Gaston Williamson enjoying life as a professional puppy transporter
Story by Scottie Vickery Photos by Graham Hadley Submitted photos
Gaston Williamson spent most of his career helping to connect consumers with the products and services they wanted. He’s doing much the same thing in retirement, but the process is a lot more fun.
These days, the former regional product manager for UPS is focusing on transporting cute, cuddly, playful puppies to their forever homes and families. He’s a canine courier of sorts, and his reward is lots of puppy kisses and happy smiles.
“The best part is the excitement I see when I make the final delivery, especially with the children,” Williamson said. “It gives me such a thrill to get to see them.”
Gaston holding one of his puppy ‘fares’
Williamson, who lives in Cropwell, was looking for an English Springer Spaniel for his wife, Cynthia, when he met a breeder in Tennessee. They struck up a friendship, and sometimes when Williamson’s work took him nearby, he’d stop in to see the puppies.
“One time I mentioned I was going to be retiring, and the breeder mentioned this and said I should do it,” he said. “She’s the one who got me into it.”
Williamson had helped transport rescue dogs before, so it wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar concept. After hurricanes in Texas and Louisiana in 2017 resulted in a large number of displaced dogs, he became part of a rescue chain made up of volunteers from across the country who helped transport the animals to shelters on the Northeast Coast.
“I’d drive a 100-mile leg and pass the dogs off to someone else,” he said. The process continued until the dogs were ultimately delivered to shelters until they could be reunited with their owners or placed in new homes. “I was still working at the time, but I did that for a couple of years on the weekends,” Williamson said.
That’s why, when he retired in 2021, he became more intrigued with the idea of working with breeders. And now, the name of his Facebook page, Have Puppy Will Travel, pretty much sums up his philosophy these days.
“There’s no telling how many thousands of miles I’ve covered delivering puppies,” he said.
One of two puppies delivered during an 800-mile trip
So why does he do it? “Number one, I love dogs, and I enjoy the puppies,” said Williamson, adding that he and Cynthia have four dogs, three of which are Springer Spaniels. “Also, I get to see a lot of places I’ve never been. I traveled a lot with my job – I traveled eight states – and I wanted to keep traveling as much as I could.”
The experience is a rewarding one, as well. “A lot of times, I deliver to families who have just lost another dog. It just gives me a kick to see the smiles on their faces.”
Williamson, who also is a driver for St. Clair Area Transportation (SCAT), primarily works with eight breeders in Georgia, North Carolina, Kentucky and Tennessee. “You’ve got to be careful because you can run into some puppy mills, which I don’t do,” he said.
He vets all of the breeders he works with and makes sure they are certified by Good Dog, an organization that helps ensure its breeders follow responsible breeding practices. Although there have been exceptions, the majority of dogs he transports are Spaniels.
“I’ve had requests for cats, pot-bellied pigs and rabbits,” he said. “I’ve mostly stuck with Springer Spaniels since I know the breed so well.”
Williamson had no idea the gig would become such a big part of his retirement years. “It started out as a hobby, but I go about two or three times a month,” he said. Sometimes it’s a quick trip to Tennessee, but other times there’s a lot more involved.
“A few weeks ago, I left home about 6 a.m. and drove to Bardstown, Kentucky,” he said. “I picked up a puppy and headed to Alpena, Arkansas. I dropped the dog off at 9:30 p.m. and drove 1,007 miles in one day. I got a motel room real quick.”
Another time he picked up a puppy at the Atlanta airport that had come from the Czech Republic and delivered it to a woman in Kentucky. In cases like that, the dog is shipped via air cargo. “It’s a controlled cargo part of the plane that’s heated, cooled and has oxygen,” Williamson said. “I’ve been real impressed with the way the airlines take care of the dogs.”
Gaston and three of his four dogs
He’s not just going to airports to pick up puppies, though. A lot of times, he acts as a “flight nanny” and accompanies the puppies on the flight. “You can take a puppy on an airplane as long as it can fit in a flexible carrier that can go under the seat in front of the passenger” Williamson said.
He’s taken lots of plane trips with puppies, and he said they usually sleep for most of the flight. So far, he and his charges have flown to Denver twice, Boston twice, Boise, Dallas and to Bozeman, Montana and Washington, D.C.
It normally costs $85 to $125 for the puppy to fly, but that’s included in the expenses paid by the new owner or the breeder. Williamson charges a fee in addition to the expenses he concurs, whether it’s gas, plane fares or lodging. “My limit is about 13 hours a day,” he said. “Anything over that, I’m probably going to get a hotel room.”
At last count, Williamson had traveled to or driven through about 30 states while transporting puppies. He’s dropped off precious cargo in New Mexico, Phoenix, Utah and Indiana, to name a few. He’s driven through all kinds of weather, including snow, high winds and record flooding. Sometimes it’s a day trip while others take two or three days.
Cynthia has joined him on a couple of the shorter drives, but sometimes he and his wife take a trip later that was sparked by one of his deliveries. “I’ll go on a trip, and I’ll see something interesting. I’ll come back and talk about it, and we’ll end up taking a trip there,” he said.
Williamson said one of his favorite trips was when he delivered some puppies to a family in Philadelphia on Dec. 22 one year. The only thing the parents told their children was that they were going to the airport. “They probably thought they were going to Disney World or the Bahamas or something,” Williamson said with a laugh.
The kids weren’t disappointed, however. “Those three little kids went crazy over their puppies,” he said. “They were just screaming and going crazy. It was so much fun. It’s things like that that make this so rewarding.”
Former Odenville resident wins 2025 Iditarod Dogsled Race
Top Photo: Jessie Holmes, formerly of Odenville, taking part in the Iditarod Dogsled Race, which he won this year. Photo by Dave Poyzer, online at davepoyzer.com
Story by Roxann Edsall Submitted photos
A trip by car from Odenville to Boston is 1,159 miles. From Odenville to Tucumcari, New Mexico is just under 1,100 miles. Now imagine a similar distance in the harsh, winter environment in Alaska, but instead of being inside your warm car, you are standing on the footboard of a sled racing through the frozen tundra at 10 to 12 miles per hour.
Alabama native Jessie Holmes knows firsthand the experience, as a musher and veteran racer of long-distance dog sled races.
He won this year’s 1,128-mile Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, the longest Iditarod in the race’s 53-year history. Due to a lack of snowfall along parts of the normal route, the official start of the 2025 race was moved from Willow, Alaska to Fairbanks.
The routing of the race was also altered, a precaution made to protect the safety of the mushers and their dogs, but adding over 100 miles to the grueling journey.
Holmes crossed the finish line in Nome at 2:55 a.m. on March 14, having completed the race in 10 days, 14 hours, 55 minutes and 41 seconds, just a little more than three hours ahead of second place finisher, veteran musher Matt Hall. The win brought with it a check for $57,200.
This was the 8th Iditarod for the 43-year-old Holmes, his strongest Iditarod finish. He placed 3rd in 2024 and in 2022.
Success, for Holmes, has been hard fought. Born in Sylacauga and raised in Phenix City by his mom, Judy Holmes, he admits to running away and getting into trouble a lot. As a teenager, he spent two years living with his father in Odenville and attended St. Clair County High School. Still getting into trouble there, he left school and headed out West hoping to figure things out.
“I was traveling, jumping trains, hitchhiking across the country working odd jobs,” says Holmes. “I settled in Montana for a little while working for a family. Then I headed up north into the Yukon Territory, wanting to be a mountain man.” He ultimately landed in Alaska, where he has thrived living off the grid.
He calls the wilderness the cure for the troubles of his youth. “It was what my soul needed,” admits Holmes. He credits the loving guidance of his grandfather, Gene Richmond, with his love of the wilderness lifestyle. An army veteran of World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War, his grandfather lived on Fort Benning, just minutes from his Phenix City home.
As a youngster, Holmes was happy there playing with the chickens and beagles and in the garden. “I was always trying to round up stray dogs everywhere I went and was always getting in trouble for it. I’ve had a strong empathy for animals my whole life,” Holmes says. “If you ran over a turtle, I was in tears.”
From his grandfather, young Jessie learned to hunt, fish, trap, garden and raise dogs, skills he still uses to provide for himself and for his animals. His grandfather has since passed, but his “granny” still lives in Phenix City.
With his human family so far away, Holmes’ describes his dogs as family. And a big family it is. Working with 60 to 70 dogs in his kennel, he breeds, raises and trains dogs for his teams and for other mushers.
He has apprentices who work with him at his homestead and learn about training sled dogs. He still trains his “A-team,” which is about 30 dogs, while his apprentices work with the “B-team” and “C-team” dogs. He’s mentoring these young people just as he was mentored by special people when he first arrived in Alaska.
Gettting ready to bed down with his dogs for a short rest
Holmes gratefully acknowledges the men who took him under their wings. Jerry (Gerald) Riley, the 1976 Iditarod champion, was influential in steering the Alabama transplant through some challenging times. “He kind of adopted me,” says Holmes. “He’s the one that really saw that I could be a champion and convinced me of it. I had kind of a negative perception of myself.”
Riley taught him some important wilderness skills and got him interested in dog breeding and racing. “I learned a lot about race tactics from him, like psyching out your competitors and not letting people play mind games on you. He was a master at race strategy.” Riley never got to see Holmes win the Iditarod, having passed away last fall.
For a few years, Holmes lived in Nenana and had other Iditarod racers as neighbors. 1983 Champion Rick Mackey taught Holmes more on strategy, numbers and dog care. Bill Cotter, whose top finish was 3rd place, became a father figure to him. “All three of them taught me so much,” says Holmes.
“They came from a different era of mushing,” Holmes adds. “They didn’t typically travel all through the night because they didn’t have the high-level headlamps that we have now. All the gear is a lot more high-tech now. When it felt tough for me, I thought about them. I focused on doing this for a bigger reason than myself. I did it for all the people who believed in me and for those mentors that have passed.”
Reality Star
The Iditarod isn’t Holmes’ only claim to fame. When a National Geographic channel series producer was looking for cast members for Life Below Zero, a show about sustenance living in remote villages of the Alaskan wilderness, friends recommended Holmes. He was cast in the show, which ran from 2015 to 2023, and won nine Academy of Television Arts & Sciences prime time Emmy Awards.
“I wasn’t interested in the show at first, but I was paid very well and that gave me the income boost that I needed to be able to do the racing and the lifestyle I wanted,” Holmes explains.
Jessie tends to the needs of his dogs before his own
He had already been excelling in mid-length races but hadn’t had the money to put into training and the expenses for the longer races, like the Iditarod. With his earnings from Life Below Zero, he was able to buy better dogs, breed them and increase the quality of his team.
He began training for his first Iditarod, and the show documented and filmed that first attempt and his second year. He was named Rookie of the Year with a 7th place finish in his first attempt in 2018.
“You’re cold, hungry, sleepy,” describes Holmes of the race experience. “You’re excited and, you know, scared. It’s almost every emotion you can imagine, all wrapped up in each day.” There are many dangers on the trail, including frostbite, whiteout conditions, injuries to the musher or the dogs and dangers from wildlife.
In the 2024 race, he ended up breaking his hand defending his dogs from an angry moose. “We kind of came up on it, and it was sleeping on a real narrow technical spot on the trail,” Holmes recalls. “The dogs were just trying to go by, and it tried to stomp some of the dogs in the team. It reared up and stomped towards the dogs and me and the sled. We’d just startled it, and it was using its survival instinct, but I came face-to-face with it and had to punch it in the nose.”
Very real dangers during races also include sleep deprivation and complete exhaustion, even to the point of hallucination. “I’ve only hallucinated once years ago,” says Holmes. “I was in a pretty depleted state. I was along the coast and saw semi-trucks going down the sea ice and going like 60 miles an hour. I was in this crazy state of believing that it was really happening, and I was so irritated that they would let that happen on the race trail. Then there was like a massive white wall about three feet high, and I felt like I had to duck under it, so I threw the sled on the side and ducked underneath it. When I jumped back up and threw the sled upright, I looked back and it wasn’t there.” That experience shook him, and he ended taking a 9th place finish in that year’s Iditarod. Since then, he’s learned to manage his energy and prioritize his health.
His health has been an issue for him the past three years as he recovered from nearly being crushed by a house. In September of 2022, Holmes was helping in the recovery efforts after Typhoon Merbok hit the coastline of Western Alaska nearly destroying the town of Golovin. He and other volunteers were pulling out wet insulation and plywood from under a house and when he pulled his last nail, a portion of the underside of the house collapsed, pinning him beneath. Friends pulled him out and got him to the hospital.
“I broke three ribs and shattered my wrist,” tells Holmes. “That all happened at the peak of training for that year’s Iditarod. I entered that race with a lot of physical problems and basically emaciated at 142 pounds. So, I had a tough time on the trail. I ended up getting 5th that year.
With his health a priority, this year’s race strategy was to catch a one-hour nap each time he had to stop. He planned five-hour rest stops to give himself ample time to get his dogs taken care of and to give them 3½ hours of uninterrupted sleep. After they were put to bed, he made sure his hydration and nutrition needs were met, which left him about an hour of sleep time.
“So, the first thing I do right when I get stopped is to direct them off the trail somewhere,” explains Holmes. “My leaders listen to me, so a few commands, and they’ll park themselves off the trail.”
Having settled the dogs off the trail, he gets a cooker going to melt snow. It takes 3 ½ gallons of boiling water to thaw the meat his dogs will need. Because of the incredible amounts of energy needed for the race, sled dogs needs approximately two pounds of meat at each feeding. Holmes also uses the boiling water to thaw the ointments and massage oils to help each dog with sore muscles and foot abrasions.
“After they’ve gotten their ointments and massage oils, I add the kibble and supplements to their meat,” Holmes adds. “When they’re done, I put their coats on them and get them settled in the straw bed. Then it’s time for me to eat, repack my sled and climb in the straw with them for about an hour of sleep.”
Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race rules mandate three stops along the race route, with one being a 24-hour stop at a major checkpoint and the other two being 8-hour stops. These required stops are designed to ensure that there is ample time for dog care and rest for the musher and his or her team.
It is also where mushers arrange for resupply shipments to be picked up. “I use them mostly for refueling points,” explains Holmes. “I get my straw, fuel for my cooker and my drop bags with supplies that I’ve ordered. I don’t stay in the towns. I camp in the country with my dogs.” That way, he says, he can keep his focus on the race and have fewer distractions.”
Holmes is very proud of all his dogs, particularly the team that won the Iditarod. “It was pretty special to have like that whole 10-dog team that I finished with be those that I bred and raised and have a deep connection to,” he says, adding that he loves them and wants them to succeed like a parent wanting to see his children succeed. “You know they’re not your children, but it’s a very blurred line for me.”
Two months before the start of the Iditarod, Holmes and his team won the Copper Basin 300, a 300-mile race. Then, just three weeks after winning the Iditarod, Holmes won the Kobuk 440. “That was my goal for the season,” says Holmes. “I saw how good the team was, and I knew we were at the peak of our career and had put the work in. To accomplish big goals, you have to set big goals.”
Holmes loves a challenge. “My goal was never to just live the simplest life in the world. It was to thrive in the wilderness,” he says. “I’m just an odd duck up here. I came from Alabama with a dream and a passion, and I pursued it to no end.
“I think it’s our southern heritage, the resilience and toughness that characterizes us from the South. When you’re hitting some terrible adversities, you’ve got to take it one day at a time, even one mile at a time.”
Editor’s Note: A special thank you goes out to Dave Poyzer for working with us to make sure we had the perfect cover shot for this edition. That is an outstanding photo taken in a difficult environment to shoot in. You can find his photos online at davepoyzer.com.
It’s been quite a ride, but the young man who at 15 had amassed dozens of championships in the rodeo circuit, is back home in Moody practicing chiropractic care as a full-fledged doctor of chiropractic.
Throughout his high school years, Cody Stubbs was a rodeo sensation – bull riding, chute dogging (steer wrestling), goat tying and, his absolute favorite, team roping, among other rodeo events.
Staff from left, Dr. Shawn Stubbs, Dr. Cody Stubbs, Ginny Pate and Misty Cunningham
Beyond the championship buckles and saddles, his talent earned him a scholarship to the University of West Alabama for undergraduate school, where he was pursuing orthopedic medicine.
By his second year of undergraduate studies, he realized his philosophy of care aligned more with chiropractic than traditional medicine – a more holistic approach of education, wellness and lifestyle. It turned out to be a “lightbulb” moment about his future.
It seemed a natural path to take. His mother, Dr. Shawn Stubbs, has owned Crossroads Chiropractic in Moody for the past 25 years. Cody “grew up” there, she said, flashing photos of him playing in the clinic as a toddler or sporting his name-embroidered shirt he wore to escort patients back to rooms as a youngster.
It’s always been like family around the clinic. Receptionist Ginny Pate used to be Cody’s nanny. Now she’s assisting all grown-up Dr. Cody.
He graduated from West Alabama in Livingston, where he met his future wife, Raven, who was a rodeo champion, too, having finished fourth in the world in Barrel Racing at the collegiate level.
Out of all of his buckles, the one he received for sportsmanship is Cody’s favorite
After college, he headed to Life University in Marietta, Ga., outside Atlanta, where he earned his doctorate.
Then, it was like homecoming, returning to Moody and Crossroads Chiropractic, where he settled in as “Dr. Cody” in October. “It’s the best job in the world,” Cody said. “I am fortunate to be able to do it and see people get better without surgery or drugs.”
His mother said she is fortunate to have him back home working with her. “I love it. It’s like a dream come true working with him, my son following in my footsteps. The patients request him, and I get to play with my grandbaby.”
That’s her plan, she said, spending more time with the grandchildren. “Cody’s handling it great, above expectations. He’s just wonderful. He is really good with the elderly population, very respectful.”
Cody Stubbs Chute Dogging Alabama State Champion at National Finals, Gallup, New Mexico, 2013
He enjoys working with the older patients, too. He makes them laugh and puts them at ease. The aging patient traditionally has a number of doctors’ appointments. His goal is to make the appointment with him one they don’t dread.
“Everybody leaves with a smile on their face after seeing him, besides feeling better,” Dr. Shawn said.
Returning home to a piece of land between Moody and Odenville has stirred those old cowboy memories in him, and he talks of getting a horse and roping again one day. “I’m a country boy,” he said. Atlanta was “a lot of city for me,” so it’s good to be home on the land among the animals and wide-open spaces.
But for now, he’s content to take care of priorities – tending to the practice, his wife and one-year-old, Weston, and a second baby on the way. “I’ll be back soon. I have other priorities to get to. Family comes first, then I’ll get back to it.
It’s hard to imagine that Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve is celebrating its first birthday already. It was more than a decade in the making, and it sometimes seemed that opening day would never arrive.
But it did. On Feb. 3, 2024, 731 people streamed in, and the crowds haven’t stopped. Over 400 attended the grand opening, ribbon cutting ceremony the day before. And the numbers since that time have not only climbed, they show no signs of slowing.
Ribbon cutting, opening ceremony a year ago draws huge crowd
In the first year of operation, 13,000 people, an average of 1,100 a month, have visited the preserve – 422 acres of nature nestled in the city of Springville, whose population is just a little over 5,000, according to the latest census.
Its hiking, biking, birding and horseback riding trails wind their way beneath towering canopies of hardwoods, pine and maple trees with colorful palettes of flowers and diverse native plants marking the paths as if guiding the way.
A meandering creek, pristine as it flows through the heart of it all, is the ideal centerpiece – home to aquatic species – some not found anywhere else.
As Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve Manager Doug Morrison says, it’s the perfect place to “get your nature on.”
Early days
On an unseasonably warm day in late February, Morrison sits on the porch of the preserve office – a tiny wooden building, almost cabin-like in its appearance. He reminisces as he motions to the trails, bioswale and parking, surrounded by dense woods forming a picturesque backdrop.
Much of what you see was absent the year before. Trails were being built. A bioswale was being created to remove pollutants from stormwater runoff and let it settle in the soil to decompose rather than polluting the preserve below.
Entrance roads and parking lots were constructed. Signs erected. Benches were strategically placed throughout as a welcome respites along a hike or a placid place just to enjoy the scenery.
Activity was at a fevered pitch as work was tireless in its efforts to open. It had been long awaited to fulfill a longtime dream by Morrison and others.
For a decade or so, they waged a passionate campaign to have the land preserved and protected so that generations from now, the preserve can still be experienced and enjoyed. Forever Wild Land Trust bought the acreage and set wheels in motion to do just that – preserve it forever.
These days
These days you’ll find Morrison and company planning, visioning, working toward improvements to the experience and enhancing its awareness and education programs to take it to the next level.
Lucy Cleaver has joined the team as education coordinator. Jake Tucker is maintenance technician. With Morrison, the trio keeps the preserve running on a daily basis.
Entertainment at first birthday celebration cookout
Education has long been a central focus of the preserve. It is key to its future to facilitate not only an understanding of the importance of nature, but a passion for preserving it.
Cleaver enters the picture with an impressive resume with a bachelor’s degree in Agriscience Education and a master’s in Natural Resource Management from Auburn University. She taught high school Agriscience classes before joining the Park and Rec Department of the City of Springville.
Already, she has the education calendar full of activities.
On March 8, it held its second Youth Turkey Calling Expo, getting youngsters up and out on a Saturday morning at the preserve to learn all about wild turkeys. They learned how to make turkey calls and all about turkey hunting and the outdoors. The free event had a multitude of sponsors and the value of items given away to the kids totaled over $5,000.
On March 10, Jones Valley teaching farm interns and students went for a hike at the preserve and learned all about its features.
April 5 will see the preserve partnering with Alabama Cooperative Extension for a native tree workshop. June 7 is set for an invasive species seminar, and Sept. 26-27, it will be the site of Forest Her, a workshop for women on how to read deeds, bank documents and wills and how to manage land. It is a joint effort with the U.S. Soil Conservation Service for Women in Agriculture, necessitated by a growing number of women inheriting the family farm and needing such guidance.
She is networking with educators in the Alabama Environmental Association to help develop more programs.
Rounding out the year, Creek Jam, the popular outdoor music festival at Homestead Hollow to benefit the preserve, is set to return Oct. 25.
Future plans
While the early chapters of this success story have already been written for the preserve, officials have no intention of stopping there. Innovation, accessibility and more education are its guides.
Immediate plans call for making a section of the lower trail more accessible by paving a 1-mile section to allow wheelchairs. This will be made possible as the result of funding from grants secured by the Big Canoe Creek Preserve Partners, announcements forthcoming.
Tucker is working on a ram pump, which employs a set of valves working together to provide pressure enough to move 14,000 gallons of water from a spring through 350 feet of line up an 80-foot elevation without electricity.
Morrison discovered the ram pump idea from Randy Moody, a friend who had previously lived on the property in a rental house. “I asked him, how did you get water because I knew no water lines were run up here,” Morrison said.
Moody explained that the remnants of an old spring house had a gathering reservoir that fed into a pipe and there used to be a ram pump there. Morrison had never heard of a ram pump before, but he and Tucker researched. Tucker found a ram pump kit online and installed it.
“Jake can do anything I throw at him,” Morrison said. As long as the water collected into the pipe flows downhill, a ram pump inserted inline on the pipe could gather and push water uphill. For every 1 foot of fall on the pipe, it could push 7 feet uphill.
The end result? “We collect water through the pipe, the ram pump pushes it uphill, and we can collect it in a reservoir. Right now, we have a small 250-gallon tote, but plans are for a much bigger reservoir to collect the water and send the overflow back to the stream, thus providing water for irrigation and possibly flushing future toilets.”
Eventually, this off the grid creation will become an education model.
Meanwhile, pollinator gardens planted in the fall will be in full swing in spring and summer.
They are hopeful that an open-air pavilion with restrooms is on the horizon, made possible by a $400,000 grant from the Alabama Department of Economic and Community Affairs as part of its Recreational Trails Program. It was written by Mike McCown with assistance from Morrison and Candice Hill, director of St. Clair County’s new grant resource center.
There, they will be able to hold education and other events, and restroom facilities will now be available.
Why they do what they do
“This watershed is very, very special,” Morrison said as he talks of the protected species there, especially the Canoe Creek Clubshell Mussel, which had nearly become extinct. In 2022, they were placed on the endangered species list.
He points to the ecological potential for the future and a 2013 project on the creek.
Students from Jones Valley Teaching Farm schooled in features of preserve
In November 2013, The Nature Conservancy, U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, river conservationists, The Friends of Big Canoe Creek, Coosa Riverkeeper and the Geological Survey of Alabama, DCNR and Alabama Power united to remove Goodwin’s Mill Dam. The former grist mill dam was built in the 1880s, and it was abandoned in the 1940s. At the time above the dam site, 15 different fish species, but no mussels, were found. Below it, twice that as more than 30 species of fish, were found, signaling that the dam had been obstructing the free flow of the fish.
“The fish passage was hindered by the dam. Fish have a symbiotic relationship with mussels. You see the female mussel releases glochidia (mussel larvae if you will) that latch onto the fishes’ gills. They feed off the blood of the fish for a few weeks, then drop off. And that’s where their life journey begins,” Morrison explained. Ten years later, they found mussels there, Canoe Creek Clubshells at that. Once the fish passage was unobstructed, the mussels were returning, and their role as a natural water filter will be vital to keeping the creek pristine.
After USFWS folks discovered the Clubshell there in 2023, they worked with Paul Johnson and Michael Buntin at Alabama Aquatic Center in Marion where they raise mussels. They released over 120 Clubshells and about the same number of Coosa Mocassinshell mussels in early 2024 into Big Canoe Creek, Morrison said, and they have high hopes for what it means for the future.
Through the preserve and the environmental and conservation work being done, “We want to teach people more about our watershed, how important the critters are that live here and how to take better care of our waterways so these special critters can exist. We must do what we can to prevent further extinctions,” Morrison said.
“All of God’s creatures have a right to exist to live a full life. We can tune in more to nature, explore more and discover more. Who knows what is still undiscovered? Bottom line, we all need to ‘get our nature on’, and maybe your existence will be rewarded tenfold.”
Dirk Walker’s artwork has found homes all over the world. His paintings hang in houses, churches, businesses, corporate headquarters and sports stadiums. They grace walls all over the country and faraway places like Germany, Denmark, Australia, and the United Kingdom.
It all started with his own bare walls.
“I wanted to buy art for our home,” said Walker, who lived in Birmingham at the time. His search took him to the Loretta Goodwin Gallery, and by the time he left, Walker, who worked in banking at the time, couldn’t shake the feeling that he was meant to be an artist.
“I don’t know why I thought I could do it, but something appealed to me about trying to learn how to paint,” said Walker, who has had a studio in downtown Pell City for 11 years.
Fans of his work are awfully glad he did. Walker’s paintings, both oils and watercolors, are known for their bold colors, rich texture and loose brushstrokes. His subject matters are varied: he has collections ranging from landscapes and city scenes to his spiritual series. He also paints sporting and hunting scenes, art focusing on the growing bourbon culture, and whimsical subjects like Santa Claus.
“The variety of things I like to do just keeps me fresh in all of them,” he said. “I’m not doing the same thing all the time – that would drive me bonkers. A lot of people can’t say they love what they do, but I get a lot of gratification from it. Once I get in to doing a painting, everything else just sort of goes away.”
Finding purpose
There were signs early on that Walker had the makings to be a great artist. Growing up in Birmingham, he watched his father dabble in watercolor, and his own high school work caught the attention of his art teacher. She encouraged him to pursue it, but his interest and talent lay dormant for years.
After graduating from Vestavia Hills High School, Walker earned a degree in industrial design at Auburn University and that helped provide a foundation in drawing and perspective. “I did a little design work right out of college, but I had the opportunity to go with the bank, and it was a better option for raising a family at the time,” he said.
Debbie and Dirk Walker in the Pell City studio
After the visit to the gallery, however, Walker decided to give in to the pull. His first painting was a still life. “It was horrible, looking back on it now,” he said with a laugh.
Still, he took it to back to the gallery to be framed, and Loretta Goodwin, who would become a dear friend and mentor, saw something he didn’t. She asked him who had painted the piece. “I said, ‘I did,’ and she said, ‘Can you do it again?’”
It took him about two years to create something he wanted to show her. “It was the most nerve-wracking experience,” said Walker, who started painting with oils. “I circled the block two or three times because I wanted to throw up I was so nervous.”
The first few times he showed Goodwin his work, she told him, “You’re not quite there, keep trying,” Walker remembered. “I’d tuck tail and go back home and stay at it. Eventually, I got to the point where she thought she could do something with it.”
Goodwin was a tremendous influence on Walker. “She loved the arts, she loved local artists, and she did so much to promote the arts in Birmingham. We formed a deep friendship where we talked as much about the business of art as we did the painting process. It instilled in me a love of both.”
She wasn’t his only influence. Hungry to learn, Walker sought guidance and inspiration from Alabama artists John Lonergan, who taught art at Pell City High School for 25 years, and Tom Black, who grew up in Gadsden and lived in Pell City before moving to Arizona. “I would go up to Tom’s studio and just watch him mix color and see what he’d do. I was too nervous to paint around anyone,” he said.
Walker later met and took workshops from David Leffel and Sherrie McGraw, both artists who taught at the Art Students League of New York. His early style was similar to those who had influenced him – “very much the Old Masters, very much the old Renaissance look,” Walker said. “It was the play of shadows and light, light flowing over objects.”
Still working at the bank while pursuing his art, Walker didn’t have the luxury of painting outside during the day and taking advantage of the natural light. “At night, I’d go down to my studio and set up a still life so I could control the light,” he said.
Walker’s work soon grew a following, and in addition to the Loretta Goodwin Gallery, his art has been featured in eight galleries across the country. When his job went away after a bank merger, Walker bought Goodwin’s gallery, which he owned for 20 years before becoming a full-time artist.
Changing times
Walker, who now lives in Cropwell with Debbie, his wife of eight years, has said that painting “is a lifelong struggle, but one that is well worth the journey.” He said he loves the fact that he continues to grow and change as an artist.
“It’s something you never completely learn,” he said. “I think that’s one of the big appeals for me. Forty years later, I’m still learning and experimenting and making mistakes.”
The artist’s spiritual series stems from his personal faith
In fact, Walker said his willingness to continue to explore techniques and subjects and experiment with color has been a big part of his success. “So many artists just kind of get stuck and they wonder why their art isn’t being accepted the way it was maybe years earlier,” he said. “I learned how to watch what people responded to, and through the years, it impacted how my style changed.”
Walker’s portfolio soon expanded to iconic landmarks. His work includes Alabama landmarks like Sloss Furnaces, the Alabama Theatre, Vulcan, the Pell City Depot and the Mobile Bay Lighthouse. He eventually added scenes from Atlanta, as well as places like the Lincoln Memorial, the Brooklyn Bridge and the Eiffel Tower.
“I started off painting very tight, very traditional, and then I wanted to go a little more abstract, a little more impressionistic,” he said, adding that one of the first steps was adding nondescript figures to some of his landmark paintings. “Through the years, I kept pushing in that vein.”
Walker started experimenting with sporting and hunting scenes after his son, Geoffrey, who works in the sporting goods industry, showed his artwork to Kevin and Kathleen Kelly, owners of Kevin’s Fine Outdoor Gear & Apparel. Based in Thomasville, Geogia, it is one of several retailers who represent his work.
“They asked if I ever did hunting scenes, and Geoffrey said, ‘I don’t know; I’ll check,’” Walker said. “He called me that night and said, ‘Dad, I think you need to try doing some hunting scenes.’”
Walker took his son’s advice, and the collection has been wildly popular, thanks in part to his abstract realism style. “I think my style was a really fresh approach,” he said. “Most of the wildlife art you see is very tight, very realistic, very static. Mine was loose and colorful, and I think it caught people at the right time. There’s been a tremendous response to it. It’s just kind of blown my world up.”
Walker, who lived on Logan Martin Lake for years before he and Debbie moved to their gentleman’s farm in Cropwell, has fond memories of fishing and hunting growing up and eventually fishing with his own kids. “We’ve got so many great memories of being on the water,” he said. “That’s one of the really neat things about that genre of work. People connect to it on an emotional level. They want a painting of a dog like they had, or they hunted with their kids. It evokes a lot of memories.”
About four years ago, Kelly approached Walker about doing limited edition prints of some of his paintings. He was reluctant at first, but he realized that people who couldn’t or wouldn’t invest in original art might spend $300 or $400 on a print.
They began offering a line of collector’s closed edition prints, and “we get orders almost every day,” he said. Debbie handles that side of the business, and “it has really broadened our exposure,” Walker said. “Now I get calls to do commissions from all over the country and from other countries, as well.”
Higher calling
Another series that has been personal for Walker is his spiritual collection, which includes depictions of Jesus’ baptism, the Last Supper, the feeding of the 5,000, and the crucifixion. The series was born of his own personal faith and struggles.
Raised in the church, Walker said “if the doors were open, we were there.” As an adult, he went through a period where he floundered a bit, but “something was calling me back to the church.” Not long after he returned, he felt ta strong desire to paint scenes from the Bible.
“Being a person of faith, I think everyone is given gifts on some level, whether it’s music, art, writing, whatever,” he said. “This is something that’s He’s given me, and it’s a way for me to kind of give back and witness a little about my faith. I try to portray something in a way that might cause someone to want to sit and think, and if it also helps someone else find the Lord or deal with issues, that’s a blessing for both parties.”
Walker spent a lot of time on his spiritual art the past two years after being commissioned by Vestavia Hills Methodist Church to paint a series of scenes portraying the life of Christ according to the Gospel of John. Baptist Health also commissioned artwork for all of its hospitals in Alabama.
He also was commissioned to do several large pieces, including a portrayal of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, for collectors in Australia and Germany. The connection was largely the result of his online presence.
“Without the internet, that never would have happened,” he said. “It’s kind of a God thing. He’s using this voice of mine to reach people literally around the globe. It really makes me very humble and proud.”
A new medium
While he has painted with oils for most of his career, Walker was moved to study a new medium about six years ago when he introduced his bourbon series. “Bourbon is such a collectible thing right now, and they’re a lot of fun to do,” he said of the paintings. “Watercolor is sort of the perfect medium for that subject.”
Walker said he strives to create the same kind of look as his oil paintings – the boldness of color, for example – so his approach is a little different than that of traditional watercolorists. While most watercolors tend to have a lot of transparency, he often uses gouache, which is similar to watercolor, but more opaque. The result is paintings with more dimension and vibrancy. “My technique is a little different in that regard,” he said.
The challenge is part of the allure. “Watercolor is a hard medium,” he said. “I enjoy it equally as much as oil, but I’m still kind of learning as I go.”
Walker, his own toughest critic, has a stack of watercolors in his studio that he has discarded. “You’re never completely satisfied no matter how good a painting might turn out,” he said. “I can go back and look at a painting I did yesterday or 10 years ago and see things I wish I’d done differently. Even to this day I’m frustrated by why one painting works and one doesn’t.”
Finding balance
At 70, Walker has no plans to stop painting. “Debbie and I work really hard at this, and I’m up in the studio almost every day,” he said. “I enjoy it, though, and it’s something I hope I can do for years to come.”
Vintage Pell City train depot, an original painting Walker donated to Museum of Pell City as a fundraiser
They do make time for other pursuits, however. Debbie, who traveled the world in her younger years is trying her best to help Walker catch the travel bug, and being with family will always be a priority for both of them.
Their combined family is a big one. Walker has four children, Debbie has two, and there are nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren with another on the way. One of his greatest joys has been creating scenes that mean something to them and will be around for generations.
“I’m so proud that my kids have been able to see me develop, although they give me grief about it,” he said. “If they ever think my ego is out of check, they bring me back down to earth. But it’s so cool because they’ve all told me, ‘Dad, you want to give us something for Christmas, give us a piece of your art.’ That, as a parent, is awesome.”
Chances are, there are a lot more Christmas gifts in their future. Walker, who said he can’t see ever retiring, will never get too far from his red Craftsman tool cabinet that holds brushes and paint and other tools of his trade.
“I once read, ‘Art is a delicate balance between the visual concept and each artist’s technique,’” Walker has said. “After years of chasing that artistic balance, it is the anticipation of the struggle that keeps me coming back to the canvas.” l
Ashville architectural wonder made entirely from antique windows
Story by Roxann Edsall Photos by Mandy Baughn
Deep in the countryside, hidden in a hillside forest, there is a glass house. Entirely made of antique windows, the space is bright and airy, looking a bit like a tiny conservatory. Ashville’s The Valley Glasshouse is a simple space, just 32 feet by 12 feet, but has an interesting ability to change its look throughout the day as the sun creates shadows and plays with the colors inside the building.
For artists and photographers, this place is a dream come true. More specifically, for chiaroscurists, those who appreciate the interplay of light and shadow, the building is must-see.
As a professional photography venue, though, the room’s appeal is more than just about the light and shadows. Reflection and nature itself play into the appeal. The ability to capture clients in nature, while being protected from the unpredictability of weather, makes it a unique place to work, according to professional photographer Brittany Hackleman.
A swing adds to the whimsical nature of the surroundings
“I really like to do outdoor shoots, in grass, fields and creeks,” explains Hackleman. “But if it rains, you can’t do it. With The Valley Glasshouse, it’s still doable because you’re protected by a roof and walls, but you still get the outdoors in the shots.”
Shortly after the venue opened, she brought another photographer friend out, used her as the model and shot some photos, posted them, and within 20 minutes had filled two session days and has a waitlist.
Owners Dana and Sammy Pike began building the glass house in May of 2024, finishing it in December. It took them nine months to transform the property that once housed an old woodshed. They demolished the shed, taking it down to just the six steel beams that once supported it. From there, they began the rebuilding process.
A treasure hunting trip to neighboring Georgia yielded 72 antique windows, 71 of which were used in the final building. They are from several different older homes, so they’re not all the same size. “It was my husband’s job to put the puzzle together,” says Dana. “He made it all work.”
“Yes, it was a challenge,” admits Sammy. “We separated the windows into their sizes. Then I measured the gaps between each of the pillars. I took each window size and each gap size and sketched it out on paper.”
With those measurements sketched on paper, Sammy knew how much wood trim he would have to add to make the wall sections fit in the gaps between the pillars. The roof was a challenge as well, since it required erecting a 16-foot beam, which he put up by himself. “Yes, that required a lot of propping and pulling,” he admits. Then he covered that with opaque polycarbonate panels, the material used for greenhouses.
The couple grew up in St. Clair County just three miles from each other. Sammy’s family lived on the property next door to Dana and Sammy’s current home when he was growing up. The two met at church and have now been married 34 years. “Dana has wanted to do this glass house pretty much our whole marriage,” said Sammy.
It took a visit to another glass house on her parents’ 50th wedding anniversary to get things rolling. “I wanted to gift them a photo shoot for their anniversary. There is a glass house in Boaz that is also a photography studio, so we thought that might be fun to use,” said Dana. “After that, we decided we could build one on our own property.” A few months later, the plan was in place and, when the weather warmed up, they got started.
The play of light and shadow make it a photographer’s dream
“My grandmother was the keeper of all the family photos from way back,” recalls Dana. “Those photos were (and are) treasures. She was so excited about the project but never got to see it finished.” Her grandmother passed away in October at the age of 92, and to honor her, they are planning to add a memorial garden on the property. “I just want people to come here to capture their own memories,” adds Dana.
The Pikes love antiques and have some unique décor that can be used by photographers. They have a storage shed nearby to house props and furniture that will be changed out seasonally. Photographers are also encouraged to bring additional props as needed. The venue also has lighting options inside and out for evening sessions.
But you know what they say about people who build glass houses? You might think that they should not throw stones. While that is true, the answer according to the late humorist Art Buchwald, is simply “they have to wash their windows all the time.”
For the Pikes, with 71 windows to wash, it’s a family affair. “Our grandkids have participated in the window washing fun,” admits Dana, laughing. “And we are very careful mowing grass these days.”
While The Valley Glasshouse is only offered as a photography venue currently, the Pikes have had several inquiries about hosting parties and events on the property. They are considering offering special event space in the future. It is, indeed, a special place and only a stone’s throw away in north St. Clair County.or their contributions to racing. If these museums close up, the cars end up in private collections and no one will see them anymore.”
