How sweet it is!

Ice Cream parlor making comeback on St. Clair’s main streets

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller and Carol Pappas
Photos by Carol Pappas and Wallace Bromberg Jr.

Ice cream dripping down your chin, blackberry cobbler stuck between your teeth. How sweet it is to enjoy these fruits of summer, especially at St. Clair County’s two new ice cream shops. Sweet Sue’s Ice Cream Shop in Pell City and Laster’s Sundries by The Farmhouse in Springville are providing summer treats year ‘round on each side of the mountain. How sweet is that?

Laster’s Sundries has been a fixture on Springville’s Main Street since 1927, when Lee and Otis (Ma) Laster opened it as a drug store, soda fountain, ice cream parlor and gift shop. It has gone through several owners in its 94-year history, and even sat empty for a few years, but it’s back in business now as Laster’s Sundries by the Farmhouse. Owners Bryan and Brandi Zargo also own The Farmhouse on nearby Purple Heart Boulevard. That’s where they do a lot of the prepping of the sandwiches they sell.

 My husband saw that the building was for rent, recognized an opportunity, and said, ‘Let’s do it!’” Brandi Zargo says. “The nostalgia was part of the appeal of the place.”

Laster’s is full of nostalgia, all right. The soda fountain was bought from Robert M. Green & Sons of Philadelphia, Penn., for $2,125. There are two hand-carved, walnut backbars and companion cabinets out of a Mississippi saloon. The old fountain is made of black and white marble with an elaborate mahogany shelf and mirror behind it. Two ionic columns flank the mirror, and egg and dart molding surround it.

Old-fashioned wire ice cream tables and chairs provide much of the seating, in front of antique mahogany floor-to-ceiling showcases that formerly housed a “wide range of gifts for every occasion,” including birthdays, weddings, baby showers, etc., according to a copy of an early menu that is now displayed in one of the cases. Collectibles, such as Fitz & Floyd, Boyd’s Bears, Harmony Kingdom, Dezine Fairies, Christmas collectibles and decorations, chess sets, Galileo thermometers and more were available at one time, and the original Laster’s even had a bridal registry.

Today, those gift items are gone, but there are many souvenirs left on display, including some old medicine bottles, newspaper clippings about the place and several photographs of smiling faces about to be smeared with ice cream. One shows a group of Little Leaguers lined up on the red-and-white Coca-Cola bar stools, while another shows a mixed group of girls and boys peering over the counter.

Charlotte and Juliette Steele enjoy an after school treat at Laster’s.

The Zargos hand-dip Blue Bell ice cream and serve it by the cone or by the cup. Sensitive to the needs of their customers, they started washing their ice cream scoops between servings when one customer with a peanut allergy pointed out that some of their frozen stuff contained nuts. “We hope to get some sugar-free and even dairy-free ice cream choices soon,” Brandi says. “Bryan likes to adapt to the season, too, the way we do at the Farmhouse, so we’ll be adding some soups for the fall. We’ll also be serving coffee soon.”

Laster’s has always served ice cream, and Zargo wanted to keep that aspect of the business. But he knew that ice cream wasn’t enough to keep him afloat, so to speak. He wanted to maintain consistent hours, too, so he decided to add sandwiches to the mix. “He put a question out on What’s Happening in Springville (Facebook page) that asked what people wanted for Springville,” Brandi says. “Many folks mentioned a sandwich shop.”

Laster’s serves almost a dozen different sandwiches, and Bryan seems to come up with a new one each week. The menu includes Laster’s Club (smoked turkey, ham, provolone and cheddar), Blackened Chicken Salad (a mixture of smokehouse chicken with chopped pecans, creole mayonnaise and red grapes on ciabatta bread), Zargo’s own take on the traditional tuna melt and BLT, as well as a Smokehouse Ruben and Grilled Pimento Cheese sandwich. Each can be accompanied by potato chips, broccoli slaw, pasta salad or a cup of fruit. Canned soft drinks, tea and lemonade make up the drink list. Bryan’s brownies and cookies are available, too. In the deli area, Laster’s sells their sides and Boar’s Head meats and cheeses by the pint, quart and pound.

A former minor-league baseball player and ex-Marine, Bryan went to culinary school at Virginia College and worked at the Fish Market in Birmingham and The Club, then became executive chef at Bellini’s in Shelby County before opening The Farmhouse and then Laster’s Sundries. The Farmhouse opened a year ago in the midst of the COVID pandemic, but has done well, according to Brandi.

Sweet Sue’s

Jenny Alverson and husband Richard knew they wanted to open a business, but they weren’t quite sure what it would be.

But when they saw the historic building for rent on Pell City’s downtown main street, Cogswell Avenue, it sparked a nostalgic whim, and Sweet Sue’s Ice Cream Shop was born.

“We fell in love with the idea of ice cream – old-timey sundaes and banana splits – things you couldn’t find anymore,” Jenny says. The concept fit perfectly inside the historic 1890 structure thought to be Pell City’s first brick building.

The building was perfect, too, with its exposed brick walls, outdoor seating and plenty of room for colorfully painted booths and tables inside – just like an old-fashioned ice cream parlor.

And it certainly fit as an age-old tradition. When you think of celebrations and gatherings, she says, ice cream usually plays a starring role. “Ice cream just seems happy.”

She and Richard grew up in the smaller towns of Odenville and Ashville, so they knew Pell City well. “We went to Pell City for all the important stuff,” Jenny recalls. “St. Clair County feels like home.”

Since opening May 6, the Alversons, along with their children who help out – Shannon, Kaylan, Mayli and Thomas – have added to the menu.

Pimento cheese and chicken salad sandwiches, nachos, hotdogs, sausage dogs, barbecue salads and pork sliders offer fare for another eatery in downtown Pell City. “We haven’t made an actual menu yet,” she says. “We’re seeing what works.”

Coffee is coming later and probably old-fashioned lemonade. “We’re doing it slowly to see how it all goes,” she says.

So far, so good. The staple, of course, is ice cream with dozens of flavors – waffle cones, cups and even a “bubble waffle,” which is warm on the inside, crispy on the outside and tastes like a waffle with ice cream nestled inside. For a smaller sweet tooth, baby bubbles are available, too!

For Jenny, the ice cream shop brings back precious memories from childhood, when her grandmother used to take her for a treat. It also reminds her of being able to feed a family without breaking the pocketbook. With four children of her own, she knows the value of taking them somewhere special and still being able to treat them all for under $10 just like her father did with her and her four siblings.

Judging by the response as customers stream in and out, Sweet Sue’s is as popular as the Blue Bell ice cream it serves. “We couldn’t ask for a better community. The support the community has given us and the excitement they have shown that we’re open have been huge.

“We wanted to make people happy with something fun. No matter what kind of day they’re having, ice cream can just change everything.” l

Lyman Lovejoy

Success story On a 50-year run

Story by Carol Pappas
Discover staff photos

It’s not hard to understand why Realtor Lyman Lovejoy has earned the nickname, “Mayor of St. Clair County.” Just like the leader of a bustling community, you will usually find him at the center of a flurry of activity, whether it’s a civic endeavor, developing a residential community or playing a pivotal role in economic development.

His love for St. Clair County is unmistakable. His work over the past 50 years to promote it, showcase it and yes, sell it, is undeniable.

The nickname does have original ownership. “I coined the term mayor of St. Clair County because his impact on this county has been tremendous,” said prominent attorney John Rea. “His reach has impacted every community in this county. Not only has he had a phenomenal run of business for 50 years, he has been heavily involved in economic development with the Economic Development Council.”

‘Impact’ is an ideal word to describe his efforts over the years. As Rea noted, Lovejoy’s impact transcends lines and has been on both the public and private side.

His longevity in the real estate industry has not gone unnoticed either. The St. Clair Association of Realtors honored him in its annual recognition luncheon for achieving the 50-year mark.

Along the way to 50 years, Lovejoy has seen the ups and downs of business but always weathered the storm, no matter how dark it seemed.

None seem as dark as the Great Recession of 2008. “In ’08, we owed a lot of money, but we paid our bills, and we learned from it,” Lovejoy said.

His son, Shawn Lovejoy, credits his resilience and success to his “ability to care for people, his integrity and his positive attitude. He is incredibly resilient. ‘Quit’ is not in his vocabulary.”  

Couple that with his community first, not business first attitude that drives him, and the picture of him as an ambassador for his adopted home of St. Clair County comes into focus.

From left, Richard Knight of Metro Bank, Lovejoy and Bill Ellison, 2021 EDC Chairman’s Award winner, at annual EDC event

You’ll probably find the name of every commissioner, chamber official, mayor and councilman in his phone. He never hesitates to call them with news of interest or just to say hello. “I get along with all of them,” he said. If it’s a civic gathering, a council session or a commission meeting, you’ll more than likely find him there, too. He likes to know what is going on, but more important, how he can help.

It’s not unusual to see him in the middle of a flurry of activity. He has been known to entertain in a musical group at nursing homes and senior centers and is active in his church, First Baptist of Ashville. He served on the St. Clair EDC and later was awarded its Chairman’s Award.

He has played leadership roles with the St. Clair Association of Realtors, served as chairman and is a member of the Ascension St. Vincent’s St. Clair Hospital Board, and he is a past member of the Alabama Real Estate Commission, a gubernatorial appointment.

Early years

 The time was 1971. With only a high school education and zero experience, he decided to go into real estate. Some may have thought he would never make it, but he was determined to prove them wrong.

He and his young wife, Catherine, were a team – “a one-two punch,” Shawn Lovejoy recalled. They worked many tireless hours – her doing the books and squeezing every dime and him out meeting, greeting and handshaking. They call it ‘people skills,’ and those who know him would agree Lovejoy certainly has the corner on that market. And it set Lovejoy Realty on a journey of success as a leader in St. Clair County.

Over the years, relationships only strengthened. “We’ve sold some of the same people houses five times,” he said. He’s given many a young person a start on land ownership. With $500 down, he has financed young people “who never owned a piece of land in their life – hundreds of them – still do.”

Building relationships

Ed Gardner Sr., who served as the first executive director of the St. Clair Economic Development Council, said, “It is not possible to think St. Clair County without thinking Lyman Lovejoy, they are synonymous.” Lovejoy served as chairman of the EDC for many years.

“There are many reasons why St. Clair County has experienced significant quality growth over the past 20 years but when you break those reasons down, you will find Mr. Lovejoy as a component in most,” he said. “First of all, there has never been a more prominent ambassador or proponent for a worthy cause. His enthusiasm and warm, friendly demeanor permeates every meeting, public or private, and immediately exudes trust and confidence by those in decision-making positions.”

His community before business philosophy puts him in an elite class. “Lyman has ALWAYS placed the best interest of St. Clair County above all other considerations, including personal gain,” Gardner said. “He will always make himself available for meeting with anyone anywhere if there is a chance that his presence will add to the possibility of bringing investment into our county.”

 His people skills set him apart, Gardner added. “Lyman’s love of his fellow man brings him into personal contact with more people than most public officials. There are no barriers recognized by him when it comes to reaching out to people. He is just as accommodating to those of low income and minorities as the highest corporate and political officials, always demonstrating the same concern.”

Doing the right thing is his trademark. “His integrity, honesty and impeccable character is evident in every transaction, therefore you never need to wonder where he stands on an issue,” Gardner said. “If you do the right thing, you know that your decision will meet with his approval.”

Rock House

Four generations, one unique home in Ashville

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller

Photos by Graham Hadley

Some call it the Rock House because of the building materials used for its walls. Others call it the Weaning House because several young newlyweds have lived in it. Historically, it is known as the R.E. Jones House, after its builder and original occupants.

Regardless of what you call it, this Craftsman-style house on U.S. 231 near downtown Ashville has been home to four generations of a local family with the fifth due in June. That’s a lot of love and laughter for a house that’s only 76 years old.

“My daddy started building the house right before WWII,” says Ross T. Jones, the current owner and a former transportation supervisor for the St. Clair County Board of Education. “He went to war before he could finish it and returned in 1945, then completed it in 1946.”

Ross’ daddy, Ross Earl (Buddy) Jones, was born in 1909. He was the son of Ashville businessman Green T. Jones, who co-owned the Jones and McBrayer General Store with A.L. McBrayer of Ashville.The store sold everything from milk to coffins.After graduating from high school, Buddy Jones worked for the county and for his father, delivering coal in the winter and ice in the summer to area customers.

 Buddy married Lorene Montgomery, whose father, Walter Montgomery, had purchased the land where the Rock House stands in the late 1800s for $500, a horse and a saddle. The 3.5 acres of land came with an existing house. Lorene’s parents lived in that house, which is next door to where the Rock House was built, until they died. Ross Jones’s nephew lives there today.

 By the time Buddy was drafted, he had finished the two back bedrooms, central hallway and kitchen of the Rock House. “My mom and brother, Jerry, lived there while dad was on active duty,” Ross says. When he returned from the war, Buddy finished a third bedroom, the breakfast nook, living room and dining room. The rooms were kept warm by a wood heater in the hallway. Its flue has since been removed and covered over.

Four generations: Ross T. Jones, Laura Norris, Gracie Merritt and daughter Hattie Grace

“There was an outhouse on the property back then, and we’re not sure when the indoor bathroom was added,” says Ross, who was raised in the Rock House. “It was probably about the time Ashville got a sewer system, because we’ve never had a septic tank here.”

He has the original blueprints for the house, which was patterned after a rock home in Albertville. His father gathered the rocks for the foundation and outside walls in the afternoons after he got off work. He and a co-worker took the company truck after making coal or ice deliveries and picked up rocks in various fields around Ashville. He dumped them into a big pile in what is now the backyard.

 “Folks were glad to get them out of their fields so they could grow crops,” says Ross. When Forney Coker started laying the stones, he soon announced to Buddy Jones, “You don’t have half enough.” So, Buddy continued his rock gathering until he had the amount needed.

Some of those rocks support the house from underneath. Two 20-foot-long rock columns, each about 2.5-3 feet in height and two feet wide, start at the back and end where the hallway stops and the dining room begins. The front porch wraps around half of the right side of the house and uses six rock columns that measure 2.5 feet on each side. Each column is topped with a concrete banister. The columns and walls were formed by building wood frames, stacking rocks in them and pouring concrete into the frames. After the concrete set, builders moved the frame higher, added more rocks and concrete, then repeated the process until the columns and walls reached the desired heights.

There are two ways to enter from the front porch. An arched entryway rises above French doors at the main entrance, which takes you in through the dining room. To the left of the dining room is the living room, which can be entered through a single outside door. “Grandmother used that door, but hardly anybody else has since her,” says Laura Norris, Ross Jones’s daughter. “Most use the French doors into the dining room.”

Behind the dining room is a breakfast nook that leads into the kitchen. The hallway runs from the dining room to the house’s only bathroom at the back. The breakfast nook, kitchen and back bedroom are off the right side of the hall, while two bedrooms and a small closet between them are off the left side. The back bedroom on the right is being used by the current residents, Laura’s daughter, Gracie, and her husband, Stoney Merritt, as a laundry room, storage room and extra closet. A side door enters a tiny area that used to house Ross’ mother’s washing machine, and that area leads into the breakfast nook.

“There are only three closets in the house, including the utility closet in the hallway,” Laura says. “There’s a brick fireplace in the back bedroom and another one in the living room that are original. They are so shallow, we think more coal than wood was burned in them.”

Front door still uses the original key to lock

Several newlyweds rented the house after Buddy and Lorene’s death. Laura didn’t live there until she married Michael Norris in late 1999. They lived there until 2001. Jonathan Jones, Laura’s brother, moved in when he returned from college, staying until he moved to Huntsville in 2005. In 2006, Laura and Michael returned to the Rock House, this time turning it into the offices of their startup company, Laboratory Resources and Solutions (LRS). When LRS moved into their current office in downtown Ashville in 2017, Laura turned the cottage into an Airbnb for a couple of years.

“We had a lot more business than I thought this area would have,” Laura says of that enterprise. “Roses & Lace Bed-and-Breakfast next door had closed, and we got a lot of guests from wedding venues and Talladega race fans.” That incarnation ended in August of 2020 when Gracie and Stoney moved in as newlyweds. When their daughter, Hattie Grace,was recently born, she became the fifth generation of the same local family to live in the Rock House.

“Mom and dad helped us do a few renovations before we lived there in 1999, and Michael and I have done all of the renovations that have taken place since 2006,” Laura says.

She and Michael kept the original hardwood floors in the living room, dining room and front bedroom, had the dirty carpet ripped up from the hallway and back rooms, then replaced the pine that was under that with more hardwood, and had all hardwood floors stained to match. All doors and windows are original, but the roof is fairly new and so is the wiring and plumbing. Plaster walls were patched and painted throughout the house. They also added heating and air.

 “I wanted to maintain the original character of the house,” Laura says. “I tried to save the original sink in the kitchen, but it was rusted through.” The bathtub is original to the house. Ross tiled parts of the plaster walls alongside the bathtub during the 1990s to create a shower.

While re-wiring the house, their electrician fell through the plaster ceiling in the hallway. “We had to call in a plaster guy to fix it,” Michael Norris says. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, though. “I did the same thing when Laura and I lived here,” Michael says. “We were putting insulation in the attic, and you have to walk on the wooden beams, and there’s still bark on them. The bark came off and I fell through.”

 Two outbuildings are original to the property, one a barn, the other a shed. The barn was built by Ross Jones’ maternal grandfather, Walter Montgomery, and the white shed by his father, Buddy. “The third door of that white outbuilding on the right was the outhouse,” says Laura. “My grandfather moved grandmother’s washing machine out there after it caused the floor at the side entrance of the house to rot. He covered the hole where the outhouse had been with a slab of concrete and put a drain in it for her wash house.”

Laura had the kitchen remodeled for Gracie. She replaced brown appliances from the 1960s with stainless-steel editions, added a dishwasher and replaced the flooring with gray, interlocking tiles. She kept the cabinets that were built by Wilson Construction of Ashville in the 1960s. “We put new doors on them and painted them white,” she says. “The old ones were stained from years of cooking.” She put in quartz countertops, with white subway tiles for the backsplashes, a gray under-mount sink of a composite material, and added modern light fixtures. “We had to special-order the wall oven to fit the 30-inch space,” Michael says. “The standard is 36 inches.”

The Hoosier cabinet in the breakfast nook belonged to Laura’s grandmother on her mother’s side. “She made lots of biscuits on it,” says Laura’s mother, Beth Jones. “The marble countertop in the breakfast room is from the soda fountain in the original Ashville Drugs, when it was next door to Teague Mercantile.”

This is Gracie’ssecond time to live in the Rock House. “I wasn’t even two when we moved,” she says. “I learned to walk in the hallway. I had grid marks on my feet as a child from walking on the floor furnace (now a cold air return for the HVAC system). I’m using a dresser and vanity that belonged to the original owner, my great-grandmother, and she used them in the same bedroom.”

Laura used the same pieces of furniture as a teenager, then Gracie used them as a child where her parents live now on County Road 33. “They came back home,” Gracie says.

Her favorite spots in the house are the kitchen and front porch. “There’s always a breeze on the porch,” she says. Her grandfather, Ross, adds, “In the summers it doesn’t get hot in here.”

Laura still has the original key to the front door, although she thought she had lost it when the child of an Airbnb tenant took it out of the door when his family traveled back to Texas. “I couldn’t open the front doors without it, so I called the family, and they found it in their child’s belongings and sent it back to me,” she says.

Gracie has many fond memories of playing in the backyard with her younger brother, John-Michael, and exploring the woods behind the backyard. “There used to be a big crabapple tree that we climbed a lot,” she says.

 The limitations of just one bathroom and few closets will eventually propel Gracie, Stoney and little Hattie to find a larger home, but in the meantime, there’s no place that she had rather be, she says. “I like the idea of living around so much family history.”

Dr. Penny Njoroge

Ms. Senior St. Clair is personification of empowerment

Story by Scottie Vickery
Photos by Graham Hadley
Submitted Photos

Growing up in Kenya, Dr. Penny Njoroge wanted nothing more than to get an education. The oldest of 10 children, she longed to learn and had big dreams, but they seemed to be out of reach.

“In my village, girls were raised to get married, raise families and serve the extended families in the communities – never to go to school,” she said. “I pestered my father until he got tired and registered me in school at age 11. As a result, he was kicked out of his family and clan, disinherited and forced to take us from our ancestral home. We ended up in the poorest slums of Nairobi.”

In the decades that followed, Dr. Penny, as she’s known to most people, survived domestic violence, depression and other hardships before finally starting college in the United States when she was 56. The reigning Mrs. Senior St. Clair County, she’s a psychologist, counselor, mental health advocate, award-winning motivational speaker and life coach.

“My desire is to empower, equip and encourage people not to quit,” said Dr. Penny, now 74. “I want to inspire people to dream big and pursue their life goals, regardless of how old or young or how rich or poor they may be.”

The path from Kenya to Trussville, where Dr. Penny lives with her son and his family, was filled with challenges and heartache, but her experiences have equipped her to be a compassionate advocate. “I can understand,” she said. “I’ve been there. Things may be bad today, but they can be better tomorrow.”

Life in Kenya

Dr. Penny’s desire to go to school cost her family, and life was hard. There was no sanitation in the slums they called home, and they constantly struggled, “selling scavenged bones and metal pieces for food, clothing and tuition.” She had promised her father he would never regret sending her to school, so she worked hard, became a top performing student and earned a spot in her country’s top girls’ high school.

Flagging a group to climb Mt. Kenya, the highest in the country.

“Being the first of 10 children, my parents couldn’t afford to send me to college, so I started educating my siblings and working in the corporate world,” she said. She married at 22 and had four children – three boys and a girl. She loves her children dearly – “they are my backbone,” she said – but she endured a lot in her marriage.“ I survived 30 years of serious domestic abuse and violence, 25 years of depression and two attempted suicides until I ran for my life,” she said.

Her escape came by way of Servants in Faith and Technology (SIFAT), a Christian nonprofit founded by Ken and Sarah Corson, an Alabama couple who were missionaries in Bolivia. They started SIFAT in Lineville in 1979 and have trained church and community leaders from more than 80 countries to help meet basic needs in developing countries.

Dr. Penny’s church sponsored her 6-month community development training at SIFAT, and while she was in Alabama, she met some fellow Kenyans, including one who worked at Carraway Hospital. She was inspired to become a hospital chaplain, and after getting a visa, she moved to Alabama permanently in 2000 and began training at Carraway.

New Beginnings

Dr. Penny enrolled in college at 56 and earned a bachelor’s degree through distance learning from Carolina University and a master’s degree in Christian Counseling Psychology from Carolina University of Theology. She also earned her doctorate in Clinical Psychiatric Counseling Psychology from the Cornerstone University of Louisiana and worked as a board-certified trauma, hospital and psychiatric chaplain at St. Vincent’s East Hospital for 16 years before retiring as lead psychologist. 

“The U.S. has been a God-given home for me; it gave me a second chance in life,” said Dr. Penny, who became a citizen in 2017. “I have loved Alabama. To me, it is a place of healing and advancement.”

Dr. Penny with her Most Motivating Woman Award

Not one to sit still, Dr. Penny opened Angel Counseling Services. “My greatest passion is to remove the shame and stigma of mental illness,” the trained telehealth provider said. “Given a chance, anybody can survive and make a difference. People have a great sense of endurance if they have just a bit of a chance. I want to be able to offer compassion, to give a listening ear to someone, to give hope to someone.”

Some of Dr. Penny’s co-workers from St. Vincent’s encouraged her to enter the Ms. Senior St. Clair County pageant, and after winning that she was first runner-up in the Ms. Senior Alabama event. She also won Ms. Congeniality and People’s Choice honors.

“They said they were not looking only for beautiful faces, but also a beautiful story,” she said. “I wanted to share my inspirational story of great struggles, shame, rejection and deprivation accompanied by a spirit that refused to quit on my dreams.”

Dr. Penny said her children and grandchildren are her biggest supporters and sources of strength. “I would not be anywhere without that team,” she said. “We must intentionally cling to our families so we can face storms. I’ve gone through many storms, but it has been worth it because I am able to stand with people today and give them hope.”

Creedon Creek

Andy and Creed Stone keep legacy, craftsmanship alive

Story Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Graham Hadley
Submitted Photos

Andy Stone has developed an eye for beautiful wood. He sees character where others see beetle tunnels and discolorations. He takes so-called faulty pieces and turns them into unique tabletops, floating shelves and mantels. It’s a gift that propelled him from a hobby to making a living with wood, despite starting his business during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“I started woodworking as a side business in 2006, while I was with Bill Harbert Construction,” says Andy. “Later, while I was at Coca-Cola, I prayed about it for two years, then in October of 2020, I stepped out on faith, trusted God and decided to do it. It was kinda scary, starting a business at that time.”

His Creedon Creek Woodworking began near his home in Trussville, but he quickly outgrew that shop. He moved to the Leeds headquarters of W.C. Wright Heating, Air, Plumbing and Generators because he needed more space. “Wright is a longtime friend who has plenty of warehouse space,” Andy says. “But we’re looking for something closer to home, in the Trussville or Springville area.”

From live-edge shelves to cutting boards, if it is made of wood, Creedon Creek can make it.

The “we” to which he is referring includes his father, Creedon, who works with Andy and for whom the company is named. It’s just the two of them right now, but they hope to hire a helper soon. They build dining room tables, custom furniture, outdoor furniture, built-in bookcases and cabinets, mantels, conference tables, office desks and more. They do a lot of charcuterie boards, which are glorified cutting boards, because they are “all the rage now,” says Andy’s mom, Brenda Stone. “Most of them are out of hickory and walnut,” she says.

Epoxy tables are quite popular now, too. “Wood will have a live edge (where the bark was) and a straight edge (cut side),” Andy explains. “You put the live edges together and use resin to fill the gap between them. It can look like a river flowing through the length of the wood.” He says “Welcome” and scripture signs are also popular for dens and front porches, and he has done a few mudroom benches.

“We built a mantel from a pine log that came from the bottom of Lay Lake,” says Creed, the name the elder Stone goes by. “We like to have never got a hole drilled in it, it was so hard.” Andy wants to get into the wedding industry by making custom wedding gifts as well as serving pieces such as cake platters and tabletop risers for caterers to use at receptions.

Some people go to Creedon Creek with photos of what they want, others with only vague ideas and dreams. Andy will draw something up or send them to the internet in search of a picture for inspiration. “If you can dream it, we can make it,” is Creedon Creek’s motto.

 “I keep a folder of plans that I draw for people, in case I need something to reference,” Andy says. “I’m the only one who can read them, though,” he adds, referring to his drawing skills and penmanship.

Most of their machinery is portable, i.e., shop tools mounted on wheels. They have the usual table saw, router, planers and sanders, drills and track saw, as well as a fiber laser machine that’s used to cut out designs or cut them into a piece of wood.

They would love to own a portable sawmill and just might try to buy out their supplier when he retires. “We use a sawyer named Larry Ferguson of Cook Springs to cut wood from logs,” says Creed. “Ferguson Sawmill was started by his daddy, and my daddy bought from him.”

They use a variety of wood, including hickory, walnut, pine, cedar, maple and teak. They know the difference between ambrosia, curly and spalted wood and used all of those in a dining room table that is Andy’s favorite achievement so far. “Ambrosia wood is where you see little tunnels made by the ambrosia beetle,” Andy says. “Curly refers to the way the piece is cut: it’s quarter-sawn. Spalted is a discoloring caused by a fungus.” Then there’s “buggy blue” pine, where a fungus that grows on pine trees causes a blue stain in the grain.

Andy and Mackenzie

Teak and sapele are their choices for outdoor furniture, because both are highly weather-resistant. “Sapele looks like mahogany but it’s as durable as teak,” Andy says. “We seal our outdoor furniture with Thompson’s Water Seal, like you would a deck, although they don’t need anything.”

 Stacks of boards are scattered about the workroom, along with piles of cross-cut timber or “cookies.” Andy puts the latter together to make end tables and coffee tables. One particular flame-box elder cookie displays a red coloration that was made by love bugs. “We’ll probably put together two slices, a large one and a smaller one that broke off, using epoxy and pieces of wood cut in the shape of bow ties and inlaid between the slices,” Andy says.

He’ll set the bow ties opposite to the grain in the pieces he joins, to keep the wood from expanding and contracting too much. “You never know how wood will act,” says Andy. “Certain wood goes this way or that, and you have to tame it to go the way you want it to by the way you cut it and finish it. We’re just glorified wood tamers.”

Under one of his work benches is a small tool bag that belongs to Andy’s daughter, 3-year-old Mackenzie. It contains real pliers, a hammer, ear protection and safety glasses. When Mackenzie visits her dad at the shop, she pulls out her tool bag and pretends to work right alongside him. When she tires of that, she zips around the room on her plastic car. “She’s the reason I stepped out on my own, to make her proud, to leave a legacy,” Andy says.

Prominently displayed on one vertical support beam is a 3D map of the United States, with each state recessed. Fifty pieces cut out of the map are in the shape of the 50 states, and they fit together like a puzzle. When someone orders such a map, Andy donates the pieces to a school or day care so the kids can paint them and learn about the states. “My silent business partner came up with this idea,” Andy says. It was his idea, however, to donate a tree to onetreeplanted.org, an organization that plants trees around the world, for every product sold.

“My great-grandfather was a master woodworker, and he and my grandfather were contractors,” says Andy. “One of my main goals is to start a mentorship program. I would love to teach some younger kids the trade, so it doesn’t die off.” l

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Hemp Farming

Odenville farm family pioneer new crop

Story by Scottie Vickery
Submitted photos from Tiffany Roach, TNR Creative,
and Scott McLeod

There were days not too long ago when Bobby Isbell looked out from the front porch of his Odenville farm and saw lost opportunity. Years before, the family had dabbled in running a Christmas tree farm, but the fields had been dormant for a while.

“All we had out here was grass,” the poultry farmer of 32 years said of the six acres that make up his yard. For Bobby, who has a love of agriculture running through his veins, it was a blank canvas of sorts. The more he looked at the land, the more he could picture a lush green crop dotting the landscape.

That’s why he decided to join the first wave of farmers in Alabama to grow industrial hemp, a variety of the Cannabis sativa plant species harvested specifically to make an assortment of products – everything from paper and clothing to paint and biodegradable plastics. In addition, cannabidiol, or CBD oil, is made from industrial hemp and is widely used as a natural remedy for issues such as pain, inflammation and anxiety. 

“I got to reading about it, and I thought we’d give it a go,” said Bobby, who opened Baldrock Hemp Farm LLC in 2019. The business, like all of his endeavors, is a family affair, and after two seasons of growing hemp and selling it to processors, the Isbells recently launched their own line of organically grown CBD creams, capsules and oils. The oils, available in different strengths, are offered with lemon, peppermint, spearmint or natural flavors. There’s even a pet food supplement with a bacon and herb flavor.

“Bobby’s always looking for an opportunity to benefit his family,” daughter-in-law Haley Isbell said. “He saw an opportunity to get us in on the front end of something, and we all trusted him. We knew if anyone could do it, he could.”

The education process

Before 2019, it was illegal to grow hemp, which comes from the same plant species as marijuana, in the United States. The Farm Bill of 2018, however, reclassified hemp from a controlled substance to an agricultural commodity. The main difference between the two is the level of tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the chemical usually associated with getting high. Industrial hemp has a THC level of 0.3 percent or less while marijuana has higher levels of THC.

“We spend a lot of time answering that question,” Haley, who coordinates marketing for the business, said with a laugh. “No matter how many times we say it’s not the same thing, we still get the wink-wink, nod-nod sometimes.”

Before they could educate their customers, they had to learn more themselves. Bobby’s son, Bobby III, who is also a poultry farmer, jumped in with both feet. They were among the first Alabama farmers licensed to grow or process hemp in the state’s pilot program in 2019.

Bobby Isbell shows off a young plant, below

Growers, handlers and processors must be licensed by the Alabama Department of Agriculture and Industries (ADAI), and the regulation process is strict. According to Gail Ellis, hemp program manager for the department, the state issued 173 grower licenses for 2021, including three in St. Clair County.

Bobby’s wife, Lynn, said that her husband and son participated in seminars and conferences in Tennessee, Kentucky and other places to learn more about the industry, the products and the methods for growing hemp. “We tried to pick up as much knowledge as we could before we got into it,” Bobby said. “You can read all you want, but you have to learn by doing it. The first year was all work and no play.”

Besides following state regulations, the Isbells have also earned organic certification from Food Alliance. “My generation wants a more organic product with fewer chemicals, so we went through the process of being certified,” Haley said. “We wanted to offer a hemp product that was locally and organically grown so that we could provide our customers with the most natural way to address health and wellness issues.”

Learning curve

In addition to growing hemp, Bobby and his son are both still poultry farmers. Bobby raises about 125,000 chickens while Bobby III has about 127,000. “That first year, we were like single women,” Lynn said. “We didn’t really see them that much.”

Bobby and his son worked from daylight to dark, plowing the field, tilling the soil and preparing to plant hemp seeds in six acres. “That was way too much,” he said. “Now we just grow four acres, which is about 10,000 plants.” The planting process takes place in late May, and the crops are harvested in September or October.

The first year, they planted the seeds by hand. Last year, they germinated the seeds in the greenhouse and planted the seedlings. “That way you know you’ve got a plant in every hole,” rather than a seed that may or may not grow, Bobby said.

Like the vast majority of hemp grown in Alabama, the Isbells’ crop is grown for CBD oil. “Once the days start getting longer, they start sending out flowers and buds,” he said. “That’s what we want – the flowers to produce the oil. Out west, a lot of hemp is grown for the fiber. Carmakers make seats out of it.”

Drying the plants

This year’s crop is the Isbells’ third, and they’ve learned a lot along the way. The first year, they planted the rows too close together and couldn’t get a mower through, so they had to cut the grass with a weed trimmer. This year, they made sure to leave enough space for a riding lawn mower. 

Although the Isbells use organic methods to control bugs, Alabama hemp farmers have to be careful about the types of pesticides they use. “If you spray with something you’re not supposed to and take it to a processing plant, they’ll kick it out,” Isbell said.

In addition to approving seed sources and pesticides, the ADAI tests each crop in the state for THC levels, as well. If the level is higher than 0.3 percent, the field will be destroyed, according to information on the agency’s website. Growers must also submit GPS coordinates, which are forwarded to law enforcement so that officers can differentiate between a legal hemp crop and an illegal marijuana crop.

Bobby said he talked with the St. Clair County Sheriff’s Department, the district attorney’s office, and the Moody and Odenville police departments before planting for the first time in 2019. They also put up a fence with a green screen to keep animals out of the field and to discourage curious visitors. “Lots of people have stopped and looked, but we haven’t had any issues so far,” Lynn said.

The final product

Once the hemp is ready to be harvested – about 100 to 110 days after planting – the workload really increases. Last year they hired extra help, and it takes about two weeks to get it all out of the field. “We cut it by hand, and we try not to ever let it hit the ground,” Bobby said. “We unload it by hand, and then we hang it in the drying shed by hand.”

The Isbells hung netting from ceiling to floor in the climate-controlled building and they stand on scaffolding to hang the hemp upside down in the nets. The crop dries for 7-10 days, and it takes two or three cycles to get all of the hemp dried. “It’s like cooking. If you rush it, you don’t get a good end product,” Bobby said.

Once dried, the hemp is stripped by hand, and they collect the finished product in 75- to 100-pound bags. The first year, they loaded up the bags and took them to a processor in Colorado since there weren’t many options in Alabama at the time. Last year, they used a processor in Huntsville.

The Isbells launched the Baldrock Hemp Farm line of CBD products in February, and the oils, creams and capsules are produced from their hemp by Sustainable CBD in Selma. “We definitely believe in what we’ve got, and we have lots of repeat customers,” said Haley, who designed the label and launched the website, baldrockhemp.com. “It’s a natural product that a lot of people have found relieves anxiety, joint pain and other symptoms.”

The family is some of its own best customers. Bobby III has found it helps him sleep when his body can’t shut down after a full day of physical labor. Bobby’s 87-year-old father uses the cream for joint pain, and Lynn takes it every night. “Sometimes, if I’ve been anxious, I’ll put a dropperful of the lemon flavored oil in my tea, and the anxiousness just goes away.” A family friend with a stressful job said that it helps keep him calm, Bobby said.

Although adding a hemp farm to the demands of poultry farming has been a tremendous undertaking, the Isbells said they are glad they took the leap of faith. “I enjoy it,” Bobby III said. “It gives me something to do in the summer.” The comment doesn’t surprise his wife.

“They can’t sit still,” Haley said of her husband and father-in-law. “If they hadn’t done hemp, they would have found something else.”