St. Clair lakes play prominent role in epic paddle race
Story by Scottie Vickery Submitted Photos
Seven days, 8 hours, 1 minute and 55 seconds after launching his
kayak at Weiss Lake in northeast Alabama, Bobby Johnson paddled his way to the
finish line at Fort Morgan in Mobile Bay.
He’d spent a little more than a week traversing 650 miles of
Alabama waterways, battling the heat, alligators, exhaustion and hunger to win
the inaugural Great Alabama 650, a world-class paddle race held in September.
He and his 17 competitors raced along the core section of the Alabama Scenic
River Trail, the longest river trail in a single state.
“It was incredible,” said Johnson, who lives in Dunedin, Fla., and
first started kayaking about four years ago. “The people of Alabama are
awesome, and the scenery was amazing. Every day you saw something beautiful –
sunrises, sunsets, the hills, the very dense woods. The wildlife was
unbelievable. Everybody I talk to; I recommend that race all day long.”
That’s exactly what organizers of the Alabama 650 like to hear.
They know the state has the most “experience-diverse” river trail in the
country, and they want to share it with as many people as possible. “In
Alabama, we’ve got more navigable waterways than any other state except
Alaska,” said Jay Grantland, executive director of the Alabama Scenic River
Trail. “There’s everything from whitewater to flat water, big lakes and small
streams. There’s just about every type of water you’d want to paddle on
throughout that river system.”
Trail Angels
The success of the race, which boasted a $22,500 prize split among
winners in three divisions, relied heavily on volunteers known as “Trail
Angels,” including Max Jolley, who lives at Powell’s Campground on Logan Martin
Lake. Competitors were required to stop at nine portage locations along the
Coosa and Alabama Rivers – Weiss, Neely Henry, Logan Martin, Lay, Mitchell and
Jordan dams, and Robert F. Henry, Millers Ferry and Claiborne lock and dams –
as well as two checkpoints.
“The volunteers were one of the most important factors of making
this race successful all along the 650 miles,” Grantland said. “As the days
roll on, the racers get further and further apart so we had to rely on the
volunteers to man those different portages to make sure everyone was safe and
performing fairly.”
While some racers had professional crews to help carry their boats
and gear around the dam, others had one person or relied on volunteers. To keep
it fair, the racers had mandatory rest breaks of 30 or 45 minutes, so race
officials or volunteers had to track the time they arrived and left each
portage.
“Apparently this long-distance paddling is a thing out in the
world,” Jolley, who volunteered at Logan Martin Dam, said with a laugh. “It was
exciting, and it was a fun learning experience for me. I got to talk to each of
the kayakers and the crews and learn some of their strategies, and we helped
get the kayaks out and made sure everyone had some food and water. I can’t wait
to do it again next year.”
Jolley especially enjoyed the digital spectator experience. Thanks
to GPS transponders, race officials and anyone who was interested could track
the racers on the Alabama Scenic River Trail’s website and Facebook pages. “We knew where everyone was at every minute,”
Grantland said.
Competitor Salli O’Donnell was in the lead for most of the race,
and Jolley was keeping tabs on his computer to see when she was heading his
way. “When I saw she was getting close, I went out and took a picture of her,
and then I jumped in my truck and headed down to the dam,” he said. Because
Logan Martin was one of the first portages, the racers were still fairly close
together. Jolley said he stayed at the dam about seven hours and saw most of
the kayakers come through during that time.
Jolley and others also posted about the race on social media,
which helped stir up excitement among lake and river enthusiasts who offered
encouragement from docks and boats. “Every one of the kayakers, almost to the
person, were talking about how great it was seeing people on the lake cheering
them on,” Jolley said. “They didn’t expect that.”
Johnson, 41, said it was a game-changer for him. “The people were
awesome,” he said. “When you have people on the banks screaming your name and
cheering you on, it’s an instant boost. It always seemed to happen just when
you needed it most. If you’re just paddling for 650 miles, and you’re not
talking to anyone or seeing anyone, you’re just paddling. This made me feel
like a racer.”
Jolley said he was thrilled with the racers’ reaction to the
hospitality on the lake. “That made me feel better than anything,” he said. “I
wanted Logan Martin to be remembered for the people and the beauty of the
lake.”
He was also impressed with the attention to detail the organizers
put into the race. “A lot of planning and strategy went into it, I’ll tell you
that,” Jolley said.
Behind the Scenes
Grantland said the idea for the race came about in early 2018
after he and some of the nonprofit’s board members had been to an outdoor
adventure show in Ontario to promote Alabama’s recreational offerings and the
river trail.
The Alabama Scenic River Trail got its start about 12 years ago
when Fred Couch, an avid paddler from Anniston, spearheaded the efforts to
divide the 650-mile stretch of water into four sections and provide guides for
each one with information on parking, camping, launch sites and emergency phone
numbers.
“It was great for families because it gave everyone peace of
mind,” Grantland said, adding that the guides are available on the website.
“They could take the kids camping without having to do all the homework and
figuring it all out on their own. It started bringing in tourists.”
That core 650-mile section got so popular that officials from
other areas wanted to add information about their waterways, too. “Here we are
almost 12 years later, and we’ve gone from 650 to right at 5,600 miles” of
navigable waterways, he said.
The impact has been a big one. “It’s definitely a quality of life
benefit,” said Grantland, who started paddling when he was 10. “You can get the
children outdoors and away from the TV.” There’s an economic benefit, as well.
If you’re trying to attract businesses or corporations, they’re looking for
areas with a good quality of life for their employees.”
Returning from the adventure show, the group brainstormed ideas
for promoting the river trail out. “We wanted to put it out there to the
world,” Grantland said. “That got the ball rolling, and then I started
Googling. I have a master’s degree from Google in paddle racing.”
Serious planning began about this time last year, and Greg Wingo,
who has a background in adventure racing, was hired as race director. “Between
my experience in paddling and his experience in adventure racing, we were able
to put together a pretty good race,” Grantland said. “It took a massive amount
of coordination.”
Pushing limits
Racers could enter in three categories: male solo, female solo and
two-person teams. Eighteen racers registered (some individually, some in
teams), but only four finished the race: Johnson, O’Donnell and teammates Ryan
Gillikin and Susan Jordan.
“This year, we really
didn’t know what to expect, and we took anyone who wanted to register,”
Grantland said. “Obviously, some didn’t have the ability, but it was fine
because it brought a lot of attention to the race.”
Word is spreading about the event, one of a handful of
long-distance paddle races, and Grantland says he expects they’ll have to put a
cap on the number of competitors next year. In addition, racers will have to
qualify by completing one of several pre-requisite races prior to registration,
which opens in January.
Next year, organizers also hope to host a 65-mile race in
conjunction with the Alabama 650. Paddlers who can finish it in 24 hours will
qualify for the 2020 Alabama 650.
Johnson said he’ll be back and is doing his part to spread the
word. “We’ve got some world-class paddlers who are going to race next year,” he
said. “I personally thought it was the best thought out, well-planned race I’ve
ever been in.”
It was one of the hottest, as well. Alabama recorded record-high
heats for many of the race days, and Johnson felt the effects. “The first eight
miles of that race to the first portage, I overheated and got heat exhaustion
and couldn’t paddle,” he said. “At five or six miles in, my mouth was dry, and
my arms were like lead. Everybody went past me, and it took me 500 miles to
catch Salli.”
Along the way, he had plenty of time to enjoy the solitude, the
views and the wildlife. “I felt like I was in a saltwater aquarium there were
so many fish jumping in front of my boat,” he said. As he got closer to the
Delta area, the fish gave way to alligators. “I saw them one after another
after another after another,” he said.
Despite the mental and physical exhaustion, Johnson said he never
thought about giving up. “I have an 8-year-old daughter, and I would never come
back to her and say that I quit,” he said. “You’ll never know anything about
yourself if you quit. If you don’t push through that wall of misery or pain,
you’ll never know what you can actually achieve. Our human bodies are only
stopped by our minds, that’s it.”
Rock & Rolling, high flying, surfer judge hits the waves
Story by Carol Pappas Photos by Graham Hadley
Most weekdays, you’ll find him donning a black robe, gavel in
hand, poised to rule in a court case. In those somber surroundings, it’s
difficult to imagine what the judge might do for a little R&R.
But after the day’s work is complete, it’s as if Superman has
just stepped into that iconic phone booth. He transforms into one rockin’ and
rollin,’ high flyin,’ lake surfin,’ incredibly cool dude.
Pick your passion. St. Clair County District Judge Alan Furr
does, although you’re never quite sure which one it will be.
Electric guitar in hand, that’s him on a Saturday night, a
natural at leading the band, The Wingnuts. The band got its start in an
airplane hangar in 2010, its members mostly pilots, including Furr. Since then,
they’ve built quite a following, playing oldies and Rock & Roll for
audiences across the region.
That might be enough to keep most busy, but not Furr. He’s
made the cockpit selfie with wife Sandra locally famous on Facebook. It’s not
uncommon to see the Furr’s take to the skies for short hops and long treks.
His
newest past-time adventure puts him and Sandra out on their beloved Logan
Martin Lake, a stone’s throw from their home on Cropwell Creek. They’re not
quite hanging 10, they admit, but to them, it’s close. At 60-something, they’re
nothing short of inspiring with their wake surfing prowess.
“Sandra
and I bought our first board and started learning to wake surf around 2010, but
we didn’t have a good surf boat, so the learning was difficult,” Furr said.
“Consequently, we both primarily stayed with slalom skiing, and I also rode a
wakeboard. Now that we are in our mid-60s, we figured we needed to concentrate
on a ‘milder’ form of water sport.”
In
2015, they bought a MasterCraft NXT20, which is designed for wake surfing. “So, for the past couple of years we’ve been
surfing on Logan Martin,” he said. It requires a boat that is set up with a
“surf system” and ballast, a wake-surf board, and “the willingness to give it a
try.”
How it works
So
what does it take to wake surf? When a boat moves through the water, it creates
a wake. When the hull of the boat displaces the water, it goes back to where it
previously was.
That
constant flow of water creates a constant wave, and the surfer trails behind
the boat on its wake without actually being pulled by the boat.
You
get up on the wake with a special board and tow rope, similar to skiing, but
that’s where the similarity stops. When the rope gives some slack, it’s time to
drop the rope and go wake surfin’ with the Furrs.
Let’s go surFin’ now…
Sandra
goes first. With the board parallel, and her heels atop the side, she waits for
the start. He throttles the boat, and up she pops, giving a twist and allowing
the board to get perpendicular with the back of the boat.
Once
the driver tightens the rope and gives it a little bit of throttle, the water
behind the board pushes the board up, and you just stand up.
Only
a few feet behind the boat, she concentrates on the wake, her balance and
finding the “sweet spot.”
“You’re
trying to get a speed on the board that matches the speed of the boat,” Furr
explains. “You find that sweet spot that matches the speed with the boat.”
“And
when you can feel it,” Sandra adds, “you can actually feel the wave pushing
you. It’s the coolest feeling, and when you feel it, you know it.”
She
hits the sweet spot, and she drops the rope. Then, it’s like watching the old
Beach Boys tune, Surfin’ Safari, in motion.
Everybody’s learning how…
Before
getting a special boat, “we fooled around for a year or two,” learning what to
do, Furr said. “We could get up and hold the rope, but we couldn’t get slack.
This boat is what really made the difference, and also that board.”
They
transitioned to the new boat, and that’s when it all started coming together
for them. “I always thought I’d like to surf, but this is as close as I’ll ever
get to it,” he said.
He
went a step further, pointing out the benefits of his brand of surfing. “First,
there are no sharks.” In ocean surfing, you must swim out on your board. “With
this one, you just start the motor.”
The
Furrs haven’t tried those fancy moves yet, like the Fire Hydrant and 360s, but
there are plenty on Logan Martin who do, he said.
To
which, Sandra quickly retorted, “Yeah, but they’re not 63 and 64.” For the time being the Furr’s will stick to
“carving” the wake, although conquering the 360 is on their bucket list.
“A
lot of people are getting into it. We just chose it because we’re getting older
and wanted something to do – a little more low impact,” Furr said.
“There are several wake surfers here in Cropwell Creek,” he
added, “and I’m sure there are many all over the lake. We are by no means the
best…but we’re probably the oldest.”
Story by Elaine Hobson Miller Photos by Mike Callahan Submitted photos
One night, artist
Joy Varnell was up late watching television when she stumbled upon a show about
beach weddings. As the camera panned the California venue, she spotted an
artist among the guests, paint brush in hand and canvas on easel. Intrigued,
she recorded the show, then played it several more times. Realizing he was
painting the wedding scene, she said to herself, “I think I can do that.”
The problem was,
she didn’t know how to get started.
That issue was
soon resolved when she walked into the home of a friend/client and spotted a
wedding invitation on her kitchen counter. “The client mentioned that she
wanted to give the wedding couple something unique, and I suggested that I go
to the wedding and paint a picture,” Joy said. “She agreed, and when I got back
to my car, I thought, ‘What have I done?’ ”
What she did was
create a new twist in her artistic career, one that eventually caused her to
dump her day job and paint 40 hours a week. She attends weddings and
receptions, capturing special moments on canvas. After eight years, that twist
has resulted in more than 300 paintings, taken her and her husband all over the
United States, and made a lot of brides happy.
Joy started
drawing as a child and painting as a teenager. She studied interior designat
Southern Institute (which later became Phillips College) and worked as a
kitchen designer for 16 years before striking out on her own to do interior
design and faux finishes — a lot of faux finishes.
During all those
years, she was painting in her spare time and selling her work. Her husband,
Tim, kept encouraging her to spend more hours at her easel. Then came that
first wedding, a huge event at the Birmingham Museum of Art. She painted the
bridal couple descending the stairs for the reception, and in a newspaper
article about the wedding, the bridegroom mentioned that her painting was his
favorite gift. From there, her new venture took wings.
“This got bigger and bigger and just took over, and I quit
doing interior design,” she said. The transition from landscapes, pet portraits
and still life to painting people was a struggle at first, but Joy has a knack
for looking at something and being able to paint it. Soon, she was painting
weekdays and attending one or two weddings on the weekends. Now, it’s a full-time
business. “I did 48 paintings in 2018,” said Joy, who calls herself a
“live-event artist.”
Her modus operandi is to show up about three hours before the
event, usually wearing a black dress or pants, to start painting the
background. “The vendors usually dress in black, so I do, too,” she explained.
The most popular request is to capture the bride and groom’s first dance, so
she usually sets up at the reception. When the guests come in, she’s ready to
paint them into the scene. When the wedding couple appears, she adds them to
the painting.
She tries to get a good likeness of the bride and groom, but
not the people in the background. Most of them can be recognized by what
they’re wearing. She uses the term, “most,” but brides and their mothers are
much more specific than that. “The details of the people in the painting
are amazing,” said Pamela Rhodes, mother of a bride who married in Addis,
Louisiana. “Joy painted my daughter and son-in-law’s first dance as husband and
wife (Peyton and Sean Forestier). We are able to identify every person painted,
even the guy singing on the stage (my brother-in-law).”
“The Creator of the Universe certainly shines through Joy’s
hand,” gushed Jurrita Williams Louie of Dallas, Texas, who got
married in Tuscaloosa, her and her husband’s hometown. “She captured our first
dance as Mr. and Mrs. Calvin Louie as if God came down from heaven to earth to
do it. I can’t quite get over the detail and thoughtfulness with each stroke.”
Joy’s medium is acrylicsbecause they have no odor and
dry quickly. “I have to work very fast, so at least the couple can see
themselves before they leave,” she said. “People come up and say, ‘It looks
just like them,’ as if they are surprised. Well, that’s the point.” As for
mistakes, she just paints over them.
At the time she started, she found only four artists doing
what she does. Three were in California, one in New York. There are many more
now, but she believes the examples on her website, joyvarnellart.com, and her willingness to travel make her stand out. Her new business
has taken her to California, New York, Indiana, Florida, Louisiana and along
the Gulf Coast, Georgia and up and down the East Coast as well.
“I average about 12-15 weddings around the New Orleans area
and south Louisiana each year,” she said. One such event took place at the
restored art deco Lakefront Airport terminal in New Orleans. “It was my
daughter, Celeste’s, wedding to Don Jude,” said Claudine Hope’Perret. “It was
their first dance, and the painting shows amazing work and detail, even down to
their lit-up tennis shoes.”
No one has ever expressed a dislike of her paintings, though
she did have a girl ask her to re-do the groom’s hair once. “I strive very hard
to get what they want,” she said.
Tim, who is retired from the Norfolk Southern Railroad, goes
to the weddings with Joy and does most of the driving. Anything over 500 miles,
they fly. He packs up her paints and tools at home, unpacks and sets up at the
venue, then repacks. “He calls himself my roadie,” she said. “He’s my public
relations man, too. He mingles.”
Some of the brides are nervous, and others just very excited
and enjoying their day. The grooms are always nervous, and usually say, “Where
do you want me?” Kids just stand and stare.
The most common request she gets while painting is, “Will you
take 10 (or 20) pounds off me?” That often comes from the mother of the bride.
“Sometimes a woman will come up and talk to me because she’s afraid to talk to
Joy,” Tim said. “One woman asked if Joy would take off her stomach and give her
some boobs.” A man might ask her to cover a bald spot.
Sometimes Joy adds details that represent something
meaningful to the couple. Once, she painted a map rolled out to represent a
treasure hunt, because that’s how the groom led the bride to her ring and his
proposal. She has painted favorite dogs, relatives who couldn’t attend, even
dead relatives into the paintings. She has put cats in, too. “Very often the
venue will have one, and I’ll paint it peeping through a window,” she said.
Occasionally she’ll give the bride a brush and let her paint a few strokes of
her own.
She has painted outdoors in all types of weather, from
35-degree temperatures on New Year’s Eve to 95-degrees in the sun. She prefers
the reception to the ceremony because it’s less structured, and she gets to
interact with the people. “That’s part of what makes it fun,” she said.
One of her most memorable events was a Hindu wedding in
Indiana. The bride wanted her to paint the Seven Vows, but she didn’t know what
they were or where they occurred in the ceremony, which was four hours long.
She kept asking people, and no one seemed to know. Parts of the ceremony were
in English, parts in Hindi, and it turned out that the Seven Vows were at the
end. Tim found out and clued her in.
An outdoor wedding in Biloxi,Mississippi, was notable
because a storm came up and sent many guests inside. The bridal party remained
outside, and at the end of ceremony, the couple was framed by a rainbow.
There was one in Fort Deposit they’ll never forget, either,
but for a very different reason. “When we got out of the car there, we realized
we had left my paints at home,” Joy recalled. They carry an emergency set,
which has been upgraded as a result of that trip.
She hates having to tell people she is already booked for
their special date, and has painted two events in one day, as much as 90 miles
apart. One time, she got two separate bookings for the same wedding, at
Aldridge Gardens in Hoover. “The bride’s mother had contacted me and asked for
a painting of the couple’s first dance,” she said. “Then I got another request
for the same wedding. The bride wanted one of the father-daughter dance to give
to her parents. Neither knew about the other’s request.” She had two canvases
on her easel throughout the reception and kept swapping them back and forth so
neither party would know about the other. The backgrounds were the same. “The
bride’s mother began to catch on, but the dad never did,” Joy said. “I presented
both paintings at the end.”
Sometimes she finishes a painting on site but brings home
most of them so she can apply an art varnish as a protective sealer. Her studio
is a sunny 11’ x1 2’ room of her house, with a huge front-facing window. She
and Tim have lived in that house on a mountain top in Springville for 12 years,
surrounded by rock formations, trees and lots of wildlife. Deer and turkey
wander around the property, along with a family of foxes that they feed daily.
The house is filled with Joy’s still-life paintings, such as wine bottles so
real you want to grab one and pour a drink.
Jessica Silvers Posey of Maryland, who married Aaron Posey in
Laurel, Delaware, said Joy painted the most beautiful picture of the couple’s
first dance. “The details are phenomenal,” she said. “I relive that moment
every time I look at the painting. Everyone who walks past this painting in our
house can’t help but stop and stare.”
While mothers, parents, bridesmaids, co-workers and grooms
hire her to paint as a gift, most of the time it’s the brides who engage her
services.
She offers three standard sizes, 18” x 24”, 24” x 30” and 30”
x 36”. Clients may choose something larger but cannot choose whether the
finished product will be vertical or horizontal. “I decide that, depending upon
the venue and what I want to get in the painting,” Joy said. The largest one
she has done was 42” x 48”. Her prices start at $1,000, plus travel expenses if
she goes outside the Birmingham Metro area.
Although 99 percent of her business comes from weddings, she
has painted at Christmas parties, company anniversaries and fundraisers. One of
her corporate events was the opening of Nick Saban’s Mercedes-Benz dealership
on I-459. And yes, the coach was there.
Even though she doesn’t normally turn down an event unless
she is already booked, she did refuse to paint at one recent wedding. Her own
daughter was the bride, the wedding took place at Joy and Tim’s house, and Joy
wanted to relax as much as possible and enjoy it.
“I
will paint it later from photographs,” she said.
“This got bigger and bigger and just took
over, and I quit doing interior design,” she said. The transition from landscapes,
pet portraits and still life to painting people was a struggle at first, but
Joy has a knack for looking at something and being able to paint it. Soon, she
was painting weekdays and attending one or two weddings on the weekends. Now,
it’s a full-time
business. “I did 48
paintings in 2018,” said Joy, who
calls herself a “live-event
artist.”
Her modus operandi is to show up
about three hours before the event, usually wearing a black dress or pants, to
start painting the background. “The vendors usually dress in black, so I do, too,” she explained. The most popular
request is to capture the bride and groom’s first dance, so she usually
sets up at the reception. When the guests come in, she’s ready to paint them into the
scene. When the wedding couple appears, she adds them to the painting.
She tries to get a good likeness
of the bride and groom, but not the people in the background. Most of them can
be recognized by what they’re wearing. She uses the term, “most,” but brides and their mothers
are much more specific than that. “The details of the people in the
painting are amazing,” said Pamela Rhodes, mother of a bride who married in
Addis, Louisiana. “Joy painted my daughter and son-in-law’s first dance as husband and
wife (Peyton and Sean Forestier). We are able to identify every person painted,
even the guy singing on the stage (my brother-in-law).”
“The Creator of the Universe
certainly shines through Joy’s hand,” gushed Jurrita Williams Louie of Dallas, Texas, who got
married in Tuscaloosa, her and her husband’s hometown. “She captured our first dance as
Mr. and Mrs. Calvin Louie as if God came down from heaven to earth to do it. I
can’t
quite get over the detail and thoughtfulness with each stroke.”
Joy’s medium is acrylicsbecause
they have no odor and dry quickly. “I have to work very fast, so at
least the couple can see themselves before they leave,” she said. “People come up and say, ‘It looks just like them,’ as if they are surprised. Well,
that’s
the point.”
As for mistakes, she just paints over them.
At the time she started, she
found only four artists doing what she does. Three were in California, one in
New York. There are many more now, but she believes the examples on her
website, joyvarnellart.com, and her willingness to travel make her stand out. Her new business
has taken her to California, New York, Indiana, Florida, Louisiana and along
the Gulf Coast, Georgia and up and down the East Coast as well.
“I average about 12-15 weddings
around the New Orleans area and south Louisiana each year,” she said. One such event took place at the restored
art deco Lakefront Airport terminal in New Orleans. “It was my daughter, Celeste’s, wedding to Don Jude,” said Claudine Hope’Perret. “It was their first dance, and
the painting shows amazing work and detail, even down to their lit-up tennis
shoes.”
No one has ever expressed a
dislike of her paintings, though she did have a girl ask her to re-do the groom’s hair once. “I strive very hard to get what
they want,” she said.
Tim, who is retired from the
Norfolk Southern Railroad, goes to the weddings with Joy and does most of the
driving. Anything over 500 miles, they fly. He packs up her paints and tools at
home, unpacks and sets up at the venue, then repacks. “He calls himself my roadie,” she said. “He’s my public relations man, too. He mingles.”
Some of the brides are nervous,
and others just very excited and enjoying their day. The grooms are always
nervous, and usually say, “Where do you want me?” Kids just stand and stare.
The most common request she gets
while painting is, “Will you take 10 (or 20) pounds
off me?” That often comes from the
mother of the bride. “Sometimes a woman will come up
and talk to me because she’s afraid to talk to Joy,” Tim said. “One woman asked if Joy would
take off her stomach and give her some boobs.” A man might ask her to cover a
bald spot.
Sometimes Joy adds details that
represent something meaningful to the couple. Once, she painted a map rolled
out to represent a treasure hunt, because that’s how the groom led the bride to
her ring and his proposal. She has painted favorite dogs, relatives who couldn’t attend, even dead relatives into the paintings. She
has put cats in, too. “Very often the venue will have
one, and I’ll paint it peeping through a
window,” she said. Occasionally she’ll give the bride a brush and let her paint a few
strokes of her own.
She has painted outdoors in all
types of weather, from 35-degree temperatures on New Year’s Eve to 95-degrees in the sun. She prefers the
reception to the ceremony because it’s less structured, and she gets
to interact with the people. “That’s part of what makes it fun,” she said.
One of her most memorable events
was a Hindu wedding in Indiana. The bride wanted her to paint the Seven Vows,
but she didn’t know what they were or where
they occurred in the ceremony, which was four hours long. She kept asking
people, and no one seemed to know. Parts of the ceremony were in English, parts
in Hindi, and it turned out that the Seven Vows were at the end. Tim found out
and clued her in.
An outdoor wedding in Biloxi,Mississippi, was notable because a storm came up and sent many guests
inside. The bridal party remained outside, and at the end of ceremony, the
couple was framed by a rainbow.
There was one in Fort Deposit
they’ll never forget, either, but for
a very different reason. “When we got out of the car
there, we realized we had left my paints at home,” Joy recalled. They carry an emergency set, which has
been upgraded as a result of that trip.
She hates having to tell people
she is already booked for their special date, and has painted two events in one
day, as much as 90 miles apart. One time, she got two separate bookings for the
same wedding, at Aldridge Gardens in Hoover. “The bride’s mother had contacted me and asked for a painting of
the couple’s first dance,” she said. “Then I got another request for
the same wedding. The bride wanted one of the father-daughter dance to give to
her parents. Neither knew about the other’s request.” She had two canvases on her easel throughout the
reception and kept swapping them back and forth so neither party would know
about the other. The backgrounds were the same. “The bride’s mother began to catch on, but the dad never did,” Joy said. “I presented both paintings at
the end.”
Sometimes she finishes a
painting on site but brings home most of them so she can apply an art varnish
as a protective sealer. Her studio is a sunny 11’ x1 2’ room of her house, with a huge front-facing window.
She and Tim have lived in that house on a mountain top in Springville for 12
years, surrounded by rock formations, trees and lots of wildlife. Deer and
turkey wander around the property, along with a family of foxes that they feed
daily. The house is filled with Joy’s still-life paintings, such as
wine bottles so real you want to grab one and pour a drink.
Jessica Silvers Posey of Maryland,
who married Aaron Posey in Laurel, Delaware, said Joy painted the most
beautiful picture of the couple’s first dance. “The details are phenomenal,” she said. “I relive that moment every time
I look at the painting. Everyone who walks past this painting in our house can’t help but stop and stare.”
While mothers, parents,
bridesmaids, co-workers and grooms hire her to paint as a gift, most of the
time it’s the brides who engage her
services.
She offers three standard sizes,
18” x 24”, 24” x 30” and 30” x 36”. Clients may choose something larger but cannot
choose whether the finished product will be vertical or horizontal. “I decide that, depending upon the venue and what I
want to get in the painting,” Joy said. The largest one she
has done was 42” x 48”. Her prices start at $1,000, plus travel expenses if
she goes outside the Birmingham Metro area.
Although 99 percent of her
business comes from weddings, she has painted at Christmas parties, company
anniversaries and fundraisers. One of her corporate events was the opening of
Nick Saban’s Mercedes-Benz dealership on
I-459. And yes, the coach was there.
Even though she doesn’t normally turn down an event unless she is already
booked, she did refuse to paint at one recent wedding. Her own daughter was the
bride, the wedding took place at Joy and Tim’s house, and Joy wanted to relax
as much as possible and enjoy it.
“I will paint it later from photographs,” she said.
Impact on state and St. Clair continues upward climb
Story and Photos by Carol Pappas Photos contributed from Honda
Its Alabama beginnings came in a code word: “Bingo.” That was the
name of the secret project that brought five counties together in an
unparalleled partnership to locate Honda Manufacturing of Alabama in the tiny
town of Lincoln.
While the leaders of any one of those counties would have
celebrated its location within their own borders, they realized the potential
impact on the entire region – their constituencies readily included.
So, they went to work to lure the Japanese automobile manufacturer
to a land where ‘y’all’ eventually became ‘us.’ And 20 years later, that impact
those counties dreamed of is unmistakably real.
In a five-county ‘thank you’ tour of Calhoun, Etowah, Jefferson,
St. Clair and Talladega counties, Honda Manufacturing of Alabama and the Economic Development
Partnership of Alabama unveiled the latest economic impact results from the
plant itself and its Key Tier 1 Suppliers.
By the numbers, that’s a $12 billion annual economic impact on
Alabama, providing 45,000 jobs and amounting to 5.4 percent of the Gross State
Product of Alabama.
How does that stack up in St. Clair County? Just add it up: 2,069
total jobs generated; $145.4 million in total earnings and $2.8 million in
local sales taxes.
“There is no doubt about Honda’s impact on St. Clair County,” said
St. Clair Economic Development Council Executive Director Don Smith. He points
to real life examples, like the Honda suppliers who have expanded – and
expanded again.
“The Honda location has been an incredible project for this area
but not just in the thousands of high paying jobs or the billions in economic
impact,” Smith added. “The project brought the communities in this region
together and showed the impact of regional cooperation. The success of
this project helped provide the leaders in St. Clair County the blueprint for the
EDC on communities working together countywide for the benefit of all their
citizens. It’s been a great success story.”
The employment figures underscore the successes felt in St. Clair
County. Honda employs more than 600 St. Clair Countians, making it the largest
employer in the county that isn’t actually located in the county.
Jason Goodgame, vice president of Goodgame Co., tells his own
real-life example. Goodgame Co. is now in the top 20 of largest general
contractors in Alabama. He once likened it to the centerpiece of a commercial
for Honda. “Honda took a small, family-owned company and made us into what we
are today.”
Similar success stories have played out all over the region and
state, said Steve Sewell, executive vice president of EDPA, who worked with efforts
to bring Honda to Alabama from the beginning.
Projections back then versus reality now:
6,800
jobs projected statewide – 45,000 actual jobs created so far
$186
million payroll projected – $1.3 billion in actual earnings to Alabama
households
$2.1 billion
direct and indirect impact income – $12 billion actual impact
Bringing the numbers closer to home, Sewell cited projections
versus reality for St. Clair County:
760 jobs
forecast – more than 2,000 filled
$5.9
million in earnings predicted – more than $145 million earned
$164,000
expected in new tax revenue – more than $2.8 million collected
Eighteen years after production began, Sewell said, “It has been a
phenomenal success story beyond anyone’s expectations.”
Goat Yoga more than just a craze for Springville couple and their farm
Story by Carol Pappas
Photos by Kelsey Bain
Make the turn
off Springville’s Shanghai Road into CareDan Farm and it’s as if you have
entered a magical world where animals rule, and the rest of us are lucky enough
to be part if it – if only for a day.
The gang’s
all there: Nigerian Dwarf goats Charlotte, Rose, Rosebud, twins Spur and Kid
Rock and two new babies, Peanut and Cashew. There’s Rooster and Daisy, the
horses, of course, and a lovable pig named Pancake. Talk about free range, the
chickens meander around these parts to their hearts’ content while ducks splash
playfully in a nearby puddle.
It’s just
another day at the farm for them, but for those arriving by the carload, it’s
an experience they won’t soon forget.
And that’s
precisely the point, say Danny and Caren Davidson, who open up their
Springville farm to young and old, friends, family and strangers from near and
far, curious about a thing called goat yoga.
“It’s fun
when people come out and do things they don’t typically do,” says Caren, who
calls their fledgling business, My Farm Day, the perfect moniker, adds
Danny. “Whether it’s fishing, riding horses, playing with the goats, we wanted
people to have a ‘my farm day’ for them.”
Their first
venture in providing that personalized farm experience is a craze sweeping the
country, goat yoga. And on a summer Saturday morning, the rain didn’t seem to
dampen the spirit of the day. Quite the opposite. Guests headed to the barn for
shelter, where yoga mats and a menagerie of four-legged hosts awaited.
Certified
yoga instructor Nancy Hunter of Springville explains her foray into today’s
goat variety of this ancient practice. Caren had seen a post on Facebook about
Nancy’s Yoga classes in Springville and at her studio in Oneonta.
Caren called
and asked if she would be interested in teaching Yoga with goats, and Nancy
said ‘Yes, I’m game. I’ll try it.’
“Caren is so
amazing,” Nancy says. “These are her children,” she adds, motioning to the
goats – old and new – the horses nearby, the baby chicks just introduced into
the class (much to the delight of its students) and a host of other animals
making up the zoo-like atmosphere.
In the beginning …
It wasn’t always like this – a farm couple
just working and sharing the land. They were from the big city.
But her
grandparents had a farm in Tennessee when she was growing up. “I fell in love
with the farm and the animals.” Charlotte, one of the goats, is named for her
grandmother.
Danny and
Caren grew up in Vestavia Hills and graduated from Vestavia High, dated at Ole
Miss and married.
He served in
the Army in San Antonio for a few years, and they moved back to Alabama when he
finished service.
They bought
property across from Matthews Manor and lived there for nine years in Argo. “I
love to be outdoors,” Caren says. “He loves to build stuff. We moved in with
some dogs and within a year, we added horses and a couple of more dogs. Our
dream was more land and more animals.”
They found what
they were looking for – the house with 69 acres bordering Little Canoe Creek –
in Springville. “When we pulled in the driveway, four chicks came running out
to meet us,” Caren recalls. “I thought, ‘I’m sold. This is awesome.’”
“We bought a
tractor and few other things, and that’s how we got here.”
By day, Danny
is about to begin a new job teaching Algebra at Moody High School. Caren is
director of human resources at a Birmingham law firm.
“Because we
grew up in the city, we didn’t know much about farm life. Fortunately,
we’ve had some great neighbors and friends who have taught us a lot about barn
and fence building, drainage, pond maintenance, etc.,” Caren explains.
“What we
didn’t learn from them, we learned from books or YouTube. Our master
shower is frequently turned into an infirmary for injured chickens and
ducks. We continue to learn most everything the hard way, but because it’s
just the two of us, we have a lot of fun living the ‘farm life,’ which is a big
departure from our ‘regular life.’”
The Davidsons
don’t have children, but they have a very close family with lots of cousins,
nieces, nephews who enjoy ‘Farm Days’ at Uncle Danny and Aunt Caren’s farm,
hence the name, CareDan Farm. “Farm Days,” she says, “consist of riding horses,
playing in the creek, fishing, gathering eggs from the coop, riding 4-wheelers,
Gator rides, canoeing, hitting floating golf balls into the pond and whatever
other activities Danny dreams up. Evenings on the farm generally involve
more fishing, campfires, watching football and listening to music on the back
porch.”
On the farm,
Danny’s job at first was that of goat wrangler. He is self-proclaimed “head
goat wrangler,” and has a name tag to prove it.
He’s the one
always bringing home the goats. She’s more practical. The night before this
class, he brought home two more without telling her. But she couldn’t resist,
it was easy to see, as she held them like babies, bottle fed them and sported a
never-ending smile as they frolicked among the yoga guests in the barn.
The driving force
The genesis
of this day, where smiles, laughter and squeals of excitement are quickly
becoming tradition, came from an unlikely source – a tragedy involving Caren’s
father, Dr. Cary Petry. He had suffered from depression and anxiety for years
and sadly took his own life in 2017.
“The couple
of years leading up to that event were quite stressful, as I tried to provide
my dad with encouragement, support and different treatment options. After
his death, I found myself just going through the motions most weeks. I’d
spend all my energy during the week trying to do my job, and I’d use the
weekends on our farm for quiet time in hopes of recharging for the next
week. Being outdoors, surrounded by all of God’s amazing creations, was
the medicine I needed, but it was still just a repetitious cycle week after
week.”
On a Sunday
morning a year ago, her mother called as Danny and Caren were walking out the
door to church. “She told me to turn on the news because there was a story
coming on about a lady in Oregon who held goat yoga classes on her farm. I
watched the story and couldn’t stop thinking about the satisfaction she had
gained by sharing her farm and love for goats with others. I wondered if I
could regain some happiness, and perhaps help others, by sharing my farm and
animals with others.”
When she took
the next step and called Nancy, “Surprisingly, Nancy had actually
participated in a goat yoga class and was eager to try teaching one. So,
for my 46th birthday, I invited a few close friends and family to attend a goat
yoga birthday party at the farm. I figured they wouldn’t turn me down
since it was my birthday. I had never done yoga before, but I was excited
to combine so many things I love into one activity – friends, family, animals,
outdoors and some much-needed exercise.
“The goats
kept escaping the temporary fence we had hastily put up and didn’t seem too
interested in the yoga, but it was fun nonetheless.”
They
experimented with two more classes that fall before deciding to get serious about
it. “Well, as serious as you can get about goat yoga,” Caren adds. “I felt
like goat yoga was the perfect way for me to share our farm with other people
who may be in need of some laughter and a break from their stressful
lives.”
Where there’s a will …
“In January
2019, our two goat mommas, Charlotte and Rose, had three kids: Spur, Kid Rock
and Rosebud. And in March, My Farm Day hosted its first official goat yoga
class with our five goats. Since then, we’ve had classes nearly every
Saturday morning.” Classes are limited to 12 people because the goat to
human ratio is critical to participant’s enjoyment of the activity.
With the
emotions of her father’s passing still fresh, “I got excited about it. It was
something we could focus on and find a way to let other people enjoy the farm.
It’s a different concept. It’s silly. It lets you forget about all your
troubles for a while. Life is tough. If you can take a few minutes to do
something you don’t always do, that’s fun.”
She talks of
mental health issues as an epidemic facing the country and sees the farm as a
means of coping. “It’s hard to get the help you need. I want to help people
laugh. That makes me happy.”
The years
leading up to her father’s death “were really rough for us. Every weekend, I
would be here and recharge. It made me feel better to be with the animals.”
Her father
was an animal lover and when he was at the farm with his dog, Rowdy, his rare
smile would appear and is a memory she savors. It is also a memory that sparked
the adventure Caren and Danny are now on. And Rowdy now acts as greeter,
escorting guests up and down the drive.
What’s in a name
They decided
to name the business “My Farm Day” with the idea that “everyone needed ‘their’
day on the farm, just like when we had family out for impromptu farm
days. We figured we’d start My Farm Day with a little goat yoga, and maybe
later, expand it to include other activities like fly-fishing lessons, barnyard
parties, etc.,” she explains.
Goat yoga is
the first real leg of that journey. And so far, the reviews have visitors
coming back for more.
As the class
gets under way on this particular Saturday, Caren and Danny place the newest
baby goats on the backs of the participants who could hardly stifle non-stop
giggles with the little ones prancing around, eventually leaping off as if the
back were a high dive.
The newest
goat crew will make their debut in yoga class in a few months. They are partial
to crawling atop a human back or two or across their stomach as they lie
motionless except for the full body stretch they are attempting.
“The older
goats now are like teenagers. They have a mind of their own,” Danny said as the
older goats wandered around the yoga class, going underneath, over and around
outstretched bodies, occasionally pausing for a snack of hedges and vines
nearby. Most did manage a snuggle or two with their human guests, enticing more
than a few pets, hugs and rubs behind the ear from them.
One family
arrived as part of a surprise for Jimmy Waldrop for Father’s Day. “He loves
goats, but we live in the city limits (of Hueytown), and we can’t have them,”
said Waldrop’s wife, Dana. He had mentioned he wanted to start yoga, and when
she saw My Farm Day’s goat yoga, “it was perfect.”
Waldrop, a
nurse at UAB, enjoyed his Father’s Day surprise outing. “I like getting out in
a farm atmosphere, and I like goats. I don’t know why, I just do.”
Lana Clayton
of Ashville is a return guest. “I fell in love with it, and I came back again
and again.”
Farm living is the life for them
“Danny and I
have had so much fun and met so many wonderful people during goat yoga
classes. We love it because it allows us to spend time outdoors together,
with our animals, while sharing our love of nature with others,” Caren
concludes.
“People who
don’t typically interact with farm animals, get a small dose of farm life,
while getting in some terrific stretching and exercise. Nancy loves
teaching the class because it introduces yoga to people who may not otherwise
try a yoga class in a traditional setting.”
Participants
are encouraged to laugh and take pictures throughout class. “As we say,
‘It’s a little bit of yoga and a whole lot of goat.’”
After class
Caren and Danny help people pose for pictures with the goats. “Sometimes
we have chickens join the class, and our pig, Pancake, has been known to shove
her way in to the ‘yoga studio’ for a little attention. Every class
is different, so it’s fun ‘work’ for us.”
Underneath a
sign that appropriately says, Attitude is everything. Pick a good one, a
table of wares displays Caren-designed goat yoga t-shirts and hats. Even the
fresh eggs they sell have their own stamp on it – Laid With Love – a
creation by Danny.
“But it’s not about making money,” Caren says,
“it’s about giving people an experience that’s a break from ‘normal’
life.” As one participant told her, “I found today that baby goats are the
cure for nearly anything.”
So, what’s
next for this farm-loving, farm-sharing couple? “It is our goal to later, when
we retire, use our farm in ways to help people who are hurting,” Caren
said. “Goat yoga is just our first baby step.”
Editor’s note:More information about the farm and goat yoga is at myfarmday.com.
Rodney Tucker
and Billy Connelly wanted a relaxing retreat, a place to get away from the
hustle and bustle of downtown Birmingham and their high-pressure jobs at UAB
Hospital. In all the years they have been together, they have never built
something new, but always renovated. When an internet search turned up a small
1980s cabin at the end of its own cul-de-sac in Odenville a few years ago, they
didn’t waste any time taking a look.
What they found
was a 900-square-foot box with a wrap-around porch, a stick-built house
masquerading as a cabin by hiding under log siding. What they saw was
potential.
“It ended up
being a total redo,” says Tucker. “Our contractor, James Wyatt (Wyatt
Construction), took it down to the studs. We extended it a little bit and
enclosed some areas of the porch.”
“Extended it a
little bit” meant adding 700 square feet. Wyatt removed all but one interior
wall, pushed a couple of outside walls a little further out, enclosed parts of
the porch to create an entry hall at the front and a gallery at the back, and
added a large, asymmetrical screened porch on one side. What was once a
two-bedroom house with two tiny bathrooms now has a large master bedroom and
two guest rooms, two large baths, a laundry room and the aforementioned gallery
and entry hall. As for the log siding, he replaced that with a fiber cement
siding.
“Farmhouse
chic” best describes the Tucker-Connelly house today. It’s filled with doors,
furniture and decor fashioned from repurposed wood and metal. Most of the
furniture was made by Stray Cats of Birmingham, while all the built-ins, such
as the kitchen cabinets, were built by Joe Dickert of Big Rock Cabinets in
Springville. Working with architect Bob Burns, Tucker, a palliative care
physician, designed the “new” 1600-square-foot house (plus porches).
The section of
the porch that formerly spanned the front of the house is now divided into anentryway with separate porches on either side. To the left and right of the
entrance are the only two sections of the original porch that weren’t screened,
glassed or incorporated into the house. On the left is the “cantina,” an
outdoor overflow space for guests when the larger, asymmetrical screened porch
gets crowded. The cantina is so named because its two tables have tops made
from old tin Corona beer signs. A
vintage, functional, circular Old Crown Beer thermometer hangs in the cantina
area.
James Wyatt
removed a wall to open up the living-dining area, turning it into one large
room. The living room portion has a coffee table, credenza and end table made
from reclaimed wood pallets. An Arthur Price oil painting of an old log cabin
hangs on one of the walls.
“We replaced
the dilapidated fireplace with Bessemer gray brick, and the new oak mantel is
from an old mission-style house in Chattanooga,” Tucker says. “Only the leather
sofa and love seat in here are new.”
Stray Cats made
the 3.5 x 8-foot kitchen island, topping it with zinc-coated stainless steel.
The cabinets are a dark-stained oak, while the all-electric appliances include
a double wall-oven, a glass stove top and a French-door refrigerator with four
drawers. Tucker and Connelly chose quartz countertops because they look like
marble. “We would have preferred marble, but it stains easily,” Connelly says.
Tucked into one
end of the kitchen, opposite the refrigerator and ovens, is Tucker’s pride and
joy: a bar. Its tin ceiling came from the roof of an old Victorian house in
North Carolina, while its chandelier used to hang in Rodney’s parents’ house in
Gadsden.
Underneath the
countertop are a wine or beverage cooler and an ice maker. The shelves over the
bar house Tucker’s collection of about 1,000 pieces of
barware, including wine and cocktail glasses, cocktail and martini shakers. The
etched ship decanters probably belonged to sea captains at one time. “We have
enough shakers to allow each guest to make his own drink, if we weren’t
concerned with breakage,” Tucker says.
On a narrow,
inset wall between the bar and the living room is a vintage slot machine
perched atop a church pedestal that looks like a pastor’s lectern.
“Oh, the irony,” Tucker says.
At the back of
the house, behind the kitchen, is the gallery that Wyatt fashioned by enclosing
that portion of the wrap-around porch. Tucker and Connelly refer to it as a
gallery because that’s where much of their extensive pottery collection is
housed. Displayed in a Dutch mission-style cabinet, it includes creamware and
pieces by Weller and by Roseville.
A king
headboard of repurposed bead-board dominates the master bedroom, but also
notable are the side tables and a chest of drawers made of recycled tin ceiling
tiles and a mission-style chair and desk. The banjo propped in one corner
belonged to Tucker’s grandfather. That bathroom has new floor tiles that look
like old, gray wood. The vanity is made of repurposed wood, too. The walls of
the shower are a wider version of the bedroom’s floor tiles, while river rock
covers the shower floor.
“We tried to
keep everything neutral — earth tones — gray, brown, white beige — so the house
would blend with its surroundings out here,” Tucker says. “We have some pops of
sage green here and there, and the exterior walls are sage green, too. We
wanted the house to be natural and complement the landscape. A modern glass and
metal structure would be out of place here.”
On the opposite
side of the living room and kitchen from the master suite, Wyatt restructured
the original bedroom, bumped its wall out a bit and fashioned two smaller
guest rooms, a short hallway to connect them, a large bathroom and a laundry
room.
One guest room
is dubbed The Hillbilly/Cowboy Room. There’s a large, predominantly red,
pop-art, mixed-media piece of a vintage cowgirl on one wall, an equally
colorful guitar in one corner, and a lamp that has a base of a moonshine jug
with the moonshiner holding on for dear life (Mountain Boy Pottery out of Ohio).
Then, there is
the collection of figurines — animals, hillbillies, outhouses, jugs, etc. —
from the 1940s and ’50s in a nearby cabinet. Hanging rather incongruously in
one corner because nothing else would fit there is a Catholic icon. The upper
portion depicts Mary and Jesus, while a drop-down, hinged door beneath them
would have been used for incense and candles in a good Catholic’s home.
The pack sled
from Switzerland was used as the headboard for that room’s bed at one time, but
now stands against a wall, next to a pair of wooden skis from Germany. The
credenza and end table in that room were manufactured in Bali from wood
reclaimed from boats. “Jamey (James Wyatt) bumped out one wall in here to make
a window seat,” says Connelly, who is vice president of ambulatory services at
The Kirklin Clinic of UAB Hospital. “This is where my mom often sits to quilt
when she comes up.”
Down the hall,
the bathroom doors once opened the entry to a surgery room at an old hospital
in Decatur. “They were hospital green, but we sanded them down and applied wood
sealer,” says Tucker. “Jamey spent a lot
of time getting them to hang evenly and roll smoothly.” The vanity is one of the few manufactured
pieces in the house, but Stray Cats made the mirror. The floor is the same type
of tile as in the master bath, but in a different color. What appears to be a
collection of small cigar-box covers on a board that’s covered with a wax
sealer is the main art piece in this bath.
At the end of
the short hall is another guest room made by enclosing another section of the
wrap-around porch. “Jamie got creative and pushed out a section of the side
wall to create a one-foot-by-ten-foot alcove that gives the room a little
pizzazz,” Tucker says. To save space, Wyatt used pocket doors for the closet in
this room. He enclosed another section of the wrap-around porch to create a
laundry room off this bedroom.
The quilt on
the bed here comes with an interesting background story. Tucker went to an
estate sale and found old fabric squares that were newspaper backed, as if
someone was preparing to piece a quilt. “One of the newspaper pieces dates to
1938,” Connelly says. “My mom finished the quilt in 2018.” More of the couple’s
pottery collection is housed in an antique barber’s cabinet and a mission-style
display cabinet.
When the couple
throws a party, most guests end up on the large, asymmetrical porch on the left
side of the house outside the kitchen-and-bar area. It’s such an inviting room
that you just want to sit down and enjoy the breeze or soak up the woodsy
atmosphere. Guests have a choice of seating here, including a pew from an old
church in Selma that is gone now.
The repurposed
theme is obvious in here, too. There’s a sofa table with a wood top made from
flooring out of an old school in Georgia. The coffee table is actually a 1922
transfer table from a Boston manufacturing company.
One promontory of the porch features a white hutch made of repurposed wood out
of North Carolina. Around the corner, an old Hudson hubcap that probably covered the spare tire on the back of that car
hangs over feed-and-seed signs and a coat rack. It’s next to a white repurposed
glass-front cabinet that was originally built into an old house. “I bought that
cabinet at an antique store,” Tucker says. “I don’t like to refinish the
vintage furniture we find. I sand them down and use a clear sealer.” Over that
cabinet hangs a Hinman Milkers sign, while an
old metal dairy box rests on top of the cabinet. The dairy box bears the name,
“Connelly’s Dairy.”
“We bought that at an antique shop in
Atlanta,” Tucker says. “In the early days of home milk delivery, the bottles
would go into the metal box, and it would hang from a bicycle. I told Billy I
didn’t know his family had a dairy.”
An unusual
mirror hangs over the outdoor or porch sink that Connelly uses to wash the dogs
and pot his house plants. It is a big dot inside a larger tin circle that was
once part of a heater in a chicken house. Speaking of plants, this porch
displays succulents, ferns, begonias, ponytail palm, a shrimp plant and not a
few coleus.
Wyatt recalls
saving only bits and pieces of the house’s original hardwood floors. “I think
all we saved were pieces of the living room and master bedroom,” he says. “The
kitchen was water damaged a little, had some rotten spots, so we put in a new
subfloor there and new hardwood.”
Outside, the
swimming pool required a total redo, too. “It had to be torn out and new
gunnite poured,” Tucker says. “We also built a pool house that carries through
with our unique decor as well.”
Landscaping is
Connelly’s bailiwig, with the help of his mother, who visits about once a week.
Cone flowers, zinnias, black-eyed Susans, petunias and salvia flank the
rock-and-gravel walkway leading to the front door. Nearby are Knock Out roses,
French and snowball hydrangeas, camellias, hostas and
ferns. Japanese maples thrive throughout the property. “I’ve planted lots of
fruit trees and muscadine arbors, lots of native azaleas,” Connelly says. “I’ve
made jelly and wine from the muscadines. Gardening is my therapy.”
Exotic animals
dot the landscape around the property, too. Four monkeys reside in two separate
cages. Another cage houses Patagonian cavies and two
kangaroos. A pasture features a zebra, emus, alpacas, horses, ostriches, sheep
and goats. “I’ve always had exotic animals of some sort,” says Connelly.
“Rodney tolerates them.”
“I love
animals, too, but the volume we have is sometimes overwhelming,” Tucker
confesses.
“You should see
our feed bill,” Connelly adds.
Outdoor
multi-level decks on one side of the driveway provide additional relaxation
space. “They made this space usable,” Connelly says. “One of them replaced an
outdoor dog pen, and another one camouflages the storm
shelter under it.”
Security lights
line the driveway, which winds past a derelict modular home used for storage, a
barn, animal cages and the pasture, where the four-footed creatures are kept.
And a fire hydrant.
“We have our
own fire hydrant,” Tucker says. “It’s the result of the entire 30-acre property
once being zoned for and promoted as a future housing development.”
Although the
house renovations were completed about two years ago, the pair really aren’t
finished with their retreat project. Ultimately, they would like to build a couple
of small, one-room guest cottages.
“This was a large remodeling project,
and we worked shoulder-to-shoulder on the design,” James Wyatt says. “I’ve done
a lot of those in Mountain Brook and Vestavia, and it was good to do such a
high-end remodel right here in St. Clair County.”