Blair Farm

blair-farm-odenville-2An Odenville Landmark

Story by Carol Pappas
Photography by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

A weathered, vintage sign points the way from US 411 in Odenville. Tarnished by age, it’s hard to tell where its burgundy background ends and the rust begins. As you get a little closer, the white letters and arrow come into view, whimsically giving more specific directions: “Over Yonder.”

Follow the arrow’s path, and it leads you down Blair Farm Road to where else? Blair Farm.

In its 1950s heyday, its 240 acres hosted cattle, horses, ponies, a Clydesdale named Blue Boy Snow and a family by the name of Blair. Dwight Blair Jr., known as “Jobby,” bought the farm in 1952 and moved there with his wife, Margaret Drennen Blair, and their 2-year-old son, Dwight Blair III. Little sisters Dana and Carol would follow in the years to come.

It was the beginning of a new story for a World War II hero turned stock broker turned horse trader — or better yet, trader of all sorts — said his son Dwight III, now a prominent Pell City attorney. “He was a real wheeler dealer.”

His father would advertise horses and ponies for sale in the Birmingham News, and families would usually arrive on a Sunday to look them over. “Kids would become enamored with the ponies,” Dwight said. “They would say, ‘Dad, please let us have this pony!,’ and the father would say they would come back.” The thinly veiled excuse was they didn’t have a truck with them.

But Dwight says his father was not to be deterred from the sale. “He was a master at removing the back seat of a four-door car” to show kids and father alike just how those children’s dream actually could come true.

“Many a pony went from here with their head stuck out of the back window,” he said. Before they drove away, the wheeler dealer always added: “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give you half of what you paid.”

The stories of his father aren’t always as lighthearted. In 1943, he was a bombardier in the Army Air Corps and was shot down in North Africa. He was in his turret, firing at a German plane and killed the fighter pilot.

The German plane started a nosedive and then quickly reversed direction, clipping the nose of the American plane. It spiraled to the ground, killing seven of his father’s crewmates. Only he and one other survived but were captured. He was wounded in his left leg, and 15 pieces of shrapnel remained. Reported missing in action, he spent more than two years in a German prison camp, escaping one time by jumping off a train. But he discovered he could not get far because of his leg injury, and he was recaptured.

In 1945, although presumed dead since his capture, he was released in a wounded prisoner exchange and headed back home to a hero’s welcome reported on the front page of the Age Herald, which later became Birmingham Post-Herald.

He went back to school at The University of Alabama and after graduation, he did post-graduate work at Wharton School of Business in Philadelphia and became a stock broker in Birmingham.

In 1946, he married Margaret Drennen, who was from a prominent Birmingham family. “Her father asked her, ‘Are you sure you want to live out in Odenville, where you will have nothing but chickens and horse manure?’ And she said, yes,” her son recounted the story his mother told him.

In 1952, they bought a small farm where Moody High School is today, but sold it and quickly bought the 240 acres on both sides of what is now Blair Farm Road.

He remained a stockbroker until 1958 when he decided to leave the big city working life behind for good and sell horses, ponies and cattle full time along with running a tractor and car lot in Leeds called Traders Inc.

He had about 50 head of cattle and 20 to 30 horses and ponies along with the farm’s familiar fixture — Blue Boy Snow — on the sprawling open pastures. “They were everywhere,” Dwight recalled as he motioned around the property. A monument to the Clydesdale, a Blair Farm resident from 1959 to 1991 who weighed more than 2,000 pounds, still stands in the shade of a towering oak tree in one of those pastures.

blair-farm-odenville-3Today’s Blair Farm looks a bit different than those early days of wide-open pastures and a homeplace probably built in the 1890s. It was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. It was replaced in 1953 with the house passersby see now. A barn, believed to be built in that same turn-of-the-century time, still remains. Its square nails rather than round ones hint at its age. “It’s amazing it has weathered time like it has,” he said, noting that its only change has been adding a metal roof.

Other weathered barns and sheds are scattered around the property.

Austin Dwight Blair, the fourth Dwight in the lineage, now helps his own father with upkeep of the land. It helps to have Sheriff Terry Surles and Probate Judge Mike Bowling cut hay from it for their cattle. And friends and family come there to relax, skeet shoot or hunt. “It’s a place where everybody comes and feels comfortable,” Austin said.

Now a broker in commercial real estate for LAH in Birmingham, Austin likes returning to the place he rode horses as a child and had his very own pony, Freddy Boy.

For Dwight, it’s full circle. Up to about age 13, he thought it was a wondrous place. But teenagers tend to gravitate toward more action, and he took advantage of every opportunity to spend time away from the farm with friends in Leeds and Birmingham.

Then it was off to college, a scholarship to play running back at Vanderbilt University and later, law school at Cumberland School of Law.

In the midst of a successful and understandably busy career, Dwight likes coming back to the quiet of what has become a “weekend place” now. He raises pheasant and quail, and a couple of German Short Haired Pointers named Hansel and Gretel seem as content to call it home as his father did.

It is a story not unlike countless family farms in and around St. Clair County. They, too, have weathered time with their own tales to tell.

Huckleberry Pond

huckleberry-pond-1

A place deep with memories

Story by Leigh Pritchett
Photography by Michael Callahan

Huckleberry Pond sits quietly between Sugar Farm Road and Riddle Road in Riverside.

Hardwoods and other trees knit a canopy as they stand in the shallow water near shore.

In the greater depths, tall and jagged trunks of dead trees jut toward the sky.

huckleberry-pond-wayne-spradleyThe chirp of frogs breaks the silence and some unseen creature ripples the water.

The pond has been described as spooky, eerie, mysterious and, at the same time, beautiful.

It has different personalities, depending on time of day and season.

Daybreak is the favorite of Lance Bell, who owns 17 acres of the pond and 110 acres adjoining it. Wayne Spradley likes it best in early spring and late fall. Bobby Parker prefers winter.

One of its many moods is that “it looks like the Florida Everglades sometimes,” said Parker, who lives in Pell City.

“It’s a mystical-looking place with the dead trees,” added Greg Ensley of Pell City. “It’s a pretty place, a good place to go sit and watch animals.”

The stillness of the pond tends to shroud the fact that the place is actually teeming with memories.

huckleberry-pond-3“In high school, we’d sneak over there and fish, (go) frog-gigging and kill a snake here and there,” said Bell, who grew up in Cook Springs and now lives in Riverside. “I think generations and generations before me did the same thing.”

Frank Finch of Cropwell can attest to that. “We used to hang out over there when I was young.”

He and his cousins would ride a mule-drawn wagon to get there. That was in the early 1950s, when life was simpler.

“That was when kids knew how to use a weapon,” Finch said. “We killed things to eat; we’d fish on Huckleberry Pond. We knew how to take care of ourselves in the woods.”

The pond and the surrounding land just seemed to beckon those who wanted to explore, play, fish and hunt.

“It was a wild place. It was a place that was basically untouched,” Finch said. “It was a place to go back in time. We fought Indian battles. We fought World War II there, all the things that young boys do. Back then, it was a time of innocence. We didn’t have much. We enjoyed what we had.”

huckleberry-pond-2The memories of Wes Guthrie of Pell City go back more than 40 years. As a young boy, he went to the pond with his grandparents, Hob and Iantha Guthrie (both deceased). They would fish or his grandmother would pick huckleberries and blackberries.

“When we were young, we’d go there about once a month on a flat-bottom boat,” Guthrie said. “No trolling motor. Just a paddle and boat and your cane poles.”

Moss spanned much of the water’s surface, so it was necessary to put the fishing line down through a break in vegetation.

“It was good bream fishing and good bass fishing in the holes,” Guthrie said.

Huckleberry Pond held so much intrigue for Spradley when he was a boy that he would walk all the way from North Pell City to get to it.

“We went up there pretty often,” Spradley said. “We’d stay gone all day long.”

The fascination lasted right into adulthood, when Spradley – a renowned artist – chose Huckleberry Pond as the subject of his first wildlife print.

“(The pond) brought a lot of inspiration to me to do paintings,” Spradley said.

Through the years, Spradley has captured the pond, its mystery and its wildlife in several pieces of artwork.

Earlier this summer, he worked on several pencil sketches in preparation for his next Huckleberry Pond piece. Two sketches feature the pond’s familiar treescape. Another is of bluebirds flitting and diving.

The bluebird idea came to him from a fly-fishing experience about 15 years ago. Spradley saw bluebirds at the pond behaving in a manner he had not seen previously.

The birds would take flight, then dive down like kingfishers, Spradley said. “I didn’t have any idea bluebirds would do that. (They were) hitting the water, getting something to eat and carrying it back to the stump and eating it.”

For Dale Sullivan of Pell City, talking about Huckleberry Pond is somewhat of a sentimental journey.

“It’ll always hold a special place for me because I grew up there in its heyday. It was somewhere you wanted to go,” said Sullivan.

Many were the times he and his dad, Ernest Sullivan (now deceased) fished or hunted on pond property.

On occasions when the pond was frozen, Sullivan — as a youth — skated or rode bicycles on it.

One time while a teen, Sullivan borrowed his dad’s truck — without permission – to haul a boat to the pond. Once there, he decided to back the truck to the water’s edge to unload the boat.

By accident, he backed the truck into the pond. In the process of trying to get the truck out of the water, he nearly burned up the clutch.

Realizing he was in trouble, Sullivan begged a neighbor to use his tractor to free the truck.

The neighbor obliged and came with his tractor, which subsequently got stuck.

With the predicament now doubled in size, Sullivan called in the cavalry — which in this case was Riverside service station owner Frank Riddle.

Riddle brought his wrecker and extracted both the tractor and the pickup.

Then, Sullivan had to go home to tell his dad all that had transpired, as well as explain why the truck’s clutch would not function exactly right anymore.

“That’s one of my most vivid memories” about the pond, Sullivan said.

Just as the pond has been a natural source of human adventure, it has also been a haven that attracted animal life.

Those who frequented the pond through the years have seen quite an array of creatures, including chain pickerel, frogs, beavers, muskrats, deer, loggerhead and soft shell turtles, blue herons, snipes, whippoorwills, woodpeckers, numerous species of ducks and so very many other winged creations.

“You’ve never seen the like of birds there in all your life,” Ensley said.

In recent months, Bell has caught images on his game cameras of coyotes, bobcats and wild turkeys.

People also say the pond is fed by a spring and that the water is rather chilly in spots.

“It’s a unique place,” said Sullivan.

Protecting that uniqueness is one of the many reasons Bell purchased some pond property when it became available.

Bell said it is nice to own property that holds such a legacy of memories for so many people. He wants to preserve it and pass the legacy and the love of nature to his sons, Hudson and Holden.

The pond, which encompasses about 40 acres, is divided into three sections of ownership. Sonny and Jane Kilgroe of Pell City own another portion of the pond and bordering land. The third section belongs to Headwaters Investments Corp. of Atlanta, Ga.

Standing along the shore in an area not visible from Sugar Farm Road, Bell watched as his sons chatted and tossed sticks into the water.

“I enjoy watching them play out here,” Bell said.

Gazing out toward the middle of the pond, he said, “It’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful.”

His screensaver, he confessed, is an image of Huckleberry Pond.

Holly, his wife, said she wants to live on the expanse.

“I would like to build a house out here,” she said. “I like being out in nowhere, the slower pace.”

If it had been a snake …
Almost no tale of Huckleberry Pond, it seems, is complete without a snake story.

As a matter of fact, in enumerating some of the pond’s traits, Gordon Smith of Pell City listed snakes first.

“You would see them swim by,” Guthrie said.

Ensley said he has seen them, after dark, hanging from tree limbs close to the water, just waiting for a meal.

Sullivan has had several snakes in the boat with him, thanks to his dad. He said his dad would run the boat under a bush to make non-poisonous snakes fall into it, just to see the reaction of the occupants.

Spradley had the particular experience of falling out of a boat one time on Huckleberry Pond. “I don’t think I got wet getting back into the boat!”

Sometimes, Finch and his cousins camped overnight at the pond. But they were certain to sleep inside the wagon instead of on the ground to avoid any uninvited guests.

“There were some big snakes over there,” Finch said. “In the eyes of a child, every snake is pretty big.”

Then, there is the story of a teen-aged Dana Merrymon. He lived in the Center Star area at the time, and Sugar Farm Road was unpaved.

Merrymon and a buddy went fishing in a flat-bottom, aluminum boat. With them, they had a .410 shotgun, just in case of a serpent sighting.

The two guys had caught six or seven fish, which they put in the front of the boat. Merrymon sat in the middle of the boat, and his buddy was in the back.

It was growing dark as they rowed toward shore, but they stopped to fish one last time.

That is when Merrymon saw a head pop up out of the water. Then, the head and the rest of the body came right over into the boat to get the fish.

Merrymon yelled, “Snake!”

Almost instantaneously, he heard a deafening “boom” from behind him and realized that his buddy had shot at the snake.

The slithering visitor swam away unscathed.

But the boat was not so fortunate.

It started taking on water.

Although the water was only about thigh-deep where they were, neither fisherman wanted to be in it.

The two paddled with all their might to reach shore before the boat sank.

More than 40 years later, Merrymon, who lives in Pell City, tells that story with laughter and animation.

But at the time it happened, “it wasn’t funny,” Merrymon said. “I was scared to death!”

Additional assistance with this article provided by Realtors Bill Gossett and Carl Howard; Riverside Mayor Rusty Jessup; Porter Bailey; Julia Skelton; Vicki Merrymon; Jesse Hooks; David Murphy; Glenn Evans; John Pritchett; Jerry Smith; Bill Hereford; and April Bagwell of the county mapping department.

House of Q

Barbecue’s rising star

bbqman140714-5Story by Loyd McIntosh
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

In the crazy, competitive world of competition barbecue, a new star is on the rise, and he just happens to call St. Clair County home. John Coon with his Kansas City Barbecue Society team, House of Q, is one of the hottest masters of meat on the circuit, regularly walking the stage and gathering hardware for his barbecue creations. His celebrity status soared even higher after his recent appearance on the hit barbecue competition television show BBQ Pitmasters.

The Springville resident now finds himself in the strange position of being recognized in public. Blessed with an equal measure of almost Biblical work ethic and a good old boy’s sense of humor, Coon has a way of putting his newfound fame into perspective. “That and a $1.39 will get you a McDonald’s cheeseburger,” he says with a booming laugh while hanging out at his shop on the outskirts of Steele. “I guess this is the closest we’ll ever be to being a rock star. It was a good feeling to get a lot of local publicity and things like that. Can’t complain.”

Coon, his partner Russ Lannom, and the rest of the House of Q gang auditioned for the show along with more than 400 barbecue teams from around the country. The team was selected to appear on the fifth season of the show and compete for the grand prize of $50,000. Coon and his crew filmed their episodes in Tampa, Florida, back in February, performing admirably in a competition that puts the skills of even the best pitmasters to the test. “It was all secretive, so nobody knew who we were competing against, and the way it’s set up you don’t know what you’re going to cook until the day of,” he says. “You open the cooler, and it’s a surprise, so you pretty much have to be prepared to cook any kind of mystery meat.”

Coon and his team won the first episode after turning heads with their versions of the secret ingredients, turkey and rack of lamb. House of Q then moved on to the next phase in the competition, losing in the semifinal round after turning in some beef ribs that failed to impress the judges. Coon mostly smokes pork ribs in competition and catering jobs and admits the beef ribs threw him a little bit. Still, he believed he had a solid plan, but in the end, the issue was with his ribs’ tenderness, and Coon knows exactly where he went wrong. “That’s actually what cost us the win. We had five slabs of ribs, so we staggered them in increments of time so we would know exactly where we would need to be for tenderness,” Coon says. “Long story short, we tasted the first three racks when we pulled them off, and they were perfect. So, the last two were actually my best looking slabs of ribs, but I didn’t taste them. I used the same time increments as what we did on the first three. We were disappointed we didn’t taste that, because it cost us the show in reality.”

Despite the loss, Coon says the experience was well worth the effort, and the exposure has been great for his business. A second generation contractor, Coon’s ultimate goal is to make smoking barbecue his full-time career. He believes the appearance on BBQ Pitmasters may just be the next step toward trading his hammer and nails for tongs and a basting brush. “We really did it for our sponsors more than for us. I don’t really care anything about being on TV, but we got picked, and we went ahead and went through the final selection process and all that, so we were able to go down there,” he says. “It was really neat. We had a ball doing it.”

The barbecue trail
Coon’s journey to the top of the barbecue mountain began when Coon was a child, learning smoking skills from his father while living on their small farm in Pinson. Coon’s father was always smoking meats on the weekends and for special occasions. “We cooked for all our church events when I was a kid, on Labor Day, the fourth of July, things like that. It was on a pit outside, all night long, just craziness, but we had a blast doing it,” he says.

Over the years Coon competed in a handful of small barbecue cook-offs, and 10 years ago, he entered his first major competition. He took his chances in the first Stokin’ The Fire cook-off, a sanctioned KCBS event held at Sloss Furnace in downtown Birmingham, on a dare. Coon admits he didn’t exactly know what he was doing. “Three of my buddies and me went down there and stayed all night. We were underneath the viaduct, and we had smoke going up. We thought that it was always supposed to smoke,” Coon says. “We about choked everybody to death underneath the viaduct all night long.”

Coon took advantage of the opportunity to learn the ropes of how KCBS competitions work. Unlike other competitions where the cooks can schmooze the judges, KCBS utilizes blind judging. The judges never see the competitors and vice-versa. In other words, personality can’t buy you an extra point or two. It’s all about the food, a fact Coon discovered at his very first competition. “I got a call the first event I ever did, which is unheard of. I was hooked,” Coon says. “That was the adrenaline rush I’ve always wanted. I’ve fished and hunted and everything else under the moon, and nothing has ever been like this right here. I mean it consumed me.”

These days Coon and House of Q are on the road 40 weekends out of the year, competing in 34-36 KCBS events and appearing at a handful of private events. Coon credits his patient family, wife Kristin and son Mason, for giving him the chance to pursue his obsession for the perfect barbecue. “I have the best wife in the world,” he says.

House of Q is earning prize money, winning competitions, and is sought after as an instructor as well regularly holding Barbecue 101 classes for barbecue newbies. He’s not terribly private about his methods, for instance, he uses cherry and applewood to smoke his meat, staying away from hickory unless he’s working with a slab of ribs unusually thick. He makes his own rub, a concoction of, among other ingredients, garlic, cumin, and chili powder. The team’s sauce, Granny’s BBQ Sauce, is a huge seller. It’s even used by a couple of dozen teams on the KCBS circuit.

The work Coon has put into House of Q has paid off tremendously. In 97 KCBS events he has finished in the Top Ten 46 times, and he finished 18th in the world in the Barbecue category at the World Food Championships in Las Vegas in August 2013. Coons has achieved all of this success while holding down his day job running the other family business, J. Coon Contracting. Since he spends many a Friday afternoon trimming ribs and seasoning butts for a weekend catering gig, the conversation inevitably turns to ‘cue.’ “I love it. It’s my passion,” Coon says.

“I don’t want to do anything else.”

Classroom in the Forest

st-clair-outdoor-classroomStory by Carol Pappas
Photography by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

It’s not your typical classroom – no desks, no books, no windows to gaze out of and daydream. And that’s precisely the point.

After all, this classroom is outdoors in the middle of nature, where students are schooled by seeing, touching and learning about all that surrounds them. It’s called Classroom in the Forest, and the St. Clair County Soil and Water Conservation District partnered with the Forestry Service and 4-H to create it.

In the fall, students were in real classrooms in Springville, Ashville and Steele learning about wildlife, trees and the other treasures of the forest. By late spring, they were able to see it for themselves in a classroom of a different sort.

Lyman Lovejoy opened his 360-acre property in Ashville to the project, hoping to encourage youngsters to develop an appreciation for the great outdoors.

About 250 students rotated ‘stations,’ learning essentials about wildlife and tree identification and “what you find in the forest,” said Charity Mitcham, district administrative and project coordinator. “Our purpose was to get them out on the land and teach them about trees, wildlife, soil and water.”

She credited Lovejoy with giving students the ability to reach that goal. “It would not have been possible without Lyman. It is gorgeous property with acres of trees and wildlife.”

lyman-lovejoy“I grew up working at Camp Cosby where my father was caretaker,” said Lovejoy. “Kids today have their thumbs on a keyboard. We want to get kids in the middle of the woods, out on the grass or in a field. It is so invigorating to see them in the woods, enjoying the outdoors and being active.”

Without this kind of program, “we are losing a generation,” he said. “Fishing and hunting are a lost art.” He wants to reverse that trend with Classroom in the Forest. “I get so excited to see their eyes light up when they ask, ‘What kind of tree is this? What kind of fish is this? Where does food come from?’ ”

With children spending so much time indoors with computers, video games and television, they tend to miss out on the allure of the outdoors. With this program, they are able to appreciate the scenery around them. They learn the value in it. And, Mitcham noted, they are really impressed when they see an Extension Service agent actually catch a fish in Lovejoy’s nearby pond.

It’s those memorable lessons that Mitcham and Lovejoy hope will stick with them the rest of their lives. And it’s why they’ll do it again next year – bigger and better than ever.

Chasing their passion

dsc_7679

Riding the rapids on Kelly Creek

Story by Carol Pappas
Photography by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

Days of heavy rainfall gave way to an overcast sky, a brief clearing that signaled the go-ahead to a band of adventurous kayakers from points all around St. Clair County and beyond.

Their destination? Kelly Creek, home of Class 3 rapids that beckon them whenever the water is just right.

On this day, the rain-swollen rapids created the perfect run for these seasoned kayakers and in a moment’s notice, they answered the call to meet at a makeshift, roadside launch at a bridge on U.S. 78 near Brompton. It’s their “put in” spot, where kayaks are unloaded and hoisted to the edge, readying for the run. Designated drivers are part of a shuttle team that heads to the “take out” spot at the run’s watery finish line.

What happens in between is nothing short of kayaker against nature, a quest to master the elements.

Ben Bellah, who lives about 10 minutes away on the outer reaches of Leeds, describes Kelly Creek as a “micro gorge” with Kelly Creek Falls, a 30 to 35 foot cascading waterfall located miles downstream. After the falls, the next take out is another few miles of flat water chocked full of log jams and private land.

“On the east coast, these Class 5 rapids may stand up to a standard Class 3 or 4. However, Kelly Creek Falls looks like a drop straight out of Yellowstone,” Bellah said. “Imagine cliff walls taller than a three-story house.”

One by one, members of the group put in, skillfully launching their kayaks like a seal would slide down the smooth hollow of a muddy bank.

First encounter is a three-drop rapid. “Once you’re in it, you don’t want to hike out,” warns Bellah.

None of the points along the way have names, so Bellah just describes them. There is an S run after the entrance rapid. You go through a slot of foam, and the water swirls.

Here, the banks are very steep and overgrown. “There are giant boulders not too many climbers know about.” But some do, and it isn’t unusual to see them take advantage of their find.

Up ahead are the railroad tracks. “When you see the tracks, the current flip-flops left to right.” Next, you’ll find play holes, where kayakers can “surf, spin around and get wet,” he says. “You can hike down there.”

There is what he calls an “egg dropper” right above the first gorge drop. At the cliff rapid, you must go right or left to reach one of the best playholes. Left takes you to the best one, he adds.

Left or right, split second decision-making is all a part of the run. “It’s like chess. You have to make the right move to connect the dots. You drop into a hole and then you drop into the best hole,” he said. Head right, and it’s “one small drop, then another, and the water is pushing you.”

The next cliff rapid goes left or right as well. The water is curling and boiling as you slide between the rocks. The second cliff rapid is an experience. “The cliff wall curves, and the water pushes you against the wall and pushes you out.”

Go .10 miles, and it drops 75 feet. It’s 300 yards to the cliff rapids, where it drops another 80-90 feet. “It’s really, really good whitewater.”

In all, it’s about 17 minutes from top to top, meaning from put in to take out and back to put in. The run itself is five to 10 minutes.

“I love to go fast,” he says. But not always.  The scenery along the way is something to behold, worth slowing down to catch a glimpse. “Rhododendron is everywhere.” The rock face is smooth and imposing. And the flight of a heron is a thing of beauty.

Bellah said he enjoys a solo trip down Kelly Creek rapids, giving him a chance to experience it all – the beauty, the adventure, the thrill. “I feel a sense of home because there is so much in that creek that nobody knows about. It replenishes my soul.”

At 23, he has found his calling in the outdoors and wants to share with others the exhilaration he has experienced. He is moving to Colorado, where he will be teaching folks — children and adults — how to roll a kayak. He hopes one day to be a guide at the Grand Canyon.

For him, whether it’s Kelly Creek or somewhere out west, he is just “chasing a passion.”

From amercianwhitewater.org

Kelly Creek is short, small, fun, and very close to Birmingham. The good part begins in Kerr Gap just off I20 exit 147, east of Birmingham not far from Moody. It is somewhat similar to Chitwood, but runs longer due to an upstream swamp. The swamp acts like a sponge, making flow peaks less severe. I agonized over whether to list this as a III or a IV. The vast majority of the run consists of class III’s, but there are a couple rapids that are at least III+’s and may be solid IV’s at some levels

There is a short warmup after the Hwy 78 bridge, then the class II and III begins. You pass under a railroad bridge, and the drops get gradually bigger. There are a couple easily avoided undercuts. The rapids are all drop/pool. Two of the rapids towards the end are fairly large and might be IV or IV-. It’s hard to characterize the boundary between III and IV on micro creeks.

Liberty House Guitars — Update

Scooter-Oi-Guitar-FundraiserSPECIAL UPDATE — Fundraiser for Scooter Oi

On July 5, 2014, a benefit concert was held at The Beacon for Skooter Oi. Skooter and his wife Carolyn Jones own and operate Liberty House Guitar Shop.

Skooter suffers from non-alcohol related cirrhosis of the liver. His prognosis is unpredictable, and his condition is managed largely through diet. 

The benefit concert, which was organized by Skooter’s friend, Jamison Taylor featured singers and songwriters.  The plan is to make this an annual event to help musicians with health problems offset their medical bills.

Contributions can be made to:
Alabama Musicians Care
℅ Metro Bank
800 Martin Street South
Pell City, Alabama  35128

For more information, go to www.alabamamc.org


 

liberty-house-guitarsStory and Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

When the house lights dim, and the stage lights come up, anticipation sweeps through an audience like wind blowing through a stand of pine trees.

Unnoticed and unknown are those backstage, in the wings and on the catwalks. The artist is the focal point, and the performance is everything. Those who are hidden are the technicians and gaffers who make up the production crew.

Their job is to make the show great. The lights, sound, timing and even the performance itself is driven by the crew.

Nothing happens by chance. On the stage is a clock, seen by everyone in the crew as well as the performers. When the stage lights come up, every sound and move is carefully planned, timed and executed with precision.

Stage right and stage left hide instrument technicians, ready to spring into action should any instrument slide out of tune, lose a string or have some other electronic or technical difficulty. In the back of the auditorium are sound and lighting technicians ready to make instant adjustments to overcome any anomaly that may arise.

If a drummer drops a drum stick, one magically appears in his hand. If a guitar loses a string , slips out of tune or suffers some electronic malfunction, another guitar is slipped into place, plugged in and turned on so that not a beat is missed. Being in tune is a given.

Each instrument is carefully set up to eliminate variation and to suit the playing artist. Perfect. There is no room for error.

Hard work, long hours and intense pressure on both a professional and personal level are the hallmarks of top venue concert production. The impromptu atmosphere is an act. It is a facade that conceals a tough, professionally executed schedule that lasts from 60 to 180 minutes or more.

Overruns are costly. The union workers go on overtime. Casino venues have show curfews. They want the audience back on the casino floor. The clock is everything. Precision and perfection are demanded. One mistake or miscue can cascade into a disaster.

This is the crucible where Pell City’s Liberty House Guitar Shop was forged.

A testimony to the meticulous nature of concert production is the stage clock over the passageway to the back room of the shop on U.S. 78 East. Scooter’s Clock hangs as a reminder that everyone has to work together to get it done right.

It is the same Scooter Oi Carolyn Jones met when Scooter was doing lights for Lynyrd Skynyrd and writing a backstage newsletter for the band. What started as a ploy by Carolyn’s brother to use her as “blonde bait” to get backstage grew into a successful professional and personal partnership that has lasted almost 20 years. Carolyn did not get a backstage pass for her brother, but Scooter did get her phone number, and she got his.

Two weeks after they met, Scooter was doing lights for Peter Frampton in Las Vegas, where Carolyn was working for a company that supplied uniforms and linens to the hotel industry. She went to the concert in hopes of seeing Scooter. When Scooter saw her, he said, “Look, if you want to hang out with us, you either have to be real entertaining, or you have to work.”

Work she did. Wearing high heels, business suit, makeup and puffy blonde hair, Carolyn pushed loaded equipment boxes out to the trucks as if she were one of the crew. She never looked back.

For 10 years, Scooter was Peter Frampton’s production manager, and Carolyn worked as his guitar technician. Life on the road is hard, and a 10-year run with an artist like Frampton is unheard of. Yet they did it.

Scooter, with his Dark Places, Inc. production company, was able to administer a crew and manage Frampton’s concerts successfully. During the off seasons, Scooter worked the rodeo circuit doing light and sound production. When the concert season came back, it was on the road again, primarily with Frampton.

Little more than four years ago, Scooter and Carolyn decided to come off the road. Carolyn wanted to settle close to her mother, and the concert production business was beginning to change. Scooter was interested in starting a live venue, “but the more I looked into it, the less attractive it became.” Instead, when he saw the owner putting up a for rent sign on their location, Scooter “put skid marks on the road in front of the building,” and decided to open their shop.

Scooter’s understanding of sound and lighting equipment, combined with Carolyn’s technical expertise with guitars has made The Liberty House Guitar shop a key asset for serious musicians.

Carolyn carefully inspects and adjusts every guitar that comes through Liberty House Guitar Shop. When setting up an instrument, Carolyn provides the owner with a specification sheet showing the exact settings, and the changes she has made. Using the data she provides, meaningful changes can be made to fit the artist’s preferences. “When something changes, this makes it much easier to identify what it is, and set it right.”

Jazz guitarist Reggie Stokes from Birmingham said, “Since I found this shop, I don’t take my instruments anywhere else. The work Carolyn does is awesome, and word is spreading fast. It is unusual to find a shop where the people really know what they are looking at, and know how to meet my needs. You don’t find this in the large music stores, and it is worth the drive.” According to Stokes, he and his close friend, Keith “Cashmere” Williams, are sold on the work done at Liberty House Guitar Shop.

Scooter is equally meticulous when it comes to audio visual and sound equipment. “We are about sales, service, installation and education.” When setting up a system for a church or business, Scooter and Carolyn take time to learn exactly what the customer wants the system to do.

They specify the appropriate equipment based on the customer’s objectives, then set the system up accordingly. Their strength lies in simplifying the system and training the customer.

“We label everything to eliminate any guesswork. It takes time, but it is worth it.”

Two years ago, Liberty House Guitar Shop set up in-house recording capability, so musicians could make demo CDs and collaborate with one another in a studio environment. Though in its infancy, Scooter thinks it has promise. Recording is an integral part of learning how to play on a higher level. Collaboration builds skill quickly. In addition, Carolyn’s daughter, Pink, is teaching guitar, violin and mandolin in the shop.

Long hours and years on the road set a firm foundation for Carolyn and Scooter. Liberty House Guitar Shop is, for them, more than a business. It represents a transition in life, coming home, settling down and letting the roots grow.

Editor’s Note: For a glimpse at the work of some of Liberty House Guitar clients, check out reggiesstokesmusic.com and cashmerewilliams.com.