Bonsai Master

Pell City man creates living art

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Mackenzie Free

Blame it on Valentine’s Day. That’s when Boomer Meason received a gift from his wife, Melody, that would end up changing his life. The gift was a “bonsai growing kit,” which, he admits was a challenge for a man with the “brownest thumb ever.”

Thinking it would be fun, but not expecting them to survive, he dutifully planted the seeds. A couple of weeks later, after returning from a trip out of town to their home in Pell City, the couple was surprised to see the seeds thriving in their growing pots.

“At that point, I had no idea what to do with them,” Boomer confesses. “So, I got on YouTube and figured it out. I watched tons of videos and learned a lot. I learned that it’s not just what you can create, but that what you can do is limitless.”

Bonsai is not a type of tree, but rather, the cultivation of a plant and its aesthetics to fall within a specific set of conditions. Bonsai is considered both a horticultural practice and an art form. The goal is for the grower to cultivate a plant or a tree to be a healthy version of itself, but small enough to be grown in a shallow dish. In fact, the word, bonsai, literally means “tree in a dish.”

Melody wins award for her serissa bonsai

There is so much more than that, however, to understand bonsai. It involves learning as much as you can about each of the species that you are working with. It involves clipping, wiring, and weighing down the branches that need manipulation.

A bonsai artist must first see a vision for the plant. Then he sets about figuring out how to make the plant fulfill that vision.

Most of all, bonsai requires patience. Each of the phases of growing and training the plant requires grooming, then waiting for the plant to recover, waiting for changes to take effect, rewiring, pruning again, then waiting for the right season to make the next change.

A centuries-old art form made popular in Japan, bonsai evolved from the ancient Chinese art of “penjing,” which includes landscapes or scenes in a pot. The Japanese art put more emphasis on the tree itself.

Traditionally, bonsai are trees or bushes that are pruned to create a smaller version over several years. The mission of the bonsai artist is to create a tree that looks like a tiny version of a mature tree, but without obvious evidence of human intervention in the process.

A typical tree in nature can live to be hundreds, sometimes thousands of years old. In contrast, a well-cared for bonsai can live indefinitely due to the constant care and promotion of new growth given by the artist.

Boomer received those first seeds in 2020, shortly before the pandemic changed so much in the world. “I always ask people if they have a COVID hobby,” he laughs. “My wife’s is kayaking. Mine is bonsai. We couldn’t do a lot of the things we normally did, but we spent a lot of time working on these. I spent the whole first year trying to not kill the trees.”

He took to the hobby like a duck to water. His “brown thumb” now a thing of the past, he has close to 300 plants in various “pre-bonsai” stages. It has taken more than three years to accumulate that many plants to work with to create bonsai. He has more than two dozen that are in shape to be considered officially show-ready bonsai.

Pencil drawing by Boomer’s grandmother, artist Evelyn Whatley, included with the display at the bonsai show

Although both his mother, Leah Whatley Meason, and his grandmother, Evelyn Whatley, were artists, he has never had an outlet to develop his artistic talents. He admits that his career in manufacturing does not always engage his artistic side.  It does, however, make it possible for him to fuel his passion financially.

Buying that many plants at nurseries to work with can be costly, but Boomer gets about 20% of his plants from the wild, a practice known as “yamadori.”

Typically done in the spring, just before the plant’s growing season, a bonsai artist digs up plants from the wild, along with dirt from around the plant, brings it home and nurtures it to help it recover from the shock of transplanting. When the plant is ready, the pruning and training begins.

Another technique involves creating new plants from established ones from cuttings and air layering. A propagation technique similar to grafting, air layering is the practice of cutting a branch and wrapping the “wound” with special moss to encourage the growth of a new plant.

“You do everything in bonsai according to what the species needs and what the tree is telling you to do,” says Boomer. “Bonsai people probably know more about roots than most botanists do. The texture and nutritional details of the root systems are so important. When you do serious work on a tree, and you reduce the root system, you must reduce the canopy to make sure it can still survive.”

The deeper Boomer dug into his new hobby, the more information he craved. He began messaging questions to some of the YouTube video creators. He read all he could find on the subject.

World-renowned bonsai master Peter Chan’s book Bonsai Beginner’s Bible became his go-to guide. He spent countless hours watching channels like Chan’s Herons Bonsai. “His videos are geared toward people who want to get into it, but not spend a lot of money,” Boomer explains. “The way he works on his trees really helps you. And he speaks to you in a way that’s easy to understand.” Another bonsai expert, Ben Kirkland of Appalachian Bonsai, strongly suggested that Boomer get in contact with his local bonsai society.

At first, Boomer wasn’t ready to share his artistic efforts with anyone else. After picking his way along the path for three years with only the internet as his teacher, he finally reached out to the Alabama Bonsai Society (ABS).

The group meets for monthly workshops and to encourage each other and share the progress of the plants they’re working with. They also hold an annual show at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens. Boomer can’t say enough about how the group has helped him. “I’ve never worked with a more positive group of people,” he adds. “Their support and advice were so helpful in building my confidence.”

Through the Alabama Bonsai Society, Boomer met John Walker, who curates the Meyers Bonsai Terrace at Aldridge Gardens in Hoover and is one of the best trained bonsai artists in the state. Boomer buys some of his plants through Walker’s company, Walking Tree Bonsai, which sells mature bonsai and plants ready to transform into bonsai. He also admits to “hanging out at Hazelwood’s” (nursery) at least twice a month scouting for plants to transform.

Sometimes treasures can literally be found in your back yard, like the Chinese privet Boomer dug up from his yard in 2021. The plant was still healthy, but not thriving, so he put it in a container and began working with it. Over two years later, he entered it in the ABS annual bonsai show and won his intermediate level in the broadleaf evergreen category.

“I have a lot of American Elm trees, wisteria, flowering plants, red maples and azaleas that have come out of my yard and from my mom’s yard.” says Boomer. He says the easiest to work with is the Chinese privet but added that he’s had the most fun with ficus trees because one of his mentors, Nigel Saunders, works with them and has given him a lot of inspiration.

A bonsai can be created using almost any plant with woody stems. Generally, one can expect to spend a minimum of two years pruning and cultivating a tree to get it small enough to thrive in a shallow dish (a requirement of bonsai).

ABS’s bonsai show director Anika Paperd explains. “Some species like a trident maple that grows quickly, you could do it in as little as two years. You’re going to begin refining it to develop the branches and shape. We use wiring and pruning techniques to cause the branches to split to make them spread and form a canopy on the tree.”

One of the most fascinating aspects of bonsai art is that it is never finished. That’s because the tree continues to grow and react to its environment. The artist must continue to maintain it and adapt it as conditions change. “It’s much like being a sculptor where your sculpture is breathing and continues to grow,” Paperd emphasizes. “It’s a constant progression.”

From start to that continued progression, a bonsai is all about the vision in the mind of the artist. It is nature inspired and human coerced. “Every time you work on it, you’ll either find a new inspiration or another aspect of it that changes it. Or you just keep working on the original plan you had envisioned,” says Boomer.

“You are trying to create the aesthetic of a really old tree in something you can pick up and carry around,” Boomer concludes, holding up a tiny juniper bonsai that is springing from a crater in a softball-sized rock. “My wife found this rock while kayaking. We both thought it would make a great container for a bonsai. So, I planted a Chinese juniper in the hole, and it’s pretty cool.”

Melody has now joined her husband in his hobby. She has developed her skills to the point that she, too, brought home an award at the spring bonsai show for her serissa plant, a deciduous evergreen.

Boomer’s quite a few years shy of retirement, but he says bonsai will be important in his future plans. He looks forward to the additional hours to devote to his art. As to whether he will ever be able to see a profit from his work, Boomer admits that he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to part with his creations. “There’s a little bit of me in each of them.”

And those Valentine’s Day seeds? One of the black spruce seeds lives today as a beautiful bonsai on Boomer’s back deck. Not bad for a guy with a brown thumb.

Editor’s note: Next year will be Alabama Bonsai Society’s 50th Anniversary. Their mission is to bring awareness to the community and to share the art form of bonsai. For more information about bonsai and the Alabama Bonsai Society, check out alabamabonsai.org.

Nature preserved

Big Canoe Creek park is set to open soon

Story Scottie Vickery
Photos by Mackenzie Free
Submitted photos

Not long after watching eight turkeys disappear into the forest, Doug Morrison stood on a wooded trail overlooking a stream that flows into Big Canoe Creek. The only sound was the deep whistle of a great crested flycatcher, and Morrison felt pure serenity.

“This is God’s museum,” he said of the surroundings. “There are so many forms of life out here – plants, animals, fish. When you get out in nature and just stop for a moment and take it all in, it’s incredible.”

Raetta Young and horse, Fancy Rae, along the trail

Soon, many others will be able to experience Morrison’s joy when the “museum,” otherwise known as Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve in Springville, opens to the public. The project has been a long time coming, but after 14 years of study, planning, roadblocks and hard work, the opening date is nearing, hopefully late October or early November. Morrison, manager of the preserve, couldn’t be more thrilled.

“This is going to be huge,” he said. The preserve – 422 acres of unspoiled terrain – will provide hikers (experienced or beginners), mountain bikers, horse owners, and birding and flora and fauna enthusiasts the chance to unwind, learn and enjoy the great outdoors.

“Being outside in nature can soothe the soul,” Morrison said, and the timing of the fall opening is perfect.  “This place shines when the leaves turn. It’s beautiful in the fall.” 

Big Canoe Creek, which is part of the Coosa River and flows on the northern boundary of the property, is a vital part of the preserve and a major contributor to the beauty. The main section of the creek, which has been described as “a jewel in the crown of Alabama’s biodiversity,” is more than 50 miles long and flows into Neely Henry Lake. According to The Friends of Big Canoe Creek website, the creek has four major tributaries flowing into it: Gulf Creek, Muckleroy Creek, and two “Little Canoe” Creeks.

The creek is home to more than 50 species of fish, including the rare Trispot Darter, which is listed as “threatened” by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service under the Endangered Species Act. Salamanders, snails, crayfish, turtles and mussels – including eight federally listed freshwater species – can also be found in the waters. Just recently, in 2022 the Canoe Creek Clubshell (Pleurobema Athearni), a freshwater mussel found only in the Big Canoe Creek watershed, was listed as “endangered” under the Endangered Species Act.

“Alabama is fourth in the nation in biodiversity, but we’re first in the nation for biodiversity for aquatic species,” Morrison said. “That’s because of all of our rivers and waterways. That’s the kind of thing we want to teach our kids. Our vision is to get kids aways from their electronic devices, get them outside, and teach them about our biodiversity.”

With a motto of “explore and discover,” Morrison said the goal is to soon add outdoor classrooms and bring in experts from agencies like U.S. Fish and Wildlife and the Geological Survey of Alabama to teach students more about the world around them.

Until then, the preserve itself – the creek and 10 miles of hiking, biking and horse trails – is already the ultimate classroom and the perfect background for solace. 

“This is really going to be something special,” Morrison said. “This preserve is going to be an asset to every individual who wants to get away from the hustle and bustle.”

Partners in preservation

Morrison knows the importance of that firsthand. After all, a search for a more peaceful life is what prompted him and his wife, Joannie, to move to Springville – just across the creek from the preserve – 24 years ago. “She was looking at the house, and I was looking at the creek,” he said.

A friend introduced him to kayaking, and after a short time of paddling, “I started learning about the critters in our watershed, and I started seeing issues from bad development,” Morrison said. “Sedimentation is a huge issue in our waterways – it’s the number one pollutant.”

Not long after Morrison fell in love with the area that’s now home to the preserve, he learned that he and his community was in danger of losing it. “In 2007, they were planning to develop this, and then in 2008, the economy went south, and the plans were scrapped,” he said. The scare stirred up an interest in preserving and protecting the land.

Fast-forward to 2008, and the effort started gaining traction. The Friends of Big Canoe Creek, a grassroots organization, which Morrison served as president from 2008-2020, learned about Forever Wild Land Trust, which focuses on securing land for public use.

They nominated the land for designation as a Forever Wild site, and after nine years of numerous delays and roadblocks, the first 382 acres were purchased by Forever Wild in 2018, and 40 more acres were added the next year.

St. Clair County and City of Springville leaders – both former and current – embraced the project and have provided tremendous financial support, along with the St. Clair County Economic Development Council.

The Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources, Freshwater Land Trust, The Friends of Big Canoe Creek, Greater Birmingham Community Foundation and The Nature Conservancy have been vital partners, as well, Morrison said. Additionally, Dean Goforth who owns nearby Homestead Hollow, was a key player in making the acquisition a reality. “I don’t think this would have happened without Dean,” Morrison said.

Springville Mayor Dave Thomas pushed for the formation of the Big Canoe Creek Preserve Partners, a nonprofit organization that helps provide sustainable funding of the preserve. As a result, individual and corporate partners have come on board, including Community Foundation of Greater Birmingham, EBSCO Industries, Norris Paving & Excavating, Schoel Engineering, Amerex, Lovejoy Realty, KEBCO, BlueCross BlueShield of Alabama, All American Ford, United Way of Central Alabama and Lawley Resource Management.

There is one key donor for the Preserve Partners who wishes to remain anonymous. “This fella just continually steps up with generous donations at critical times when needed. I wish I could tell you his name, but again, just another one of those good folks in our community that steps up. This community is all in!,”  Morrison said.

“It’s been amazing to be a part of this,” Morrison said. “I’m just so proud of and grateful for this community and how hard people have worked to preserve, protect and support this place. Sometimes I have to pinch myself.”

Discover and explore

Although there were a few old logging trails, the land offered a blank slate. Plans were made, and Granger Waid of Norris Paving & Excavating and Joey Breighner of Schoel Engineering, helped ensure the best design came to fruition. In addition to their companies donating tens of thousands of dollars in in-kind work, they provided invaluable input for the project.

Dusty and Mary Lou Davis

“Granger’s vision has everything to do with what this is going to be,” Morrison said. “He brought changes to the original concept that made a tremendous difference, and Schoel Engineering took his concept and did the drawings. Those guys working together was just a godsend.”

For Waid, helping with the project was a no-brainer. “This is something I believe in and I’m passionate about it,” he said. “I’ve been playing in this creek since I was 2 feet tall. People need a place to be able to go and get outdoors.”

 Breighner agreed. A 20-year resident himself, “I’m excited about the preserve and what it means to our community.” In addition to the recreational aspect, he pointed to the educational value it holds and looks forward to people being able to “see what the preserve has to offer.”

Through his work on the Springville Planning Commission, he developed a friendship with Morrison, who discussed plans for the preserve as they were building it. “I could see Doug’s passion for the project and when I toured it, I saw some needs.” As executive vice president of Schoel Engineering, he put his and his company’s knowledge and expertise to work for the preserve, donating land surveying and engineering work.

Pointing to all the partnerships and community support involved, Springville Mayor Dave Thomas said, “One of the things Springville and St. Clair County as a whole have earned as a reputation is the level of cooperation rarely seen elsewhere. Everybody appreciates the potential of the preserve that will outlive and outlast us all. It’s generational.”

He talked of the educational component with outdoor classrooms and the ability to bring in experts in the field to teach teachers from around the state who will go back to their schools and teach. Field trips will bring their lessons to life, giving them so much more than a textbook can.

“We have set the bar high to be an example for others that here is what we can do if we work together,” Thomas said. “This is a prime example of people bringing energy that translates into synergy.”

Focusing on details

The attention to preservation will be evident as soon as visitors drive into the parking lot. The top lot has room for cars, trucks and horse trailers, while the bottom lot has plenty of additional spots for cars. The two lots will be separated by a bioretention area with special landscaping designed to filter rainwater and runoff through gravel, sand and topsoil. “We’ll use plants that filter the pollutants from cars and clean the water,” Morrison said, adding that the area will eventually feature a seating area at one end.

Since a major goal of the preserve will be education, there will be a sign with a QR code to connect visitors to videos and photos that explain the concept of bioretention and document the building process. “This is something we hope to promote for any kind of development so that we can trap sediment and clean the water that’s going into our waterways,” Morrison said.

Leaving riparian buffers intact is a vital part of the preserve, as well. “The forest is a riparian buffer for the stream,” Morrison said. “It’s basically leaving the natural vegetation near a stream bank alone” so the trees, plants and shrubs act as buffers to pollutants and help control erosion.  That’s why the trails offer a view of the creeks and streams in most areas rather than meandering alongside them.

“You can see the water and you can get down to it if you want, but we left all the vegetation near the streams alone,” Morrison said. “People come out here and say, ‘Look how clear this water is.’ Just look around. You have nothing but trees. The natural vegetation filters everything.

There are a variety of species doing the work. The woods are filled with mountain laurel, native azaleas and oak leaf hydrangeas. There are Bottlebrush buckeye shrubs, red and sugar maple trees, pines and beech trees.

“I call this area Beech Tree Hollow because there are beech trees all over the place,” Morrison said during a recent walk through the woods. “Beech trees keep their leaves longer than other trees, and you don’t really know how many are in here until wintertime.”

Ferns are everywhere, as well. “We’ve got so many different ferns out here, it’s unbelievable,” he said. “I brought a horticulturist from the Birmingham Botanical Gardens out here, and I couldn’t keep him on the trail. He kept wandering off and saying, ‘Look at this, look at this.’”

Morrison gets most excited about the preserve’s aquatic diversity. The Trispot Darter, for example, had not been spotted in Alabama in nearly 50 years before it was discovered in one of Big Canoe’s tributaries in 2008. The removal of Goodwin’s Mill Dam in 2013 brought even more species. The dam was built in the 1880s for a grist mill but hadn’t been in use since the mill closed in the 1940s

Restoring the creek’s flow has provided a larger and more suitable habitat for fish, mussels and other mollusks. Since the dam was removed, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service returned just a couple of months ago and was delighted to find the Canoe Creek Clubshell near the site. In 2013, prior to the dam removal, these were not present.  “The fish passage returned after the dam removal. Fish serve as host for the mussels, so the fish passage returning was definitely a good thing for these mussels”, Morrison said.

 “In a stream in the middle of the Nature Preserve, the Geological Survey of Alabama found a Western Blacknose Dace, a small fish that hasn’t been documented in the Big Canoe Creek Watershed since the  ‘80s, so that was a great find, and we will continue to explore,” Morrison said.

News like that is what keeps Morrison motivated and excited about the preserve’s future and impact. He recently stopped at one of his favorite spots on the southern side of the woods to reflect on the opportunity he’ll soon have to share this piece of paradise with the rest of the world. Chances are, he knows the terrain better than anyone else, and he feels a special connection to the land.

“I call this section Slab Creek,” Morris said, pointing to the giant slabs of rock that line the stream’s bed. “They just keep going and going. It’s like a stack of dominoes that got toppled over.” Later, he pointed out two neighboring trees that meet as if in an embrace. “These are the kissing trees,” he said, shortly before telling of another huge tree that was lost in a storm. “I felt like I knew it personally.”

Morrison’s greatest hope is that visitors will love the preserve as much as he does, treat it with the respect it deserves, and treasure it for generations to come.

“It was a struggle getting this thing going,” he acknowledged. “There have been so many trials and tribulations, ups and downs, ebbs and flows. Right now, there’s just good things happening, and I sometimes feel like it’s just destiny. I am very grateful for our Mayor, Dave Thomas, and his leadership through this, the City Council, St. Clair County Commission and Forever Wild. They are seeing what this can become, the educational opportunities, the outdoor recreation and the economic value of greenspace.

For more information about Big Canoe Creek Nature Preserve, or to make a donation to Big Canoe Creek Preserve Partners, visit bigcanoecreekpreserve.org.

Bear Claw Treehouse

Off the grid in a childhood dream

Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Richard Rybka

Whether it’s the spirit of adventure we remember from Swiss Family Robinson or the memories of reading the Magic Treehouse children’s books, thoughts of treehouses often elicit smiles and fond memories.

That sense of wonder and freedom, of resilience and self-reliance often makes us remember times long gone. A treehouse is pure childhood magic.

Now imagine that treehouse on the edge of a creek saturated in history, a place steeped in the natural beauty of woods and wildlife. Sitting on a small rustic overlook, you watch the water for movement. It could be fish, turtles, beaver or otter. Beyond the creek, you hear a noise and barely catch a glimpse of a doe and her fawn slipping back into the woods. It is transformative, experiencing the wonders of nature all around.

Kitchen area

There is such a treehouse, and as a guest here, you’ll be immersed in nature throughout your stay. Even though it’s called Bear Claw Treehouse, you most likely won’t see a bear. You will see plenty of other wildlife, if you’re quiet enough, including turkey, beaver and eagles.

The last sign of a bear, though, was over 10 years ago. They say he did leave a distinct bear paw print in the mud at the edge of the creek. And, so, Bear Claw Treehouse began.

Situated in Springville between Barker Mountain and Washington Valley, this unique rental property is owned by Jim and Melany Harrelson. Featuring a translucent roof for stargazing and firefly viewing, this one-bedroom treehouse is simple, but outfitted with all the absolute necessities.

There’s a queen-sized bed and a kitchenette with an air fryer, microwave and coffee press. Guests can catch a hot shower in the 40-gallon oval tank from Tractor Supply with water provided by a Zodi shower pump.

The toilet facilities are two-fold. More delicate matters are dispersed by a pit latrine style leach system. There’s a freshly serviced port-a-potty for the more serious matters.

While they currently use a generator to power the lights and air conditioning for up to 10 hours a day, Jim Harrelson says things are about to be upgraded.  “We have gotten clearance to get electricity hooked up at the treehouse,” says Harrelson. “I put in the order last week, so it’s coming soon.” Since there is no refrigerator and no running water, Harrelson keeps visitors stocked with both water and ice in coolers on the porch.

Dining alfresco is the order of the day here. Just 50 yards away, there is a grilling and eating platform near the creek. A sign nearby reminds visitors of the history that was made on the ground beneath their feet nearly five centuries before. One could almost imagine encampments of explorers and, later, soldiers eating their rations on these very banks.

Hernando DeSoto’s team of explorers is believed to have entered Alabama near Piedmont and traveled down the Coosa River on their quest for gold. DeSoto and his band of nearly 700 followed the Coosa through the state for several months before heading west to Mississippi. Bear Claw Treehouse sits on the edge of Big Canoe Creek, a tributary to the Coosa.

Because of its abundance of available natural resources, including food and water, historians believe those conquistadors would have fished and camped nearby.

Less than three centuries later, General Andrew Jackson’s forces likely fished and camped in the same area as they headed to the nearby Creek village of Littafatchee to battle the Red Sticks in the Creek War of 1813-1814.

“There is really a great spirit on this land. There’s just so much history here,” says Harrelson. It’s something he wishes he had known more about in 2013 when he tried to get the Animal Planet series, Treehouse Masters, to design and build it. The premise of the former reality TV show was that people who wanted to have treehouses built would submit applications and if the situations were interesting enough, they might be chosen to be one featured as an on-air build.

In 2012, the Harrelsons purchased seven acres and divided it into two plots. They built their own home on five acres and saved the adjacent two acres to build an income property later. As they contemplated what type of structure to build on the two-acre plot, they received the unwelcome news that they wouldn’t be able to have a septic system. Still believing the property was perfect to support the activities of outdoor enthusiasts, the idea for a treehouse was born.

Being a fan of Pete Nelson and his Treehouse Masters show already, Harrelson submitted his application with pictures of the land. The producer interviewed them on Zoom and got back to them later with the news that they did not make the cut, ending up 26th on the list that only needed 18 for the show’s broadcast season. “Had I known the full history of the land, I believe I would have done a better job of pitching it to them,” says Harrelson.

Jim and Shep by the creek

In 2019, with his own vision in mind, Harrelson framed and built the treehouse on weekends as he had time and money. Subcontractors came in to help with specialties he couldn’t do. In October of 2021, the Harrelsons hosted their first guests, a couple from Illinois who were coming to visit relatives.

Since then, the Harrelsons have listed the property on Airbnb, VRBO and Hipcamp and have had a steady stream of guests. Guests are encouraged to bring fishing gear and fish in the creek or take the available canoe for a long explore in the water.

Apparently, guests are taking that advice to heart, as evidenced by a recent guestbook entry that reads, “We enjoyed sunset on the nightfall porch, swimming and fishing in the creek and lazing in the hammock chair while the boys fished. We loved watching daybreak through the ceiling each morning!”

Sitting on that nightfall porch, Harrelson fights back tears as he recounts the difficult journey that brought him to this peaceful place. It was another story of lives changed by the string of tornadoes that tore through the state on April 27, 2011.

The same system that brought tornadoes to Cullman and Hackleburg and devastated parts of Tuscaloosa obliterated most of the Harrelson’s neighborhood in Pleasant Grove.

Thankful to be alive and eager to leave that chapter behind, the couple found a property off Highway 23 in Springville. That’s where they are today, on a beautiful little property in the same valley that, at first sight, took away the breath of one 17-year-old Jim Harrelson, as he made his way on Highway 59 on his senior trip from Long Beach, Mississippi, to Niagara Falls, Canada.

“I was so moved when I saw the beauty of this valley, I said I’d live here one day,” says Harrelson. And he does. He offers you the chance to do the same, two nights at a time, in the magical whimsy of a treehouse.

For the love of music

Childhood fascination turns into lifetime skill for concertina maker

Story and photos by Elaine Hobson Miller

Bob Tedrow has been fascinated with concertinas since he was a child. He first saw them in cartoons, watching Geppetto the toymaker play one in “Pinocchio,” and Bashful in “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” He sat up and took notice when Bob Hope played one while singing to Jane Russell in the movie “Paleface,” although he admits he may have been more attracted to Jane than the instrument.

“I had an absurd interest in the instrument as a child, but I didn’t complete my first concertina until the late 80s,” says Tedrow, a newcomer to the town of Ashville. “It was rather more of a concertina-shaped object, actually. It was quite a few years until I began to get the hang of building nice instruments.”

Tedrow repaired this concertina for a man in Japan, who found him on the internet

A concertina is a free-reed instrument that consists of expanding and contracting bellows with buttons usually on both ends. Free-reed, says the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, is “a reed in a musical instrument … that vibrates in an air opening just large enough to allow the reed to move freely.”

The body is built from seasoned hardwoods, and the bellows are made of vegetable-tanned goat leather and neutral-Ph cotton mat board. “The levers, springs, etc., are made of various metals suitable for the task,” Tedrow says. As for the cotton mat board, that’s just “a sexy word for cardboard, but nice cardboard.”

It’s a precursor to the accordion, invented in the 1820s in England and used today in England, Ireland and Scotland. “It has 60 steel reeds, although it can have 120,” Tedrow says. “Each reed is tuned to a different pitch, and the concertina is fully chromatic. By pressing one of those buttons and moving the bellows you allow the concertina to produce a specific note, hopefully musical.”

Tedrow, 70, has built about 75 concertinas since that first one, selling them in his Homewood Musical Instrument Company for 30 years and now on the internet, too. Somewhere along the way, he also became fascinated with repairing stringed instruments, the area in which his shop specializes.

“My fascination is with the mechanics of an instrument,” he says. “I like fooling with the parts. I’m attracted to their nuts and bolts, with the process of building or repairing. The process never ends, either, because there’s always another one to be repaired.”

Homewood Music has been a fixture in that Birmingham suburb for 30 years. For the first 25, it was across the street from Homewood Park on Central Avenue but moved a bit closer to the heart of downtown Homewood on 28th Avenue South about five years ago. The shop buys, sells, repairs and restores stringed instruments – and a few concertinas. Tedrow has customers as far away as Japan due to his internet presence. “There are almost no shops like this anymore,” he says. “We’re a throwback to the early 1900s.”

“Luthier” is the formal name for what Tedrow and each crew member does. It’s hard to find luthiers like his three employees, who play and fix instruments. “I was working alone when Jason (Burns) wandered in more than 20 years ago,” he says. “He’s far better than me at repairing. Michael (Clayton), who has been with me for six years, has a sum of knowledge I can call on. Matthew (Williams) is the new boy, he has only been with me a few years.”

Matthew Williams (left), Michael Clayton (seated) and Jason Burns are the three luthiers on staff

Tedrow is from a small town in Colorado and moved to Homewood in 1987 because his wife, Klari, wanted to go to law school. “I did not marry a lawyer, I raised one,” he says. Klari, who is quite adept at playing a concertina Tedrow built for her, is now an immigration attorney. “We bought 60 acres in Ashville about two years ago, and we’re building a house there next to the small cabin we live in.”

Homewood was a great place to raise their three kids, who are upset because “we sold their house.” But he and Klari needed some space for their four dogs, which she runs through A.K.C. agility trials.

A real estate agent showed them several places, but they found their Ashville paradise on their own. “We bought directly from Derrick and Amy Heckman,” he says. “The property never even went on the market.”

When he lived in Homewood, Tedrow drove a 1928 Model A Ford back and forth to work. He occasionally drives it around Ashville now. “I have taken it to the town square a couple of times, where it marks its territory with several drops of leaked motor oil,” he says. “I also drive it to our mailbox at end of the road.”

His musical talent probably came from his grandmother and mother. The former was a “real good jazz piano player,” and his mother played guitar, mandolin and other stringed instruments. “Grandmom taught me to play the ukulele,” Tedrow says. He picked up other instruments on his own. “If we define ‘play’ generously, I play the guitar, banjo, bass, ukulele, mandolin, clarinet, saxophone and concertina,” says Tedrow. “I’m trying to learn the tambourine.”

While he played lots of bluegrass banjo in the 70s in Colorado, now he just plays a bit in the shop with visitors and customers. “I also play Irish tunes with my wife and a few close friends,” he says.

When he moved to Homewood, he went to a pawn shop in downtown Birmingham and told them he wanted to repair their instruments. “Sometimes people pawn instruments that need repair or restoration,” he explains. He opened a tiny shop across the street from the park. Then he walked into the office of the superintendent of music education for Birmingham city schools, Dr. Frank Adams, and got the job of repairing their stringed instruments. Later, he started repairing instruments for the education division of the Alabama Symphony Orchestra. Eventually, he had to expand his shop.

Despite his early musical training, he originally wanted to be a forest ranger. He met his wife at Colorado State, where both were in the forestry school. “I played in a bluegrass band with her brother,” Tedrow says. “We soon discovered there weren’t many jobs in forestry, and none in banjo playing. Occupational therapists were in great need, however, so I went back to school and got a degree in that field.” He worked as an OT in Colorado and North Carolina before coming to Birmingham. Although licensed as an OT in Alabama, he has yet to practice here. “I found that I was far more valuable to the state with a banjo,” he says.

For several years, he played Mr. Mom while Klari was in Cumberland School of Law. At the same time, he was doing repairs for those pawn shops, the City of Birmingham and the ASO. He continued to accumulate skills and tools. “I’m entirely self-taught, which just means I did things wrong for a long time,” he says.

At some point he decided to concentrate on one thing he could do as well as anybody. The concertina was an orphan instrument, meaning few people in the USA played one, as far as he was aware. “I never met anyone who did for many years, not in Alabama, anyway,” he says. “So, I bought one and took it apart. The first one I built I made the bellows section from a pair of my daughter’s discarded leather pants. In fact, I sat in church one day, having developed that concentrated stare where it looks like you’re listening, but your mind is far away. I figured it out that day: The bellows are like origami.”

It takes a long time to learn repairing well enough to make money at it, to be good and fast, Tedrow says. “Restoring vintage instruments is an entire other field than putting strings on a guitar,” he says. “It’s an art. You want it to look like the original, without devaluing it.”

When someone points out that what he does could be considered a play on the words, “occupational therapy,” he agrees. “I use the skills I learned as an OT when I teach guitar, banjo, ukulele, etc. I try to analyze how each student will best learn. Some learn best with their auditory skills, some students are cognitively oriented while others learn best with a physical approach.”

Bob and Klari Tedrow and their dogs have taken to country life in Ashville

Sometimes he or his staff will find a secret note in a vintage instrument they are repairing, a note left by the builder while the instrument was under construction. For example, “I’m sorry,” was carved into a “Mossman” dreadnought guitar from a luthier in Kansas in the 1980s. “The builder knew that one day in the far distant future a luthier like our Jason Burns would have a tricky job repairing this guitar,” Tedrow says. “He was apologizing in advance from 40 years ago. It was a note through time. Very clever and thoughtful.” A vintage violin contained a note in Latin that translated to, “In life I was silent, in death I sing.” Tedrow says that was the wood speaking.

In the windows of his shop, facing both inward and outward, are photos of artists and their instruments, ordinary people, some of them customers, most of the photos taken by Tedrow for publicity purposes.

He has a designated photo spot with several backdrops, special lighting and props. Photography is a hobby, he says. Facing outward in the windows are a couple of vintage photos of musicians from the towns he has lived in. “I like to think they are remembered,” he says.

Inside, violins, mandolins, banjos, ukuleles and guitars, acoustic and amplified, hang from the walls of his shop. Some are awaiting repairs, others for their owners to claim them. A glass display case shows off concertinas made and repaired by Tedrow. Tools such as lathes, saws and sanders give the appearance of a carpentry shop, and in a way, it is, because they usually have to make the broken parts they are replacing.

“My favorite job is working on vintage guitars,” says Jason Burns, 45, who started learning his craft as a teenager working on his own guitars. “Of course, I have learned a ton over the years from Bob and other luthiers.” He plays the guitar, ukulele, banjo and the upright bass.

He calculates that over the last 22 years, he and Tedrow have spent 46,000 hours together, and Burns cannot imagine what life would be like without his boss and friend. “He’s a wealth of knowledge about way more than musical instruments,” he says of Tedrow. “He’s the guy who showed me how to become a better person, how to stay married and even how to tie a tie. The list could go on and on. The world needs more people like him.”

Matthew Williams, 26, got into “all of this” because he couldn’t afford the guitars he wanted. “So, I thought with my woodworking background, I could just build them,” he says. “It turns out that’s easier said than done.”

He says he “annoyed himself into a job” by buying “project” guitars, going into Homewood Music and getting Tedrow, Burns and Clayton to tell him how to fix them. “I did this for years, and after they got fed up answering my questions, I asked them for a job. After two years they finally relented, and I started coming in a few days a week and learning how to repair guitars on the job. It is without a doubt the best job I’ve ever had, and I look forward to seeing everyone each week.

Michael Clayton, 48, is a nurse by trade who started working on his own guitars about seven years ago after a bad repair experience at a different store. He watched videos from famous luthiers and followed all of Jason Burns’ repairs on Instagram.

“I happened to meet Jason about six years ago because, as fate would have it, our kids ended up on the same soccer team,” he says. “We became friends, and he invited me to the shop on my days off. I came down to watch him work and to learn from him, and that’s when I met Bob.”

He began working there “little by little,” he says, until he ended up “sort of” in an apprenticeship. “I’ve worked there for six years now and in that time, Bob and Jason have become my dearest friends.”

He describes Tedrow as “a bit of a force of nature,” adding that he’s also kind, intelligent and plays almost everything with strings. “Whenever someone comes in, he immediately greets them and everyone, I mean everyone, gets what we call the ‘Bob Show,’” Clayton says. “He’s one of the most engaging and charismatic people I’ve met. I have learned a great deal about luthiery and also life while spending time with the both of them (Bob and Jason). In short, they broke the mold.”

Divine Providence rings in Cropwell

A man, a parish, heavenly intervention, a community and a bell

Story Paul South
Photos by Sam Marston
and Graham Hadley

If Zuzu Bailey’s line in the 1946 holiday film classic, It’s A Wonderful Life is true – that “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings,” a small Catholic Church in Cropwell helps get a heavenly squadron cleared for takeoff every day.

Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church’s 750-pound bell has become not only part of a parish, but of a community. It’s much more than heavy metal.

It’s a ringing result of one man’s idea, the support of his priest and parish and a heaping helping of Divine Providence.

Just ask Sam Marston.

It may have been 2017 when Marston, a 76-year-old retired airport food service manager, got the idea for the bell at Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church.

Sam Marston and the bell

“The church didn’t have a bell tower, and I like bell towers,” he says.

After meeting with the then-priest at Our Lady of the Lake, Marston pledged seed money from his 401k for the bell and its tower.

But until 2019, thoughts of the bell fell silent. The former priest retired. And what’s more, Marston’s wife, Glenda, was battling cancer.

In 2019, buoyed by an enthusiastic response from new OLL priest, the Rev. Bill Lucas, Marston began to reach out to churches in Philadelphia and Washington, looking for bells from closed parishes.

None were found. Then, he discovered Bell Castings, a firm in Loudon, Tenn., and its owner, Todd Lower.

The church found its bell – a 1934 model crafted by the Missouri-based McShane Company – in a roomful of ringers. Founded in 1856, McShane is America’s oldest church bell company.

 The parish began a fundraising effort. While Marston’s pledge, funded by a government required minimum distribution was financial, both Marston and Lucas believe a higher power was at work.

“It had to be something Divine,” Marston says. “I couldn’t have come up with this. It was just something that came together. My whole thought process was to do something really, really special with this donation.

Marston, a cradle Catholic, had always loved bells. “It makes the whole church experience rich. Ringing before Mass and after Mass is like a celebration.”

Initially, donations for the belltower project came at a trickle. Rev. Lucas was not optimistic.

“We set a budget that was much higher than what we had before … So I said, we’ll leave it to the parish and if people give enough money, we’ll build the bell. But I didn’t think there was any way we would ever get to the level we needed to get to build the belltower.”

Marston confessed to doubt as well. “When the money stopped coming in, yes I did have doubts,” he says. “I tried to put it out of my mind, but I’d go out and see the bell sitting on the ground.”

Then, after one Sunday Mass, came a miracle. A donor wishing anonymity quietly handed Lucas a check for the majority of the needed funds.

“All of a sudden, there we were,” Lucas says. “We had the money for the project. Some people would say we got lucky,” he adds. “But I prefer to say Divine Providence.”

 He adds, “If you believe in Divine Providence, the whole story of our parish is that way … You can see it at work. But it’s certainly true of the bell.”

Marston agrees. “I really do think it was Divine intervention, because there were so many things that could have stopped it.”

Through friend Carl Wallace, Marston connected with structural engineer Bob Barnett, and Barnett foundBirmingham architect TimLucy who had done work for other Catholic parishes in the past. It seemed a match made in heaven.

Upper framework

The link to Barnett came in true Logan Martin style, when Marston and Wallace discussed the bell project over glasses of wine during a sunset pontoon cruise.

“(Sam) was willing to make the financial commitment, but he just didn’t know how to take the next step,” Wallace, author of the popular Facebook blog, “Lake Ramblings”, says. “I’m an engineer, and I just happened to know Bob Barnett who lives on the lake … and has his own structural engineering company. My simple part was, ‘Sam, let me get you in contact with Bob Barnett and get y’all hooked up.’ And Bob jumped all over it. He hooked up Sam with the architect. He had worked with (architect Lucy) on Catholic projects before.”

Ground broke on the bell tower on Nov. 9, 2021. But it was not an easy rise to the heavens. Soft St. Clair County soil required digging deeper and reinforcing the foundation with concrete. The bell, gleaming gold against a bright blue winter sky, was raised on Jan 13, 2022.

“You talk about exciting,” Marston recalls.

The electronically programmed bell rings every hour on the hour between 9 a.m. and 6 p.m., as well as five minutes before and at the end of each Mass and at funerals. The bell, Lucas says, has impacted the parish in a positive way.

“It’s made people more reverent,” Lucas says, “because when the bell rings, then you focus on the Mass. You focus on prayer and worship. Just like during the Consecration when we ring the bells, it’s a reminder to people where we are and what we’re doing.”

Lucas adds, “I didn’t really understand that when we were going through the project. But since we’ve had it, it’s opened my mind to the benefit of having the bell and helping people’s faith.

In a small way, Wallace says, the bell project has enriched life on the Cropwell end of the lake, especially as the tower was under construction.

“It’s almost the anticipation of it was greater than the final project,” Wallace says. “It’s not real loud. You can only hear it if you’re in the area. People see it when they drive by. It has become an instant landmark, maybe more so than the church itself.”

There’s something more at work here.

“The tradition of it, I think, is noteworthy,” Wallace says. “A church bell ringing is a great thing.”

The bell is a reminder of faith for people, regardless of their spiritual persuasion, Lucas says.

“Sometimes they’re Catholic, sometimes they’re just believers. They hear the bell, and it reminds them of that,” Lucas says. “This is a very religion-friendly area, and I think the bell speaks not just to Catholics, but to everyone of faith. It gives them a reminder that God is there and to take Him more seriously.”

While Marston was the driving human force, the community, priest and parish all played a part.

“It was a relay, and there were a lot of runners,” Wallace says. “It’s a  very interesting thing that just happened to happen to happen.”

While at this point, folks in Cropwell may be unsure about Hollywood’s Zuzu Bailey theory on angel wings and chiming bells, the feeling Sam Marston gets with every clang is crystal clear:

“Joy,” he says.

At the end of the day, the story of the Our Lady of the Lake belltower transcends one man’s dream, or money, a bell or bricks and mortar, Lucas says. “I think it does come back to that Divine Providence. If we’re open to that, and we’re willing to be molded by that, then God can use that for His glory and the building up of the Church and building up of faith, if we’re open to it.”

And in what some may see as another ring of Divine Providence, the bell chimed for the first time on Feb. 1, 2022.

It was Sam Marston’s 75th birthday.

Looking five years ahead

EDC develops road map to
St. Clair County’s future success

For some, talk of five-year plans conjures visions of a small gaggle of decision makers in a back room, setting a course for the masses.

But when St. Clair County’s Economic Development Council crafted the county’s growth blueprint for the next half decade, EDC Executive Director Don Smith made one thing plain: This is a countywide team effort. The council listened to hundreds of voices, folks from the incorporated areas to the farmlands, the lakefronts to the riverfront, corporations, small business owners and every entity in between.

“The EDC’s success is the result of the partnerships we create throughout the  county,” Smith says. “That’s really the secret to our success. It’s not what the EDC does. It’s what we’re able to do by working with others.”

Springville’s downtown drawing new businesses, visitors

The  recently approved new five-year plan was crafted after a series of public meetings across the county and input from hundreds of citizens.

“From that, we were able to create a vision of what we need to focus on achieving in the next five years,” Smith says, “The plan helps us to stay focused and to dedicate resources to make sure we achieve our goals.”

The wide-ranging  plan focuses on six key areas – infrastructure development, marketing and communication, recruitment and retention, community development, leadership and tourism.

 Some key areas include job creation, growing agritourism, including farm-to-table initiatives, and assisting municipalities in tapping into a deep pool of available state and federal grants through EDC’s Grant Resource Center.

“We had a lot of input from our smaller municipalities about the difficulty in knowing what grants are out there and being able to obtain those grants,” Smith says. “When you talk about a municipality that has a budget of $1 million, and they can get a grant for $200,000 for infrastructure or something else, that’s a major impact for them.”

The plan also envisions an industrial park to create more wealth along the county’s section of the burgeoning Interstate 59 corridor. Development along the vital transportation artery is a key component in the goal of creating 1,200 jobs over the life of the blueprint.

“That’s going to be a major priority for us over the next five years – to create more jobs along (I-59),” Smith says. “I think we identified 300 acres as being  part of our goals. Those goals are very important because over the last 15 years, since I’ve been head of the EDC, we’ve achieved all of our goals. We put all of our efforts  in making sure those things take place.”

The EDC is also looking at reinvigorating hands-on workforce development in partnership with local schools and Jefferson State Community College. The COVID-19 pandemic stalled those efforts.

Workforce Development

“There’s going to be a renewed focus on getting these programs – from K-12 to Jefferson State, to our employers – reconnected and utilized so that benefits our citizens, that benefits our employers, and it benefits our educators,” Smith says.

“We have a tremendous asset in Jefferson State Community College, and I don’t believe it’s being fully utilized by the citizens of St. Clair County,” Smith adds.

A heightened communications and marketing presence is also on the horizon. Competing counties, like Walker in northwest Alabama, have stepped up their advertising presence in the Birmingham TV market and beyond. Look for St. Clair County to do the same, along with a larger social media presence.

“One of the things we learned from the tourism initiative is there’s a desire to know what’s taking place in the community. So we’re going to take that focus and extend it on, not just tourism events, but all the successes and opportunities that a fast-growing community like St. Clair County offers to not only the citizens of the county, but outside of our county as well.”

Industrial and small business growth, combined with  an exodus from crowded big cities like Atlanta and Birmingham, fueled growth of nearly 10,000 residents between 2010 and 2022, according to the Census.

Here  is a brief snapshot of some other highlights of the five-year plan.

In infrastructure: As noted earlier, the development of the I-59 corridor is “absolutely a top priority,” Smith says. Obtaining more grants is near the top as well.

Marketing and communications: Greater use of the EDC website is expected to be a priority moving forward, Smith says.

Recruitment and retention has been the cornerstone of the EDC since 1999. A recent ribbon cutting for an industrial park in Moody illustrates that effort and will move the county toward such goals. “That’s going to continue, along with new manufacturing parks that are going to be identified and developed in the future,” Smith says.

In the area of leadership, the 17-year-old Leadership St. Clair County has been an incredible success, Smith says, connecting governmental and business leaders to develop relationships and to solve common problems and foster cooperation. The EDC hopes to conduct four Leadership  St. Clair County classes in the next five years.

Smith praised county commissioners for supporting the EDC tourism initiative, which began in 2019. The county’s lodging tax revenue has increased by 87 percent since the push for more visitors began, an estimated $200,000 in additional revenue.

“With that, comes the opportunity for more hotels and more opportunities for short term rentals. Ultimately, it means that more folks are coming to the festivals we’re having and visiting the resources we have here.”

The county also gets a tourism bounce from nearby marquee events at Talladega Superspeedway and Barber Motorsports Park.

Ecotourism is also blossoming, as fly fishing, sailing, kayaking and other water sports grow on the Coosa River and Neely Henry and Logan Martin lakes and their accompanying tributaries.

A byproduct of the EDC roadmap to the future?

EDC staff, from left: Executive Director Don Smith, Tourism Coordinator Blair Goodgame, Retail and Marketing Specialist Candice Hill and Director of Industry and Workforce Development Jason Roberts

“Ultimately, as this county continues to grow, having cooperation between the County Commission and the municipalities is going to be paramount,” Smith says. “Otherwise, we’ll become fragmented and dysfunctional like many counties are in Alabama.”

Endeavors like the five-year plan help to build county unity, something much needed in a fractious national political and social climate.

“The EDC has trained specialists in different fields,” Smith says. “But we never want to be in a bubble, because then we’re not going to be focused on what’s important to the citizens and elected officials of St. Clair County.”

He adds, “The only way that we can know what’s important to people is to get them to tell us – to listen, to document it and then to publicize it and to hold ourselves accountable for meeting those goals.”

And those goals are crucial to  St. Clair County’s success, keeping the main thing the main thing

“Just like any business, or any successful organization, when you write down your goals and you look at them every day, it helps keep you focused,” Smith says. “It helps best utilize your funds and ultimately, it helps bring you success in ways you don’t even dream of.”

Upcoming Ribbon Cuttings

Courtesy of EDC Director Don Smith

Note: These are projected dates and may changes

Ross Dress For Less: September 11

T.J. Maxx: August 6

Old Navy: August 16

ULTA: August 13

Five Below: July 28

Rack Room: September 29

Americas Best: September 1

PetSmart : September 5

Hobby Lobby: September 28