That was tough for me, but I managed. … With the help of our granddaddy, we thought we could do anything. He loved us dearly and we loved him. After Granddaddy passed on, I made a promise to myself to let everyone I cared about know it. … I still think about him today. His influence over my life is still prominent and I owe him a lot. I just wish that I’d told him how much I loved him. So, to ‘the greatest man I ever knew,’ I love you.”

In a recent conversation, Matt joined the “Hallelujah Chorus” of Sunday dinner at “Nana’s and Granddaddy’s house. My great-grandmother fried chicken like nobody else. Her recipe, which to my knowledge has not been matched in St. Clair County, drew people from miles around. Everyone wanted some of that delicious, crispy-hot poultry. Granddaddy Watson had fresh corn and other vegetables to go with it. And if it was July, you could thump the watermelons and enjoy something delightful. Those were the days!”

A Christmas tradition

Shawn Banks, Judy and Curtis’ son, remembered Christmas time. “Some of my happiest memories are of Christmas at Granddaddy and Nana Watson’s home. Each year, a week or two before Christmas, Granddaddy would gather the grandchildren and set out to find the ideal tree. After traipsing down the hill, across the highway, through the woods along the creek, we would find our tree.

“When the tree was in place, everyone would gather in the living room to decorate our prize. We hung the stockings and … when the decorating was finished, Nana would say, ‘Isn’t that pretty?’ My favorite time was topping the tree with the star. Not an elaborate star; just a simple one that Granddaddy had made of cardboard and covered with tinfoil. Each year, a different grandchild got to put the star on the tree. It was an exciting time when my turn came around.”

To Shawn, the memory of that homemade Christmas star is “…a spark of inspiration. A little spark that could relight the ashes of burnout, until we spring forth like the Phoenix, finding a new zest and appreciation for family and happy memories.” Today, the cherished star radiates memories throughout the year from its protected place in a curio cabinet.

Sally and Hop were icons in Odenville, as were Sade and Alvin. Their many years of teaching in the elementary and high school bring fond memories to Odenvillians, many now in the senior citizen years.

Ode to Sade

Sade’s students undoubtedly remember her love for Alabama and Odenville history. She diligently collected local history and shared it with her students. When an Odenville history project was under way, she tracked down vintage photographs and located individuals who could contribute to the needed information. She was a cheerleader for Odenville.

Family members agree that Sade was the “Rock of Gibraltar” of the family and her heart was full of love for family and friend. Karen recalled Sade’s love for people and how she wanted everybody welcomed who came to the house, making sure that each had been introduced around to the others. Having grown up in a loving home, Sade knew how to love generously. That is a beautiful legacy expressed by her poet grandson, Matt Byers.

“Sade”

The picture of what love should be

Was seen upon her face.

The matron of our family

Displayed her love with grace:

Examples of how we should live

In order to bear fruit —

Examples of the way

To give to others as our root —

For Sade was more than we could see,

A wife, a mom, a saint.

A Mimi’s grandiosity

Whose ways were calm and quaint.

She cared for all as if her own

And never so for gain.

Her seeds of love were aptly sown,

Forever to remain.

Some sunny day, should you drive by this lovely home, think on this:  Happy memories are built on love, and love endures long after a dear one has left us behind. Such is the history of the Watson and Byers families.

Gee’s Bend in St. Clair

Quilts and quilters have compelling stories to tell

Story by Joe Whitten
Photos by Susan Wall
Submitted Photos

Gee’s Bend quilts, vibrant and spontaneous, have been exhibited and written about around the world, but for Claudia Pettway Charley, born in Gee’s Bend and now living in Pell City, quilts have been an everyday fact of life.

She grew up nurtured by the women whose quilts would one day be showcased in museums across the globe. It was a legacy, an art learned from her mother, Tinnie Pettway; her grandmother, Malissia Pettway; her aunt, Minnie Pettway; and other quilters of the close-knit community.

Sewn by descendants of slaves from a plantation on the Alabama River, these quilts have made Gee’s Bend and the quilters internationally famous.

From The Times of London — “The women of Gee’s Bend … have shattered artistic boundaries. Their bold, vibrant designs are as radically different from orthodox quilt patterns as Picasso was from anyone who preceded him.”

From The New York Times —  “What makes this (Gee’s Bend) tradition so compelling is that unlike most quilts in the European-American tradition, which favor uniformity, harmony and precision, Gee’s Bend quilts include wild, improvisatory elements: broken patterns, high color contrasts, dissonance, asymmetry and syncopation. …”

Quilting originated in the Orient as padded garments, then made its way to Europe by way of returning 13th century crusaders, and eventually evolved into bedding.

Quilts came to the New World with the first settlers and were necessary in the home well into the 20th century.

In the second half of the 20th century, there burst upon both the quilting world and the art world the phenomena of Gee’s Bend quilts. In 2018 the Bend’s quilts again came to prominence through the official portrait of former First Lady Michelle Obama painted by Amy Sherald of Baltimore. Mrs. Obama’s portrait gown features quilt blocks associated with Gee’s Bend quilts. In 2018, Sherald visited Gee’s Bend quilters and had a grand time in Tinnie Pettway’s home hearing stories from the past told by Tinnie and her sister Minnie.

Gee’s Bend quilter and entrepreneur, Claudia Pettway Charley, is partner in the family-owned business and currently owns the registered trademark for that business, That’s Sew Gee’s Bend. In a recent interview at the Pell City Library, among an array of her quilts as well as her mother’s, she talked about her process of making a quilt. “Everything comes from the head and the heart — what the feeling is at that moment, that time when you put a piece together. No patterns, nothing like that.”

The fascination and beauty of a Gee’s Bend quilt is its spontaneity. Each quilt is a serendipity of seemingly haphazard colors and shapes that harmonize into a thing of beauty which sings to the observer’s soul.

A New York Times reporter wrote that the earliest Bend quilts “…came into being alongside gospel, blues, ragtime and jazz,” an era when strict rules of music composition were tossed aside. Think of trumpeter Louie Armstrong or pianist Thelonious Monk departing from the written notes and improvising his mood of the moment into improvisations.

Now look at a Gee’s Bend quilt and realize the placement of color, fabric texture and shape speak a language of mood or emotion, unhampered by strict adherence to geometrical pattern and form. The green-bordered Double Glory quilt by Tinnie Pettway (Claudia’s mother) is as lively as New Orleans jazz vibrating the night.

Claudia acknowledged her quilts to be both improvisational and abstract — each quilt “is true to itself,” she said.

When asked her thoughts when beginning a new quilt, Claudia replied: “It could be your mood at that particular time; the weather; how you are feeling. If you’re feeling excited and happy, you may choose a lot of bright (colors) for the piece — I’m speaking of myself now. You just kind of know the direction you want the piece to go. It’s not just one thing; it could be a multitude of things that would make you choose certain fabrics and colors.”

Tinnie Pettway’s thoughts on starting a quilt correspond with her daughter’s. “Fabric is not the problem,” she said. “My problem is the design — and I have no special design (in mind) when I’m making a quilt. I think of how I want it, and sometimes that don’t work out, and I just let that go. I take a portion of the quilt, and I lay it out on the floor, and I look at it. I turn it around, and whatever looks the best to me when I place it together, then that’s the way I sew it.” Her yellow-bordered Multi Block Crossroads quilt is a striking example of how successfully she works this technique.

The Bend quilters do have “traditional patterns,” Tinnie said; “…things like Grandma’s Dream, Nine Patch, String, or the one we call House Top — those are regular quilts that everybody makes. But I have no particular pattern. I just sew pieces together. If they look good, I sew the pieces together.

“And everybody who sees one (of our quilts) knows that that’s a Gee’s Bend quilt. It’s put together just as our mind tells us — most time with no set form and no set pattern. That’s how we do it.”

How did they get here from there?

To understand Gee’s Bend quilts, you need to answer the question, “How did Gee’s Bend quilts originate?” To answer that, you must know some of the history of this particular bend in the Alabama River. And to appreciate the abstract beauty of the quilts, you must understand the pervasive tension between despair and hope in their lives.

Joseph Gee, from North Carolina, settled in the Bend around 1816 and established a plantation in the rich, fertile river-bottom land. According to Harvey H. Jackson II in his Rivers of History: Life on the Coosa, Tallapoosa, Cahaba, and Alabama, Joseph died in 1824 and left the plantation and 47 slaves to his nephews still living in the east. One nephew, Charles Gee, moved to Alabama and ran the plantation until the 1840s. At that time, to settle a debt, Charles and his brother deeded everything to Mark H. Pettway. In 1846, Pettway and family with more than a hundred slaves made the journey through the Carolinas and Georgia and into what by then was called Gee’s Bend, Alabama.

Pettway brought change. Jackson writes, “… His slaves cleared more land, planted more cotton and built their master a ‘big house,’ which he named Sandy Hill. Gee’s Bend became, according to one student of the region (Nancy Callahan), ‘a dukedom in the vast Southern cotton empire,’ and there Pettway lived in splendid isolation. Deep in the heart of a bulb-shaped peninsula, almost entirely surrounded by the river, Mark Pettway was free to do whatever he wished, and he did.”

When emancipation freed the slaves, they all took the Pettway surname whether blood-related or not, and all stayed on the Pettway plantation, working as sharecroppers and tenant farmers. In 1895, Pettway sold the land to Adrian Sebastian Van De Graff, a Tuscaloosa attorney who ran the farm as an absentee landowner.

By the 1920s, Gee’s Bend was an isolated African-American community. Farmers sold their cotton to a merchant in Camden. The price of cotton dropped in the late 1920s, and without telling the farmers, the merchant held the cotton hoping the price would go up in a few years. All the while, he kept account of what they bought, to be paid for when the cotton sold.

The price of cotton did not go up before he died. His heirs saw only what the farmers owed — and the farmers’ held cotton had “disappeared.”

In 1932, the merchant’s heirs sent men to Gee’s Bend to collect. And collect they did, taking everything — household goods, cows, mules, pigs, seed for next-year’s planting. The pillaging left the people destitute.

Jackson quotes a Christian Century article by Rev. Renwick C. Kennedy, “In October and November, 68 families, 368 people, were ‘broken up’ or ‘closed out’ — Alabama phrases that described both a physical condition and a psychological state.”

The stricken people faced the winter with the real prospect of starvation. Jackson writes that they survived through the help of both the Red Cross and a compassionate Wilcox County plantation owner who provided assistance with cornmeal and food.

From this poverty came the quilters thrift of salvaging still usable portions of worn-out overalls and clothing to make cover to pile on beds for warmth in an unheated, cardboard-thin house. These quilts are documented in Gee’s Bend: The Women and their Quilts and The Quilts of Gee’s Bend.

Tinnie Pettway commented about this use of worn-out clothing, saying, “…In those old quilts, to have a different color…they would rip seams (of overalls), and where the seams had been folded, (it was) still holding its color. They’d sew it together.” This gave them shades of blue in the pieces.

She also told of the competition between the quilters. “They wanted to see which one could make the best quilt — even out of those ragged pieces they had. In spite of the lack of material, they used whatever they could find.” Tinnie and her sister, Minnie, made the quilt, Robust, of worn overall denim scraps. Note the splash of red in the lower right — a counterpoint of hope in a field of lonesome blue.

Claudia was asked, “Do you think any of the quilts reflected the distress of what the people were going through?”

She responded thoughtfully, “It’s possible. (When) you look at some of the old quilts and what they used for material — croaker sacks … overalls. … I think it was according to the attitude of the time, … using what they had available. They said to themselves, ‘We’re gonna survive regardless of what anyone says or what anyone does.’

“You know, growing up in the country like that, it makes you a survivor. Gee’s Bend was like a forgotten community — totally. So, we depended on each other. We depended on the farming, eating off the land, doing anything we could do at that time for survival. And it makes today seem simple.”

In Claudia’s quilt, Crimson Blues, she has created a sense of tension in the shapes and placement of red, blue and black pieces. The themes of despair and hope seem to throb through Gee’s Bend quilters’ blood and come to life in their quilts.

Drive for more than quilt-making

Not only was there a determination to survive physically, but there was also the struggle for basic citizen’s rights, such as the right to vote.

Tinnie Pettway remembers that well. “I went over to register to vote, and they put me in a little room in the courthouse. It just had one door. Finally, it got dark, and I looked up, and there was these three men standing right in the door looking at me. I just looked at them, and they backed out. I don’t know why they was looking at me, trying to frighten me or not. I don’t know. But they backed out, and finally I was able to register to vote. They sent me my card saying that I qualified.”

Claudia’s aunt, Minnie Pettway, recalled the same intimidation and that the officials threw away her first registration forms. “Threw them in the garbage!” But she kept trying. “A lot of people wouldn’t go. I guess they were somewhat afraid, but my daddy wasn’t afraid of nothing, so I just went along with him.” Finally, as a result of a court hearing in Selma, Minnie was a registered voter. “When we were declared registered voters, whenever there was an election, we went to the polls and voted.”

Tinnie, Minnie, and others from Gee’s Bend marched in Camden, the county seat for the right to vote. “Most of the people who was marching was not the educated people … many of them were afraid to march. They were afraid of their jobs — that they would lose their jobs,” Minnie remembered. “My daddy (Eddie Pettway Sr.), used to get truckloads of people and take them to Camden to register to vote, and they would put them all in jail. Then a day or two later, my daddy would go back with his truck and try to bond them out of jail. … Daddy went to get them, but they would go back a day or two later protesting again.”

Eddie Pettway Sr., who was Claudia’s grandfather, marched at Edmund Pettus Bridge with others from Gee’s Bend. “They ran over them with horses,” Minnie recalled, “and would spray them with tear gas. My daddy would drag the ladies out of the area where the tear gas was strong.”

The determination to keep on until rights were won seems to be sewn in Tinnie’s Gee’s Bend Geometric Trails quilt of multi-colored panels bordered by panels of red and gray — no curves in these trails, they lead straight ahead to the goal.

When asked if the young folk today realized the struggles of their grandparents, she replied, “They don’t, really. My grandkids, Claudia’s kids, they enjoy listening to the stories, but they just can’t imagine going through that.”

Not only could the younger generation not comprehend what the struggle had been, but neither could the crowds at the museums when Gee’s Bend quilters appeared at exhibits.

The women traveled from museum to museum for each exhibit of their “works of art” in galleries across the USA. “We would talk,” Tinnie remembered, “and tell the people how it was coming up in Gee’s Bend and the struggle we had here. … What we were telling (about our lives) was unimaginable (to them).

“When our bus would come in (to a museum), they’d be standing out like the president was coming. And they would just hug us, and some of ‘em were crying, and I thought, ‘My God, these are just quilts!’ … We had lived with these quilts a lifetime. They wasn’t art to us as (they were) to the people we were taking them to.

“It was almost unbelievable,” she remembered. “That’s when I had my first flight — to a museum in California. That’s the first time I got on a plane, and I’m telling you, that was something. I was kind of afraid when I got on there, but once that plane took off, I thought, ‘Well, I might as well settle down, cause I’m up here now, and they’re not gonna take me back.’”

She chuckled at the memory and continued. “It was joyous time. I had my first time to eat goat cheese on one of those trips. … A lot of those quilters didn’t like that goat cheese, but I liked that goat cheese, and I’d say, well give me your goat cheese!”

Claudia’s wish is that upcoming generations will find hope and success because of  the struggles of the past and that they will continue the quilting heritage of Gee’s Bend. “We don’t want it to become a dying art. We want to continue to keep the quilting in the forefront of not just artists but quilters and everyday people. We (quilters) have to find like-minded people to know where that place is, and from there it grows.”

She is hopeful that soon, innovative and spontaneous quilting will take root in Pell City and St. Clair County.

Remembrance of past, hope for future

In their interviews, both Claudia and her Mom talked about Gee’s Bend’s isolation, poverty, struggle for survival, and the progress that had been made by the community’s determination and resourcefulness.

“Things are much better now,” Tinnie said. “Education is much better. We’ve got some very good kids that have grown up here — doctors, lawyers, nurses — that came from Gee’s Bend in spite of its beginnings.”

The post-slavery trials and tribulations of our African-American citizens in Wilcox County’s Gee’s Bend, with its injustice and inhumanity, echo in all of Alabama’s counties. A little delving into St. Clair County’s 19th Century estate records expose that inhumanity. However, the subtlety of injustice lies in the fact that it may fall upon anyone, regardless of race, color or belief.

But like those brilliant colors splashing through Gee’s Bend quilts, hope brightens the future. And this must be a determined hope for all.

Tinnie expressed it this way in a poem:

I’m not giving up in this life
Although there may be some strife
It may be sometime I have to wait
I know it’s never too late.

From this life I won’t retire
To be productive is a lifelong desire
I’ll go on, no, I won’t die
A new lease of life I have acquired

I feel now I’m more blessed
And I truly know I fear less
I also know I have to press
I want what I want and won’t settle for less

I will achieve, I see my goals
I won’t stop, no I won’t fold
Through the wind storm, rain or cold
To my faith and His hand I’ll continue to hold.

In this poem, Determined, from her book, Gee’s Bend Experience, Tinnie expresses hope, faith and determination. And in her quilts and daughter Claudia’s quilts, the careful observer can hear those three harmonies swirling in a crescendo of cloth and color to proclaim to the world Hallelujah! Amen! l

Mt. Zion Baptist Church

Two churches, a single purpose

Story by Joe Whitten
Photos by Michael Callahan
Submitted photos

Mt. Zion Baptist Church, a church started by freed slaves in Springville, exists today because in 1816 a North Carolina minister grew discouraged in the ministry and resolved to abandon preaching. Leaving preaching and North Carolina behind, Rev. Sion Blythe moved his family to what would become St. Clair County, Alabama, and settled along Canoe Creek.

Published writings referred to Blythe as “the reluctant preacher.” Born in Tennessee in 1781 and ordained as a minister in North Carolina, Blythe organized and pastored churches in Buncombe County, North Carolina.

When Blythe and family left North Carolina and headed west, he instructed his wife to tell no one that he had preached. No written record states exactly why he had become so disheartened; however, his friend and Alabama Baptist historian, Hossa Holcombe, hinted that the problem was a theological difference with North Carolina pastors concerning man’s free will.

But Pastor Blythe’s free will choice to stop preaching was over-willed by his integrity when in late 1816 or early 1817, a woman in the area where he had settled asked him point blank if he were not a minister of the Gospel.

Blythe wouldn’t lie to her, and when he admitted that he had preached, Holcomb records, “The old lady leaped, and shouted, and praised God that she had found a preacher in the wilderness.” At her urging, Blythe agreed to organize a congregation, and on March 22, 1817, in the settlement called Big Springs, a Baptist church was established and named Mt. Zion. The name referencing verse in Hebrews 12:22, “Ye are come into Mount Zion and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem …” and reminding them of their goal, Heaven, the city of God.

Until the end of the Civil War, both slave and master worshiped together — but separate — at Mt. Zion, for as Margaret Windham records in her History of Springville the “…slaves had seats in the rear of the church building and, like their masters, were members of the church.”

One wonders about the names of those slave members, but we have scant information. The oldest minutes of Mt. Zion fell victim to fire when the home where they were kept burned. Because Martha Terry Roberts had copied portions of the old minutes that mention slave names, we have some, as quoted here:

  • April Term, 1821—Received Brother James, a black man, by letter.
  • May Term, 1823—Received by experience, Littie, a black woman, and Lisha More and also Pike.
  • August Term, 1823—Received by experience, Sook, a black woman.
  • June Term, 1831—A charge against Fanny, a black sister, for having two living husbands. Case taken up and Fanny restored to her seat as usual.
  • October, 1844—Sister Jane, Nancy, Elizabeth, and Margaret (blacks) dismissed by letter.
  • September, 1854—James Thomason called for a letter of dismissal, and for four of his blacks: Alfred, Clark, Doctor, and Reny. Granted.

Sister Fanny’s case in June, 1831, is of special interest. This writer became acquainted with slave wedding vows several years ago when touring Rose Hill Mansion near Hilton Head, South Carolina. The guide, a descendant of the builder of Rose Hill, told that slave wedding vows had these words, “Till death or distance do us part”—meaning that if one partner in the marriage were sold, the wedding vows were dissolved. Ordained ministers rarely performed slave weddings, which were never legally binding, and he couldn’t have them say “Till death do us part,” due to their circumstances.

Usually a slave couple wanting to marry might have a ceremony in the slave quarters, but most often, the couple would simply “Jump over the broom,” and they were married. An online article published by the Caswell County, North Carolina, Historical Society discusses the jumping over the broom and also white ministers’ use of “Till death or distance do us part” in Antebellum slave weddings.

The fact that in the same June meeting Fanny was restored to her seat in the church fellowship makes this writer believe that this was Sister Fanny’s reason for having two living husbands and the church sympathized with her.

The expression “received by experience” means the candidate for membership had recently come to an experience of salvation. To be dismissed by letter means to be dismissed in good standing to another church.

From those minutes we learn the first names of several slaves and the name of one of the slave owners, James Thomason. Although it is meager, these nuggets of information can assist slave descendants in genealogical research.

 

Changing times

In time, some stout-hearted people of the United States began to take note of the injustice of slavery, and a distant rumble began to arise, like far-away thunder forewarning an approaching storm. The rumble grew until in 1861, it roared into a storm of civil war, which by 1865 had wreaked ruin on much of the nation and unshackled slaves and set them free.

But being declared free and grasping the reality of freedom are two concepts not comprehended quickly. Former slaves, now free to congregate and worship together, continued to meet with Mt. Zion until 1868.

According to oral history, in 1868 the freed slaves of Springville began meeting on their own to worship God. No written record seems to exist for this group of believers prior to 1883, the year they joined Wills Creek Baptist Association in Etowah County.

For white Mt. Zion, the war years took its toll on church membership through battlefield casualties and through the emancipation of slaves. Mrs. Windom records that by 1870 the membership of Mt. Zion had dwindled to 70. That congregation decided to construct a more modern sanctuary that might encourage more people to worship with them. They began meeting in the new building in 1871. In that same year, Mt. Zion changed its name to Springville Baptist. With a new building, it probably seemed to them a good idea to identify the church with Springville.

Oral history doesn’t record just when the freed slaves began calling their group Mt. Zion. However, in their History of Springville, Alabama, Donna Cole and Virginia Taylor wrote, “After the war, the Black congregation left to form their own church and they kept the original Mt. Zion name.” It’s possible that two Mt. Zion Baptist Churches existed for a while in Springville.

The name became official in 1883. The Tenth Annual Session of the Wills Creek Baptist Association met at the Ashville Mt. Zion Church in August 1883, and the minutes record: “Received Mt. Zion Baptist Church of Springville, on the AGSRR [Alabama Great Southern Rail Road], as a newly constituted church — delegates, Elder L.C. Thornton, R. Pruet. Sent for missions, 50 cents; minutes, $1.00.”

Other Wills Creek Association minutes give more Mt. Zion facts:

  • 1888, meeting at the Cedar Bluff , R.H. Vogal, Pastor; Emma Galbreth, Clerk; and 71 members.
  • 1892, meeting at Mt. Zion, Ashville, J.H. Kerley, Pastor; J.H. Hudson, Clerk.
  • 1896, meeting at Lebanon Baptist, C.C. Curry, Pastor; F. Thaxton, Clerk, and 45 members.
  • 1897, meeting at Mt. Zion, Springville, C.C. Curry, Pastor; L. Byers, Clerk; 53 members.

Building a church

The first church building was constructed on the same property where the Mt. Zion church stands today. We don’t know the date of that construction, but the minutes of 1896 report the value of Mt. Zion’s church property as $1,000. That value in 1896 probably included a building.

Deacon Mitchell Hammonds recalled the church building, for he attended there as he grew up. “The church, when I was born, was a wooden building. It had two bell towers. It had a bell in one. It had two front doors and had three rows of pews. That old building had, of course, the big pot-belly heater.” That church was taken down and replaced with the present structure around 1976.

On sun-lit days, light streaming through the “Life of Christ” stained-glass windows bejewels the sanctuary. The vintage stained-glass cross window gracing the front of the church was donated to Mt. Zion by First Baptist Church of Springville.

Estell Long, who was born in 1936 and grew up in the church, fondly remembers the bell ringing. “You had a rope up there. … Will Woods would go early Sunday morning and pull the rope and the bell would tone.”

She recalled that during revivals the seats at the front of the church were reserved for those who wanted to be baptized and join the church. At the end of the week, the church would have a baptism at Lee Laster’s Creek. Mitchell Hammonds recalled that he was baptized in the Cahaba in Trussville. Later, the church was able to build an outside baptistry on site.

Mrs. Long reminisced about the singing in the church. “They had people in the choir, and they sang the old-fashioned songs. Mattie Kelly was the pianist. She would play the piano, and they would sing. When she finished, she would always shout. She was one of the shouting sisters in church.” Another pianist was Mattie Jo Williams Herring.

Some of the choir members Mrs. Long remembered are Sarah Frances Newsome, Velma Eleanor Newsome, Casey Lewis, Elizabeth Shepherd, Ruth Pulliam, Katherine Newsome, Margaret Hammonds Woods, Leola Pulliam Herring, Josephine Pulliam Herring and Nellie Mae Newsome Boyd.

Nellie Mae Newsome Boyd also served as a missionary to other churches in the surrounding area — Attalla, Ashville and Branchville. She would take reports from church to church so they could know the work of sister churches in the region. On these visits, she could share needs from the churches in her circle of ministry.

The young people of the church weren’t neglected. In the 1940s and 50s, Mary Bradford instructed the youths of Mt. Zion in the Baptist Young People’s Union – BYPU. Part of her teaching was having them memorize different Scripture passages, such as the Twenty-third Psalm. She assigned the passage at one meeting, and at the next meeting she expected each one to quote the passage from memory. Miss Bradford made sure each had memorized the Scripture.

Harvey Lovell Newsome served as Sunday School Superintendent in the 1940s and 1950s, and after Mr. Newsome, Sammy Kelly served as Superintendent.

Mrs. Long and Mr. Hammonds recalled the following men who served Mt. Zion as deacons: Sammy Kelly, Henry Beaman, Brook Toles, Bob Woody, Milton Herring and Willie LaShore.

 

Present day Mt. Zion

At present, active deacons are Mitchell Hammond, Henry Wright and Willie Jones Sr. These deacons minister to the church and community. One way is the Brotherhood Breakfast that meets on the first Saturday of each month. This interracial meeting begins with fellowship and breakfast. Henry Wright is credited with organizing this monthly event, with the purpose of encouraging each other in Christian faith, the preferred devotional topic for each speaker is “Why are you a Christian and what is in it for you?”

Yearly events at Mt. Zion include the National Day of Prayer, summer revivals and Youth Month in June, which includes a youth revival. Each February, the young people learn of African-American history on Wednesday nights. A favorite summer event has been the church trip to Lake Winnepesaukah in Chattanooga for a day of fun and relaxation.

 

Pastoring Mt. Zion

Mt. Zion has an incomplete list of former pastors. A careful research of the Wills Creek Baptist Association’s minutes could perhaps furnish a complete listing. Nineteenth Century pastors include L.C. Thornton, 1883; R.H. Vogal, 1888; J.H. Kerley, 1892; and G.W. Burton, 1896-1897. The church also has names of 15 pastors since 1901. Pastors since1937 include W.R. Simpson; T.C. Williams; I.H. Henderson; Joseph Jackson; and currently, Larry Adams.

Adams has pastored Mt. Zion since 2011. During his seven years shepherding the flock, he has seen spiritual growth in his congregation. His preaching emphasis is the whole Word of God, preaching it in context. He recently said, “We don’t skip anything. Even in our Bible study, we go verse by verse.” Pastor Adams, a bi-vocational pastor, is sometimes out for a Wednesday evening Bible study. Therefore, he makes sure he and the one teaching for him are together. “Right now,” he said, “we’re studying the book of Hebrews on Wednesday night. And if some of my other ministers are doing the teaching, I give them an outline of what we’re teaching, and we follow that outline. We have everybody together. They ask questions, and I get excited about teaching the Bible. And I say, ‘We’re gonna teach the whole Bible,’ and I have.”

Pastor Adams gets enthusiastic telling about the church and its ministries. The Children’s Church involves a wide range of ages — first-grade through 12th. The older group mentors the younger ones as a part of the Youth Ministry.

The church’s music ministry consists of Men’s Choir, Women’s Choir and Youth Choir. The Mass Choir combines the Men’s Choir and the Women’s Choir together for a service. The organ, keyboard and drums accompany the singing.

 

History within history

A current need for the church is a larger building with classrooms and a fellowship hall. The congregation has discussed this need and is working toward the goal. One discussion point is whether to build where the church now stands or to build on the church-owned lot diagonally across the street from the present structure.

Mt. Zion purchased the 1920s-era Springville Colored Elementary School building from the St. Clair County Board of Education after integration closed the school. They have renovated the building located next to the church and use it as their fellowship hall.

Springville Colored Elementary School was a two-room, two-teacher school with grades one, two and three in one room, and grades four, five and six in the other. Mrs. Long remembered her teachers in the 1940s as being Miss Mary Reid the first three years, and Zora Quinn the last three years. Mr. Hammonds recalled names of other teachers: Pauline Hudson, Alberta Williams, Sarah McCray and Rosey Dial (Pauline Hudson’s sister).

Students desiring high school education had to go to the Ashville Colored High School, which was later named Reuben Yancey High School. By the time Mrs. Long was in the seventh-grade, a bus transported students from Springville to Ashville. However, they were required to meet the bus at a store located near today’s Dollar General. The students living in the Flat Woods, or Jones Village, had to walk up to Highway 11 to meet the bus.

Before the St. Clair County Board of Education provided transportation, the only African-American students who attended high school were those who could afford to ride the Greyhound Bus to and from Ashville. Mrs. Long said Claudie C. Woody and William Hammonds were the only two students who earned high school diplomas before transportaton was provided free to students.

Mr. Hammonds recalls fondly his teachers and their instruction at Springville Colored Elementary School. “Our teachers always encouraged us to be the best that we could. They encouraged us to reach high and to hold high standards.” He quietly reflected a moment on integration, then, added that in the old school, the teachers “… tried to instill values in us. You know, be the best that you could be. They wouldn’t accept less.”

So, the old 1920s school building serves an interracial church — a church outgrowing its current facilities and looking to the future.

Pastor Adams is excited that Mt. Zion Baptist Church and First Baptist Church are doing things together. Pastor Chipley McQueen Thornton and Pastor Larry Adams became friends early on and have worked together in the community. The two churches have a combined service and fellowship meal once a year at First Baptist. This year, an additional Thanksgiving combined service is planned for November 25, with lunch to follow. Both congregations look forward to these joint services.

The two pastors are together on missions. Pastor Thornton has twice taught theology to local pastors in Africa. In February 2019, the African pastors will meet in Paris, France, and Thornton has asked Pastor Adams to go with him to do some of the teaching. Pastor Adams recently said, “Pastor Chip asked me, ‘You got your passport?’ And I said, ‘I got it! I’m ready!’ He and I are going over what we’re going to teach to be sure we’re on the same page. Chip is a tremendous teacher.”

When asked for a comment about Pastor Adams, Pastor Thornton replied, “I shook his hand and sensed I was in the presence of a genuinely spiritual man, a man of God. He carries that aura. After hearing him so eloquently expound the Scripture, I thought, ‘Ah! Here is another Apollos (Acts 18:24)! We must go train others to do the same.’ I eagerly invited him to go with me to teach pastors. He eagerly accepted, praise the Son! Now off to Paris we go, trusting in the good will of God to guide us, come what may.”

 

Reaping rewards

The work that Sion Blythe began in Big Springs, Alabama, in 1817, flourishes today in two churches. Blythe never dreamed that the one church would become two when slaves gained freedom. But in God’s timing, a church of freed slaves formed, and today both First Baptist Church Springville and Mt. Zion trace their history to March 22, 1817.

Pastor Adams’ purpose for being a minister is to let people “know that God loves them and that Christ died for them.” And for his congregation, he desires they grow in understanding God’s Word as he shepherds them toward Zion, the City of God.

Folks familiar with long-ago church songs can hardly think of the name Mt. Zion without thinking of lines from Isaac Watts’ 1707 hymn:

We’re marching to Zion,
Beautiful, beautiful Zion,
We’re marching upward to Zion,
The beautiful City of God.

And if we listen closely, we may hear Sister Mattie Kelly’s shouts of “Glory! Hallelujah!” still echoing down the years.