Guardians of the River

Coosa Riverkeeper and lake associations work to protect treasured waterways

Story by Paul South

Submitted photos

Even in the bleak midwinter, in a season of heavy rain and rising water, Gene Phifer, Linda Ruethemann and Frank Chitwood can almost set clocks by the nature’s magic on the Coosa River.

For Phifer, president of the Neely Henry Lake Association, the White American Pelican returns to entertain each winter, nesting near Phifer’s Neely Henry Lake home. For Ruethemann, a board member and past president of the Logan Martin Lake Protection Association, small black ducks – Ruethemann calls her feathered neighbors “diving ducks” – plunge for food under the Army khaki green water in the mornings, delighting a human audience.

And for Frank Chitwood, the Staff Riverkeeper and founder of the environmental watchdog group Coosa Riverkeeper, anytime is a good time on the river. But the special times are when the sun rises or sets, painting an ever-changing pallet, the moon is full and glowing, or in those seasons when colors, not crowds, clamor for attention.

The lake associations and the Coosa Riverkeeper are united in a singular mission – to protect the Coosa River system that runs through Alabama, downstream from the river’s headwaters at the confluence of the Etowah and Oostanaula rivers near Rome, Ga. The heart of the mission – to protect the quality and quantity of the waters of Coosa and its six lakes and by extension, the overall environment and economy.

Phifer calls Neely Henry, the Coosa and its sister lakes, “a treasure.” The three organizations are carrying on a love affair with the water.

“It’s really a treasure to have something like this, Phifer said. “There’s no other way to put it. We’re so fortunate. We have a river system that flows through the center of Gadsden and then on downstream. With a river like this with all the recreational and all the aesthetic and environmental benefits of it, goodness, it’s a treasure to have this. You don’t see this when you go across the United States.

 Native peoples called the Coosa home long before Hernando DeSoto became the first European to see the river in the 16th century. Neely Henry and Logan Martin were man-made bodies of water, the result of Alabama Power’s construction of hydroelectric dams in the 1960s. While these days, the river and lakes are in better health, there was a time in the not-so-distant past when Logan Martin, Neely Henry and its parent river were a dumping ground for all manner of human refuse from beer cans to busted refrigerators.

“The river system years ago was a biological eyesore as far as the way the water was being treated at that time. Something needed to be done,” Phifer said. “Things weren’t being done the way they should have been done by residents and the communities. Renew Our Rivers moved to the cities and counties, and a groundswell of law enforcement, schools, businesses and the media got involved, too. Etowah, St. Clair and Calhoun all got involved.”

The result was Renew Our Rivers. Started in 1998 on Neely Henry and quickly spreading to other Alabama waterways. On Neely Henry alone, some 500 tons to debris has been cleaned out of the river. On Logan Martin, the first year saw tons of debris pulled from the lake. The amount has decreased over the years, thanks to increased awareness throughout the water system.

Team work

Keeping the Coosa River system clean is only part of the story. For example, an all-volunteer army of trained Logan Martin residents take to the river monthly to test the waters. The effort springs from an Auburn University initiative called Alabama Water Watch.

 Since 1996, the water tests have been carried on come rain or sun, sleet or snow. Ruethemann is a trainer for the testing effort, which looks for warning signs in the water. “You don’t have to be a chemist to be a tester,” she says. “If you can follow a recipe, you can do this.”

Testers don’t worry much about weekly reports but search for trends in quality.

“When I’m out testing and someone sees me, they say, ‘Is the water good?’ And I can tell you what the numbers are today. But what you’re really looking for are the trends,” she says. “Is the water quality getting better? Is it getting worse? Do you suddenly see changes in certain areas of water quality that we need to take notice of and say, ‘Something’s changed here, what is that?’ Then you start going upstream to where the issue started.”

Like the associations, Coosa Riverkeeper is focused on water quantity and quality. Chitwood, founder of Coosa Riverkeeper and the retiring staff riverkeeper for the organization, patrols the waters in a quest to safeguard the river. He founded Coosa Riverkeeper in 2010 after volunteering for other Riverkeeper organizations around the country.

Like the Neely Henry and Logan Martin citizen groups, Coosa Riverkeeper is an advocate for the river system. While unlike the other organizations, Riverkeeper has a small paid staff, the goals of the groups are the same.

“What we do is patrol the river, educate the public and advocate on behalf of the river. Citizen-based, nonprofit,” Chitwood said. “We do a lot of the work that people expect the government does, but they don’t. In a sense, we are a watchdog organization. We do things like monitor water quality to make sure it’s safe to swim and to fish. We respond to citizen complaints. We go and speak to school groups or civic groups about the river and its importance. We monitor pollution sources and seek to reduce those sources of pollution.”

The public perception of the organization among river residents has changed since its early days.

“When we first started, not many people knew what the Coosa River was,” Chitwood said. “They thought of it as individual lakes. So, we talked to people on Logan Martin about the Coosa and they’d say, “We don’t know where that is, and we’d say, it’s right here.” That has changed a lot. They are more aware of the connectivity between systems and between the lakes and how we’re impacted by what people upstream of us are doing. That’s one big change.”

The other is changing the general perception that the Coosa is unsafe for swimming because it does have such a polluted history, especially on Logan Martin because of the PCB issue. What we did was start a program called Swim Guide, where we do water quality testing all over the river every week in the summer. We post that information free so people can see if it’s safe or not to swim that week in their location, instead of just speculation and hearsay. That has been really huge. A lot of people have been reassured about the safety of swimming in the river. But a lot more people are assured about the safety of the water.”

And Coosa Riverkeeper isn’t shy about using the legal system to protect the waterway.

While the lake associations closely monitor water issues and advocate and educate on behalf of the river system to schools, civic groups and government agencies, Coosa Riverkeeper will put its legal muscle behind its efforts.

“That’s why I’m really proud of our group because we’re standing up and doing something about it. And we’re making progress. It just takes people to stand up against industry and the government that are insanely powerful in Alabama and say that’s not really how we want things to happen in Alabama,” he noted.

“There are people out there that they know what they’re doing is not right. And they know that what they’re doing has an impact. But if they don’t get fined for it and they’re not going to spend however much money it is to do the right thing, there’s no consequence. It takes more than one approach to really address all these issues. That’s what sets our group apart. We’re willing to go toe-to-toe with industry, and we’re willing to call in the lawyers and file a lawsuit. There aren’t a lot of groups willing to do that. I think that we have to be willing to do that. If we don’t, we’re never going to change the status quo.”

Perhaps the dominant issue – one that would impact the three-legged stool of the lake associations’ mission to protect water quality, quantity and property values – are the so-called “Water Wars” among Alabama. Georgia and Florida.

In an effort to get more water for a thirsty, growing Metropolitan Atlanta area, Georgia wants to dam the waters that flow into the Coosa, which is downriver from the confluence of the Etowah and Oostanaula. Its impact reaches far beyond the Coosa, to the Tallapoosa and the Alabama Rivers. The Alabama is a navigable waterway, critical for barge traffic to the Port of Mobile.

Choking the flow of water to the Coosa, however, would damage a fragile ecosystem and parch the local economy. If you want an idea of how brittle the Coosa and its lakes are, consider indigenous beavers in the wake of February flooding. While it’s the opposite effect compared to lower water levels, the lesson here is environmental impact.

“Any change in the water level is going to affect the environment,” Ruethemann says. “While it’s the opposite of that, in the flood, beavers were wandering in people’s yards, and they were scared, not sure where to go.”

All of the Coosa advocacy groups are closely monitoring the mountain of litigation related to the water wars, Phifer said.

“We can’t continue to lose a lot of water without damaging us downstream in dry season. When nutrient levels in the water get too high, you have the potential for the nutrients to cause rapid algae growth and when the algae die, it sucks oxygen from the river system, damaging quality of life for the river. When you have dissolved oxygen, it becomes a pollution problem.”

In the years ahead, if the waters of the Cahaba – from which Birmingham derives much of its water – begins to run dry – there is concern that a parched Magic City might turn to the Coosa for water, putting the Coosa in the crossfire of two fronts in the water wars.

“That’s not just a battle for Alabama, Florida and Georgia, but there’s going to be a battle between Birmingham and the Coosa,” Chitwood says. “It’s only going to be so long before Birmingham comes for the Coosa. They’ve talked about it before.”

“When I train people in these (water testing) classes, I tell them, water in not a limitless quality,” Ruethemann says. “You can’t make new water. People say, ‘Why don’t you go to the Birmingham Water Works and get more water? Well, where do you think they get that water?”

One of her water testing students took a biblical view, she says. “Yup, that’s the same water that floated Noah’s boat.”

Ruethemann adds, “As it gets more limited and as we have more people, and we start growing more in urban areas like Atlanta and in the outskirts of Birmingham, people are going to be fighting for that limited amount of water.”

Other development-related issues, like sediment runoff from construction sites, sewerage and stormwater runoff concern the Coosa River organizations of Weiss, Neely Henry, Logan Martin, Lay, Jordan and Mitchell that make up what Ruethemann calls, “The Coalition.”

But another point of advocacy for Coosa Riverkeeper and the Neely Henry and Logan Martin groups is the development of a statewide comprehensive water management plan. Currently, Alabama is the only state in the Southeast without a water management blueprint.

“In my opinion, (if) we get to a courtroom, it’s hard for us to say (water) is of utmost importance when we don’t have a plan together. I think that plays against us tremendously.”

What happens to the Coosa if Alabama loses the water fight?

“We always think the worst. I think human nature is (to think) that everything will fall apart. I don’t know. There are many places on this lake that if the water stayed at 460 (feet), that a lot of people would not have waterfront property at all. You’d still see the diving ducks and the pelicans, but in these narrow sloughs, a lot of people would not have waterfront at all.”

Water quality and quantity should be on the minds of folks along the Coosa and across Alabama, as neighboring Georgia builds more reservoirs at the headwaters of the river.

“I would bet you if you talk to 90 percent of the people in this state, they don’t even think about water, Ruethemann says. “They turn on the faucet, and it’s there. They go to the beach or lake or river of their choice, and it’s there. We have a lot of water in Alabama – today.”

Should they think about it?

“Oh yeah,” she says. “At some point in time, it’s going to become an issue.”

 Meanwhile the groups collaborate, educate and advocate for the river system, pushing for clean, ample water, effective policies and responsible development. The reason is simple. “Anyone who spends time on our waterways in Alabama is going to appreciate them,” Chitwood says. “You’re not going to go kayaking on Big Canoe Creek and say, ‘Who really cares about that creek? ‘You’re going to say ‘Wow, that’s something worth protecting.”

LakeFest

Back bigger and better than ever

Story by Leigh Pritchett

Submitted Photos

Logan Martin LakeFest & Boat Show returns in May with more entertainment, more vendors, more boats, impressive giveaways and even an extra day to enjoy it all.

The weekend of events May 17-19 will mark the ninth year for LakeFest, an event that celebrates lake life.

This year, a pontoon boat and an all-terrain vehicle are among the many giveaways.

The free, family-friendly LakeFest – to be held at Lakeside Park at the Pell City Civic Center complex – is the largest in-water boat show in the Southeast, according to event coordinators Eric Housh and Justin Hogeland.

To date, the annual fundraiser has generated $250,000 that has been given to about 40 different charities, said Hogeland, a board member of LakeFest’s parent, Logan Martin Charity Foundation.

This year, LakeFest will again have a three-day format after having a two-day schedule for a few years. “We’re adding back a Sunday this year,” said Housh, who is also a foundation board member.

The hours of LakeFest are noon to 9 p.m. Friday, 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Saturday, and noon to 5 p.m. Sunday.

During LakeFest, five boat dealers will display a total of 15 brands of vessels.

“Some of those boats will be in the water and people (who qualify) will be able to test drive, which is unique,” Housh said.

The personal watercraft vendor Speed Zone will have Sea Doos, Yamaha Wave Runners and Kawasaki jet skis that those who qualify can take for a spin.

“That will be a lot of fun,” Housh said.

In addition, Riders Harley-Davidson will show off motorcycles, and enthusiasts will get to experience the power, speed and thrill through a simulator.

On-site financing to purchase a land or water vessel will be offered by America’s First Federal Credit Union, LakeFest’s presenting sponsor.

In the beginning…

Jerry Woods of Woods Surfside Marina, Fred Casey of Tradesman Co., and Lee Holmes of Sylacauga Marine & ATV brought the first LakeFest to life, said Mark Hildebrant, Woods’ son-in-law.

“Jerry was one of the main forces behind the event,” said Housh. “… He was the brain of the original idea.”

The goal was to raise money for charitable causes, particularly Logan Martin Lake Protection Association (LMLPA), said Housh and Hogeland.

“Jerry’s dream was to give back to the community and have an event that showcased the lake and lake life,” said Hildebrant, a foundation board member and current owner of Woods Surfside Marina.

The event itself would be free, but sponsorship from boat manufacturers and local businesses would generate the funds that would go toward LMLPA projects and other community endeavors.

The inaugural LakeFest was held at a shoreline subdivision. The event brought together three boat dealers, about 20 vendors and a crowd estimated at 2,000. Three acts provided entertainment, with no stage and only a small public address system. About $2,000 was raised for LMLPA, funds that went toward constructing the wetlands boardwalk at Lakeside Park, Hogeland said.

The early years of LakeFest were a struggle because it was a new event, and being outdoors, it was at the mercy of the weather. In fact, rain canceled it one year.

But Woods and the foundation board members believed in LakeFest and its mission.

More boat manufacturers and local businesses gave their sponsorship, and the event expanded significantly.

When LakeFest relocated to Lakeside Park, the celebration really blossomed, greatly increasing the number of acts, vendors, dealers, attendees and the amount of money raised for charities.

The upcoming LakeFest will feature more than a dozen musical acts, performing on a 24-foot stage with professional lighting and sound. On Saturday, comedian Darren Knight – also known as “Southern Momma” – will make a special appearance.

In addition to the motorcycle and boat dealers, auto dealers will be on site. The inflatables and water slides in Kid Zone will keep the younger set entertained on Friday and Saturday. As many as 50 vendors will sell all sorts of items – from jewelry, art and furniture to food, food and more food.

One vendor even comes from Florida to sell crab cakes.

“The food is always a highlight,” Housh said.

This year’s LakeFest is on target to be the largest in the celebration’s history.

“We have exceeded our growth this year,” Hogeland said. “We actually have a waiting list of boat vendors.”

Housh added that the space for other vendors is at capacity as well. “We have to turn vendors away every year. We have to turn sponsors away every year.”

Even a place to dock a boat has become a premium, Housh said. His advice to those planning to go to LakeFest by water is to arrive early to secure a spot.

The appeal of LakeFest draws people from Birmingham, Montgomery, Anniston, Oxford, Huntsville and event Atlanta, Ga., Hogeland said.

“I like to see people coming here from other places because this is an idyllic getaway,” Housh said.

He noted that Pell City is, first of all, fortunate to have a large and attractive Lakeside Park that can accommodate an event such as LakeFest. In addition to that, it is unique to have an in-water boat show where people may test-drive models, talk to experts, and get on-site financing.

“Having LakeFest at Lakeside Park has been a wonderful experience,” said Brian Muenger, city manager for the City of Pell City. “It is a great community-building event, as well as a means of promoting the city and the lake in general. Last year was the biggest event yet. …”

Housh estimates the 2018 LakeFest attendance at 15,000.

“Any time you can bring that many people to the area, it’s a great thing,” Muenger said. “The lake is our biggest draw in terms of new residents, and LakeFest provides a huge amount of exposure for the city.”

LakeFest has provided about $50,000 for charities each of the last three years and while many charitable causes have benefited from LakeFest funds, Hogeland said Lakeside Park and the City of Pell City are two of the main recipients.

“The Logan Martin Charity Foundation has … been a generous supporter of (the) Fire and Police Departments, which we are thankful for,” Muenger said. “They have also partnered with the city to expand the docks at the park, which was a $50,000 project. We are working towards further improvements in the years to come, and with the continual growth of the event, I know its impact on the community will continue to expand.”

Tonja Ramey, LMLPA president, said LakeFest gives exposure to and promotes LMLPA’s work of keeping the lake clean and teaching about the lake’s impact upon humans, ecology and economy.

“The primary purpose of LMLPA is to educate the public on issues and activities that impact the use and vitality of Logan Martin Lake,” Ramey said. “… (At LakeFest,) we are able to set up a booth, mingle with the vendors and share information with the visitors about the importance of making improvements for the safety of swimmers and boaters, as well as protecting the quality of our lake. And it also gives us the opportunity to share information and possibly recruit anyone that may be interested in learning to be a water monitor. Events like LakeFest are also a great opportunity to sign up new members to LMLPA.”

A legacy remembered

Year after year, Woods’ influence continued to be a positive force in LakeFest.

Then, just four days before the 2017 LakeFest, Woods died, Hildebrant said.

Hogeland and Housh said it was very difficult to continue with LakeFest that year, but the group did so for Woods’ sake.

The activities this year will begin with a time of remembering Woods’ vision and commitment.

On Friday evening will be another time of remembrance, as LakeFest honors some residents of Col. Robert L. Howard Veterans Home in Pell City. The veterans will be transported in a procession to LakeFest, where they will be treated in the VIP tent (sponsored by State Farm agents Bart Perry and Brandon Tate) to dinner, followed by a fireworks spectacular (sponsored by Bennington, a maker of pontoon boats).

Speaking of pontoons, an 18-foot Avalon with a 50-horsepower Honda motor and an estimated value of $23,000 will be given away Saturday evening. So will an $8,500 Tracker ATV.

“I think that’s going to be pretty popular,” Housh said of those two giveaways at 8:30 p.m. Saturday.

“Everyone who attends LakeFest gets a ticket free,” Housh said. The ticket allows each person to register at the LakeFest tent for the hourly giveaways.

Coordinating LakeFest is an undertaking that keeps Housh and Hogeland rather busy for many months. Nonetheless, “this is my favorite time of year,” Housh said, noting that it is gratifying to see the way the community shows support by attending LakeFest.

“One of the perks is the check presentations to charities,” Hogeland added. Giving those, he said, is reward for all the work.

Check out Logan Martin LakeFest & Boat Show on Facebook. To get sponsor and vendor information and applications, directions to the park, or a schedule of events, visit loganmartinLakeFest.com. In addition to Housh, Hogeland and Hildebrant, Logan Martin Charity Foundation’s other board members are Fred Casey and Lee Holmes. Judy Carr is the financial officer. The foundation is a 501(c)3 organization.

You gotta beat the fish

Bain, Colley set to defend the Alabama Bass Trail Series title

Story by Paul South

Submitted photos

When it comes to fishing, Adam Bain and Kris Colley hold to a simple truth, the same flame that burned bright in classic literature and on classic TV.

Whether it’s Melville’s Ishmael, or Mayberry’s Andy and Opie Taylor, it’s not about victory over another angler. It’s man vs. fish.

“It’s kind of like a little puzzle. You have to figure out what the fish are doing and the time of the year, the depth they’re in and what they’re biting,” Bain says. “It’s just you and the fish. It’s not necessarily you against everybody else, it’s you against the fish. There’s as much competition there, as there is to figuring out if you can beat everybody else. You gotta beat the fish.”

Bain from Pell City and Colley of Ashville beat the fish and everybody else in 2018, capturing the Alabama Bass Trail Championship in their home county on Neely Henry Lake.

They’ve won twice on the ABT circuit over the years, once at Pickwick Lake on the Tennessee River, and the ABT title on Neely Henry last year. The pair finished second in 2017, narrowly missing the ABT title on Logan Martin, their day’s catch losing by slightly more than two pounds.

Sanctioned by the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society, the Alabama Bass Trail Tournament Series features two divisions. Each division –North and South – includes five tournaments on five different lakes. As many as 225 two-man boats can compete in each tournament.

Bain, a Realtor and Colley, who works in the railway industry, have made waves on the ABT circuit with their winning ways that combine old-school fishing techniques with high technology in the ever-evolving world of competitive angling.

While the ABT is considered an amateur circuit, each tournament champion wins a $10,000 grand prize, with $47,000 in prizes going to the top 40 teams. In recognition of Alabama’s Bicentennial in 2019, the 200th-place finisher will earn a $200 bonus. The total prize money for the 2019 ABT Series circuit is $568,000.

But for Colley and Bain, it’s not about the money. While they’ve knocked around the idea of moving to a higher level of competitive fishing, family comes first.

“There’s so much money at the local level now that you can stay around the house and win. But we don’t necessarily do it for the money, but for the competition. The money is an added bonus. The more money, the more competition.”

Colley agrees. The rush of the tug on a line is enough.

“We’re both competitive in that we always want to win. It’s not that we fish against each other, but we joke around and make fun of it. You know, fishing is fun. Between the both of us, we never take it to the point where it’s so serious that we take the fun out of it. Honestly, if it ever got to that point, I’d probably quit.”

That fun and love of fishing has helped hook a strong friendship. The two have fished together for about a decade. And their fishing style, forged since childhood on the stained Army-khaki waters of Weiss Lake, Logan Martin and Neely Henry complements each other.

“He’s probably a little more patient than I am. I like to throw stuff and wind it in, Bain says of his angling teammate. “I use a spinner bait or a crank bait. He will take a jig or a piece of plastic and flip it. He thinks that if I’m up there and catching fish that are active, he can fish maybe a different part of the water column.”

While most fishermen would probably never admit it, especially in the age of high-technology depth finders and trolling motors linked to smartphones and sonar-laced lures, luck takes a hand.

But when Colley is on his game, Bain has a simple strategy.

“When he’s on and when he’s getting bites and catching fish, I just stay out of his way. He’s kind of the same way with me. It may be his day a little more often than it is mine. He really does catch a lot of fish.”

Asked his own strengths on the team, Bain quips: “I run the dip net really well.”

While Colley can flip plastic lures into the tall grasses near the shoreline or under docks, Bain is the deep-water specialist, hooking big catches on spinner and crank baits. In the summertime, he generally does well because he catches them deep,” Colley says.

He adds, “We both kind of fish fast, but we do it different ways. When you have that and have two ways of looking at it, if one way’s not working, we’re really quick to switch to another. At the end of the day, you might fish the same, but it’s somewhat different.”

Like most kids who grow up near the lake, fishing has always been a simple pursuit. Joy can be had with a cane pole, a box of worms or a cage of crickets. But as with the rest of the world, technology snagged competitive fishing in its net.

The days of paper topographic maps of bodies of water are no more. Water temperature, depth, barometric pressure, the phases of the moon, all figure into fishing. And the new depth finders make learning an unfamiliar lake easier,

“They call it video game fishing,” Bain says. “As you’re trolling around, and you see a fish directly below you on your depth finder, you can drop a little worm straight down and watch the fish bite on the monitor. There are people who fish like that a lot. We’ve never gotten into that. Because we’re from and fish predominately on the Coosa River, which is shallow, the water stays kind of stained and the fish, most of the year live shallower than in other river systems. So, to fish competitively, you don’t necessarily have to fish out deep the majority of the year. Obviously, there are times you have to go out (deep) to win, even on Logan Martin and Neely Henry, but not as often (on those lakes) as some of the others.”

Colley is excited by the new technology.

“I think it’s great. It’s changed fishing. It’s sort of created a wide range of how to catch fish. You see people who fish on the bank and still win, and then you see people who grew up in the age of technology, and they know how to use it to their advantage, and they’re able to catch them offshore.

It’s changed the way that everybody fishes because at some point in time – we’re not the best in electronics – you’ve got to be able to read them to be competitive. Some of the lengths we go to, you have to know how to read them, or you’re going to get beat.”

Fishing, it seems, is booming. Bain, who learned angling from his father and grandfather, remembers fishing junior tournaments with only three competitive boats. Now fishing flourishes at the prep, amateur, collegiate and pro level. More than 200 boats compete on the ABT circuit, and some of the pros show up at those events. And amateurs compete in some of the professional “open” tourneys.

Bain believes the internet, technology advertising, money and media coverage have boosted the popularity of a sport that once seemed to be gasping for air on the rocks. And as a result, the competition is tough

“The fishermen have gotten good. Your average fisherman is a lot better now than he used to be. Whether that’s the depth finders or the material that’s he’s able to get to and read about and see the new techniques and all this stuff, the average fisherman has gotten much better than he was 20 years ago. It’s got to be the technology that’s doing that.”

Defending champs

Technology aside, Colley and Bain are philosophical as they begin the defense of their 2018 Alabama Bass Trail Series. Colley doesn’t see a bullseye on their backs as the new season began.

“It’s not. We look forward to being able to defend. We’re not going to change anything up. If we go out and do the best we can and if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”

He adds, “We both have our strengths as far as what we like to do and how we do it. If it’s a bait or a certain thing he likes to do, he runs the boat. It just depends on crank or jerk bait like Adam does, or flipping a bait, that’s more my kind of deal. We try to keep each other up. You’re going to lose a big fish here and there, and when we do, we just try to make fun of it. We don’t really get down, we just make fun of and nag each other the rest of the day.”

Asked if the fishing friends are like an old married couple, Colley chuckles.

“Pretty much,” he says.

The pair calls the ABT championship their biggest thrill and their biggest victory in fishing. But even in these days of tournaments and tough competition, where anglers on the ABT try to land five fat keepers, the story always circles back to childhood and the thrill of that first big fish, fun and friendship

“We don’t do a whole lot different than anybody else,” Bain says. “Kris is an outstanding fisherman. I’m probably very lucky to be fishing with him. We’ve taken our lumps over the years, but we’ve put a lot of time in and worked really hard at it. We’ve paid our dues.

“Now that we do have families we aren’t able to fish all the time during the week, like we did growing up. But what success we have now, I can attribute to those days as a kid, fishing for hours, not knowing what you were doing, but just learning. Eventually, years down the road, that stuff does pay off.”

Gee’s Bend in St. Clair

Quilts and quilters have compelling stories to tell

Story by Joe Whitten
Photos by Susan Wall
Submitted Photos

Gee’s Bend quilts, vibrant and spontaneous, have been exhibited and written about around the world, but for Claudia Pettway Charley, born in Gee’s Bend and now living in Pell City, quilts have been an everyday fact of life.

She grew up nurtured by the women whose quilts would one day be showcased in museums across the globe. It was a legacy, an art learned from her mother, Tinnie Pettway; her grandmother, Malissia Pettway; her aunt, Minnie Pettway; and other quilters of the close-knit community.

Sewn by descendants of slaves from a plantation on the Alabama River, these quilts have made Gee’s Bend and the quilters internationally famous.

From The Times of London — “The women of Gee’s Bend … have shattered artistic boundaries. Their bold, vibrant designs are as radically different from orthodox quilt patterns as Picasso was from anyone who preceded him.”

From The New York Times —  “What makes this (Gee’s Bend) tradition so compelling is that unlike most quilts in the European-American tradition, which favor uniformity, harmony and precision, Gee’s Bend quilts include wild, improvisatory elements: broken patterns, high color contrasts, dissonance, asymmetry and syncopation. …”

Quilting originated in the Orient as padded garments, then made its way to Europe by way of returning 13th century crusaders, and eventually evolved into bedding.

Quilts came to the New World with the first settlers and were necessary in the home well into the 20th century.

In the second half of the 20th century, there burst upon both the quilting world and the art world the phenomena of Gee’s Bend quilts. In 2018 the Bend’s quilts again came to prominence through the official portrait of former First Lady Michelle Obama painted by Amy Sherald of Baltimore. Mrs. Obama’s portrait gown features quilt blocks associated with Gee’s Bend quilts. In 2018, Sherald visited Gee’s Bend quilters and had a grand time in Tinnie Pettway’s home hearing stories from the past told by Tinnie and her sister Minnie.

Gee’s Bend quilter and entrepreneur, Claudia Pettway Charley, is partner in the family-owned business and currently owns the registered trademark for that business, That’s Sew Gee’s Bend. In a recent interview at the Pell City Library, among an array of her quilts as well as her mother’s, she talked about her process of making a quilt. “Everything comes from the head and the heart — what the feeling is at that moment, that time when you put a piece together. No patterns, nothing like that.”

The fascination and beauty of a Gee’s Bend quilt is its spontaneity. Each quilt is a serendipity of seemingly haphazard colors and shapes that harmonize into a thing of beauty which sings to the observer’s soul.

A New York Times reporter wrote that the earliest Bend quilts “…came into being alongside gospel, blues, ragtime and jazz,” an era when strict rules of music composition were tossed aside. Think of trumpeter Louie Armstrong or pianist Thelonious Monk departing from the written notes and improvising his mood of the moment into improvisations.

Now look at a Gee’s Bend quilt and realize the placement of color, fabric texture and shape speak a language of mood or emotion, unhampered by strict adherence to geometrical pattern and form. The green-bordered Double Glory quilt by Tinnie Pettway (Claudia’s mother) is as lively as New Orleans jazz vibrating the night.

Claudia acknowledged her quilts to be both improvisational and abstract — each quilt “is true to itself,” she said.

When asked her thoughts when beginning a new quilt, Claudia replied: “It could be your mood at that particular time; the weather; how you are feeling. If you’re feeling excited and happy, you may choose a lot of bright (colors) for the piece — I’m speaking of myself now. You just kind of know the direction you want the piece to go. It’s not just one thing; it could be a multitude of things that would make you choose certain fabrics and colors.”

Tinnie Pettway’s thoughts on starting a quilt correspond with her daughter’s. “Fabric is not the problem,” she said. “My problem is the design — and I have no special design (in mind) when I’m making a quilt. I think of how I want it, and sometimes that don’t work out, and I just let that go. I take a portion of the quilt, and I lay it out on the floor, and I look at it. I turn it around, and whatever looks the best to me when I place it together, then that’s the way I sew it.” Her yellow-bordered Multi Block Crossroads quilt is a striking example of how successfully she works this technique.

The Bend quilters do have “traditional patterns,” Tinnie said; “…things like Grandma’s Dream, Nine Patch, String, or the one we call House Top — those are regular quilts that everybody makes. But I have no particular pattern. I just sew pieces together. If they look good, I sew the pieces together.

“And everybody who sees one (of our quilts) knows that that’s a Gee’s Bend quilt. It’s put together just as our mind tells us — most time with no set form and no set pattern. That’s how we do it.”

How did they get here from there?

To understand Gee’s Bend quilts, you need to answer the question, “How did Gee’s Bend quilts originate?” To answer that, you must know some of the history of this particular bend in the Alabama River. And to appreciate the abstract beauty of the quilts, you must understand the pervasive tension between despair and hope in their lives.

Joseph Gee, from North Carolina, settled in the Bend around 1816 and established a plantation in the rich, fertile river-bottom land. According to Harvey H. Jackson II in his Rivers of History: Life on the Coosa, Tallapoosa, Cahaba, and Alabama, Joseph died in 1824 and left the plantation and 47 slaves to his nephews still living in the east. One nephew, Charles Gee, moved to Alabama and ran the plantation until the 1840s. At that time, to settle a debt, Charles and his brother deeded everything to Mark H. Pettway. In 1846, Pettway and family with more than a hundred slaves made the journey through the Carolinas and Georgia and into what by then was called Gee’s Bend, Alabama.

Pettway brought change. Jackson writes, “… His slaves cleared more land, planted more cotton and built their master a ‘big house,’ which he named Sandy Hill. Gee’s Bend became, according to one student of the region (Nancy Callahan), ‘a dukedom in the vast Southern cotton empire,’ and there Pettway lived in splendid isolation. Deep in the heart of a bulb-shaped peninsula, almost entirely surrounded by the river, Mark Pettway was free to do whatever he wished, and he did.”

When emancipation freed the slaves, they all took the Pettway surname whether blood-related or not, and all stayed on the Pettway plantation, working as sharecroppers and tenant farmers. In 1895, Pettway sold the land to Adrian Sebastian Van De Graff, a Tuscaloosa attorney who ran the farm as an absentee landowner.

By the 1920s, Gee’s Bend was an isolated African-American community. Farmers sold their cotton to a merchant in Camden. The price of cotton dropped in the late 1920s, and without telling the farmers, the merchant held the cotton hoping the price would go up in a few years. All the while, he kept account of what they bought, to be paid for when the cotton sold.

The price of cotton did not go up before he died. His heirs saw only what the farmers owed — and the farmers’ held cotton had “disappeared.”

In 1932, the merchant’s heirs sent men to Gee’s Bend to collect. And collect they did, taking everything — household goods, cows, mules, pigs, seed for next-year’s planting. The pillaging left the people destitute.

Jackson quotes a Christian Century article by Rev. Renwick C. Kennedy, “In October and November, 68 families, 368 people, were ‘broken up’ or ‘closed out’ — Alabama phrases that described both a physical condition and a psychological state.”

The stricken people faced the winter with the real prospect of starvation. Jackson writes that they survived through the help of both the Red Cross and a compassionate Wilcox County plantation owner who provided assistance with cornmeal and food.

From this poverty came the quilters thrift of salvaging still usable portions of worn-out overalls and clothing to make cover to pile on beds for warmth in an unheated, cardboard-thin house. These quilts are documented in Gee’s Bend: The Women and their Quilts and The Quilts of Gee’s Bend.

Tinnie Pettway commented about this use of worn-out clothing, saying, “…In those old quilts, to have a different color…they would rip seams (of overalls), and where the seams had been folded, (it was) still holding its color. They’d sew it together.” This gave them shades of blue in the pieces.

She also told of the competition between the quilters. “They wanted to see which one could make the best quilt — even out of those ragged pieces they had. In spite of the lack of material, they used whatever they could find.” Tinnie and her sister, Minnie, made the quilt, Robust, of worn overall denim scraps. Note the splash of red in the lower right — a counterpoint of hope in a field of lonesome blue.

Claudia was asked, “Do you think any of the quilts reflected the distress of what the people were going through?”

She responded thoughtfully, “It’s possible. (When) you look at some of the old quilts and what they used for material — croaker sacks … overalls. … I think it was according to the attitude of the time, … using what they had available. They said to themselves, ‘We’re gonna survive regardless of what anyone says or what anyone does.’

“You know, growing up in the country like that, it makes you a survivor. Gee’s Bend was like a forgotten community — totally. So, we depended on each other. We depended on the farming, eating off the land, doing anything we could do at that time for survival. And it makes today seem simple.”

In Claudia’s quilt, Crimson Blues, she has created a sense of tension in the shapes and placement of red, blue and black pieces. The themes of despair and hope seem to throb through Gee’s Bend quilters’ blood and come to life in their quilts.

Drive for more than quilt-making

Not only was there a determination to survive physically, but there was also the struggle for basic citizen’s rights, such as the right to vote.

Tinnie Pettway remembers that well. “I went over to register to vote, and they put me in a little room in the courthouse. It just had one door. Finally, it got dark, and I looked up, and there was these three men standing right in the door looking at me. I just looked at them, and they backed out. I don’t know why they was looking at me, trying to frighten me or not. I don’t know. But they backed out, and finally I was able to register to vote. They sent me my card saying that I qualified.”

Claudia’s aunt, Minnie Pettway, recalled the same intimidation and that the officials threw away her first registration forms. “Threw them in the garbage!” But she kept trying. “A lot of people wouldn’t go. I guess they were somewhat afraid, but my daddy wasn’t afraid of nothing, so I just went along with him.” Finally, as a result of a court hearing in Selma, Minnie was a registered voter. “When we were declared registered voters, whenever there was an election, we went to the polls and voted.”

Tinnie, Minnie, and others from Gee’s Bend marched in Camden, the county seat for the right to vote. “Most of the people who was marching was not the educated people … many of them were afraid to march. They were afraid of their jobs — that they would lose their jobs,” Minnie remembered. “My daddy (Eddie Pettway Sr.), used to get truckloads of people and take them to Camden to register to vote, and they would put them all in jail. Then a day or two later, my daddy would go back with his truck and try to bond them out of jail. … Daddy went to get them, but they would go back a day or two later protesting again.”

Eddie Pettway Sr., who was Claudia’s grandfather, marched at Edmund Pettus Bridge with others from Gee’s Bend. “They ran over them with horses,” Minnie recalled, “and would spray them with tear gas. My daddy would drag the ladies out of the area where the tear gas was strong.”

The determination to keep on until rights were won seems to be sewn in Tinnie’s Gee’s Bend Geometric Trails quilt of multi-colored panels bordered by panels of red and gray — no curves in these trails, they lead straight ahead to the goal.

When asked if the young folk today realized the struggles of their grandparents, she replied, “They don’t, really. My grandkids, Claudia’s kids, they enjoy listening to the stories, but they just can’t imagine going through that.”

Not only could the younger generation not comprehend what the struggle had been, but neither could the crowds at the museums when Gee’s Bend quilters appeared at exhibits.

The women traveled from museum to museum for each exhibit of their “works of art” in galleries across the USA. “We would talk,” Tinnie remembered, “and tell the people how it was coming up in Gee’s Bend and the struggle we had here. … What we were telling (about our lives) was unimaginable (to them).

“When our bus would come in (to a museum), they’d be standing out like the president was coming. And they would just hug us, and some of ‘em were crying, and I thought, ‘My God, these are just quilts!’ … We had lived with these quilts a lifetime. They wasn’t art to us as (they were) to the people we were taking them to.

“It was almost unbelievable,” she remembered. “That’s when I had my first flight — to a museum in California. That’s the first time I got on a plane, and I’m telling you, that was something. I was kind of afraid when I got on there, but once that plane took off, I thought, ‘Well, I might as well settle down, cause I’m up here now, and they’re not gonna take me back.’”

She chuckled at the memory and continued. “It was joyous time. I had my first time to eat goat cheese on one of those trips. … A lot of those quilters didn’t like that goat cheese, but I liked that goat cheese, and I’d say, well give me your goat cheese!”

Claudia’s wish is that upcoming generations will find hope and success because of  the struggles of the past and that they will continue the quilting heritage of Gee’s Bend. “We don’t want it to become a dying art. We want to continue to keep the quilting in the forefront of not just artists but quilters and everyday people. We (quilters) have to find like-minded people to know where that place is, and from there it grows.”

She is hopeful that soon, innovative and spontaneous quilting will take root in Pell City and St. Clair County.

Remembrance of past, hope for future

In their interviews, both Claudia and her Mom talked about Gee’s Bend’s isolation, poverty, struggle for survival, and the progress that had been made by the community’s determination and resourcefulness.

“Things are much better now,” Tinnie said. “Education is much better. We’ve got some very good kids that have grown up here — doctors, lawyers, nurses — that came from Gee’s Bend in spite of its beginnings.”

The post-slavery trials and tribulations of our African-American citizens in Wilcox County’s Gee’s Bend, with its injustice and inhumanity, echo in all of Alabama’s counties. A little delving into St. Clair County’s 19th Century estate records expose that inhumanity. However, the subtlety of injustice lies in the fact that it may fall upon anyone, regardless of race, color or belief.

But like those brilliant colors splashing through Gee’s Bend quilts, hope brightens the future. And this must be a determined hope for all.

Tinnie expressed it this way in a poem:

I’m not giving up in this life
Although there may be some strife
It may be sometime I have to wait
I know it’s never too late.

From this life I won’t retire
To be productive is a lifelong desire
I’ll go on, no, I won’t die
A new lease of life I have acquired

I feel now I’m more blessed
And I truly know I fear less
I also know I have to press
I want what I want and won’t settle for less

I will achieve, I see my goals
I won’t stop, no I won’t fold
Through the wind storm, rain or cold
To my faith and His hand I’ll continue to hold.

In this poem, Determined, from her book, Gee’s Bend Experience, Tinnie expresses hope, faith and determination. And in her quilts and daughter Claudia’s quilts, the careful observer can hear those three harmonies swirling in a crescendo of cloth and color to proclaim to the world Hallelujah! Amen! l

Stately Ashville home

Bothwell-Embry-Campbell House a landmark with storied history

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Susan Wall

Several families have left their mark on Ashville’s 183-year-old Bothwell-Embry-Campbell House. The widow of the first owner obtained a license to operate a tavern within its walls. The next family raised 12 children there. An ophthalmologist reportedly used some upstairs rooms for a temporary office. His widow is rumored to have spent $60,000 on renovations to the house and grounds that included lowering the ceilings, installing an HVAC system and building a 20-by-40-foot heated, in-ground swimming pool with a waterfall.

Fortunately, the original character and dignity of the two-story frame, classic revival house, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, has been retained. Its four fluted, Doric columns still stand on the front veranda. The original hand-sawn clapboards still cover the outside walls, and the second-floor balcony still hangs without visible support. In the backyard is the original four-seater outhouse.

It was its stateliness as well as its history that attracted the current owners, James and Barbara Mask, to Bothwell-Embry-Campbell House. “She saw it in a real estate ad and had to have it,” James says. “She has filled it with antiques she bought at garage sales, flea markets and antique shops.” They’ve lived in the house since the spring of 2015.

Built in 1835-36 by Ashville’s second physician, Dr. James J. Bothwell, the original structure contained only four rooms, two up and two down. At that time, the kitchen was in the backyard, as was customary for the period. In 1852, Dr. Bothwell added a dining room, kitchen and back porch.

After his death, Mrs. Bothwell got a license to operate a tavern in her home. In 1857, she sold all her Ashville holdings and moved to Mississippi to be near her father’s people. Her cousin, Payton Rowan, bought the house and sold it several years later to W.T. Hodges. In 1880, Hodges sold it to Judge Leroy F. Box, who gave it to his daughter, Lula, as a wedding gift when she married young Ashville attorney James E. Embry in 1882.

Soon after moving in, the Embrys added a large master bedroom downstairs and enclosed the back porch, turning it into a hallway. Their having 12 children may explain the 1917 addition of two upstairs bedrooms. That addition changed the rear roofline of the house, while maintaining the integrity of the original structure.

In 1978, Dr. Lamar M. Campbell and his wife, Rebecca, purchased the house and filled it with their own antiques. Neighbors have told James Mask that Dr. Campbell had his office and possibly an examination room at the rear of the second floor before moving his office to Springville.

After her husband’s death, Mrs. Campbell continued her extensive renovations, adding the HVAC system, the pool and pool house. During the eight years she lived there alone, she bought and sold antiques, storing them in the upstairs rooms while she lived primarily in the back of the downstairs area. It was the constant in and out of furniture that necessitated the only change the Masks have made to the upstairs.

“We reworked and repainted the second-level foyer, because the walls had been skinned with the constant moving of furniture up and down the stairs,” says James. They painted and papered most of the downstairs rooms in various colors and patterns, leaving the green woodwork alone. They haven’t made any structural changes.

Mrs. Campbell lowered most of the downstairs ceilings to accommodate the heating and air conditioning ducts. “The house is easy to heat and cool,” James says. “It has six fireplaces, and four were converted to gas by Mrs. Campbell.” The house also has its two original chimneys made of hand-pressed brick. They serve the two upstairs and downstairs rooms in the original part of the house. In addition, the master bedroom added by the Embrys has a chimney, and the kitchen has an inside one that also served the old kitchen, according to an anonymous article on the house in the Ashville Archives and Museum’s files.

All the mantels and trim are original to the house, but Mrs. Campbell had them pulled out and refinished. Originally, the house was lighted by candles and oil lamps. Several old chandeliers have been wired for electricity.

James was amazed at how solid the house was when he bought it, considering its age. “There’s not a rotten piece of lumber in it,” he says. The framework is made of massive timbers jointed and pegged together. The foundation joists are made of hand-hewn heart pine that is notched and fitted. The four rooms of the oldest section of the house have their original heart pine floors, also fitted together with joints and pegs. Mrs. Campbell had those floors refinished, too.

The Masks have furnished the large room to the right of the downstairs foyer as a parlor, while the room to the left of the foyer is a formal dining room. In the parlor are a working Victrola and a set of records that Barbara picked up at an estate sale, and a 1930s-era radio that James bought for $15. “I bought it to restore the cabinet, but when I got it home, I discovered it actually works,” he says.

A door at the rear of the foyer leads to the back hall, master bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom is split, with a toilet in its own closet on one side of a small hall and a clawfoot tub that was in the house when the Campbells purchased it on the other.

Behind the master bedroom is a large den that has a trap door leading to a tiny, dry basement with a headroom of 5.5 feet. It’s where the heating and air conditioning unit, the hot water heater and water pipes are located. When high winds or tornadoes threaten Ashville, James keeps that trap door open. “We’ve had to go down there a time or two since we’ve lived here,” he says. Another outside door also leads to the basement.

According to one of their neighbors, there was a tunnel under the house during the War Between the States. Supposedly, slaves came and went through that tunnel, which led to the back of the property. “Sometimes they (possibly the Hodges family) hid their slaves in that tunnel, so I’m told,” says James. “They hid their livestock in Horse Pens 40.” He has been unsuccessful in finding the location of the tunnel.

The modern kitchen is the third for the house. The first was outside where the swimming pool is now, according to the Masks. The second was added by the Embrys and is now a laundry room. The formal dining room leads into the kitchen with its breakfast nook. The kitchen, in turn, leads into the laundry room.

An 1835 coin is embedded in the handrail of the staircase that leads from the foyer to the second floor. The staircase has a hand-carved curved newel post, and there is an ornamental pattern hand-carved into the stringer.

On the second floor there’s a large bedroom to the right of the foyer, with a walk-in closet behind it. “That’s my favorite,” James says, as he ushers a visitor into the bedroom. “I would choose it if we slept upstairs.” To the left of the foyer are two more bedrooms, one leading into another, with a small room at the back that may have been Dr. Campbell’s office when he moved to the house. It’s used for storage now.

Two features make the upstairs bathroom a bit quirky. First of all, it’s as large as most modern bedrooms. Second, it has an antique, galvanized metal tub smack in the middle. “Mrs. Campbell was so attached to this tub that she gave it its own room,” James jokes. It was the first tub in the house when plumbing was installed, but it isn’t connected to the water pipes now. It’s strictly for show.

At the front of the house is the upstairs porch or balcony, which has no visible means of support. It is cantilevered off the floor joists of the oldest section of the house. “People probably sat on this porch and watched the Indians ride by on their ponies, then saw Confederate soldiers march through town and then the Union soldiers,” James says. Nowadays, the traffic noise of US 231 (Fifth Avenue), which the house faces, drowns out a person’s thoughts on the porch, especially in the afternoons when Ashville schools let out.

Once upon a time, a brick driveway encircled the house, but Mrs. Campbell’s renovations chopped it up. She enclosed a porch at the back and turned it into a den, then built a sunroom over one section of the brick. Above the sunroom is a deck.

Mrs. Campbell also built the garage, which is next to the privy. The latter is divided into two spaces, one for men, the other for women. (James says the structure next to the privy is the original corncrib, but articles at the Ashville Museum and Archives call it a smokehouse.) Beyond the sunroom is the pool, with its own screened-in picnic room on one side, and a bathhouse on the other.

“We use the pool a lot,” Barbara Mask says. “Our grandkids and great-grandkids enjoy it, too.” One grandson recently used the house and grounds for his wedding and reception.

Behind the privy lies a vast expanse of lawn that includes several pecan trees. A fence encloses the nearly 4 acres of land and delineates the property line. The house and grounds encompass an entire city block.

In the front yard is the latticed well house, with its hand-carved pineapple finial. The only nails in this structure are ones used in repairs through the years. James can vouch for the purity and taste of the well water. “When I work in the yard in the summer, I often draw a cup to drink,” he says.

The Masks love the house but have put it up for sale because health issues are making it difficult to maintain it, the pool and the grounds. Their hope is that the next owners will appreciate its history as much as they do.

Ed Gardner Sr.

Handed over the blueprints for success

Story by Paul South
Submitted Photos

“Where there is no vision, the people perish.”
— Proverbs 29:18

For most, visions of economic development mean shiny, sleek sedans slowly rolling off assembly lines.

But Ed Gardner Sr. envisioned St. Clair County’s economic boom not just in big manufacturing, but in cozy convenience stores, fueled by gasoline, soda and snacks.

Local entrepreneur Bill Ellison remembers Gardner’s first retail project, a convenience store on the I-20 corridor. The area would later grow to include a Wal-Mart Superstore and a wealth of other retailers, restaurants and motels.

Ellison recalls a ceremony announcing the project, the biggest he’d undertaken.

“Ed Gardner got up there and basically, he said, this project was going to change the whole way of life as Pell City knows it. It was going to be so important to the community, it was going to be about a way of life. It was going to be about better city services. It was going to be about public parks. It was going to be about all the things they could do with that money (tax revenue) that would start coming in off of that development. They would have extra money to do things to make this a better community, and it actually turned out that way.”

Indeed, it did. And the seed planted by that small retailer, and the recruitment of big manufacturers across the county, would lead to public parks, better public access to Logan Martin Lake and the Coosa River, the CEPA Center, more money for education and emergency services. Higher wages and better benefits for the county’s people in turn boosted the real estate market.

Gardner, now 82, the recipient of the 2018 Chairman’s Award from the St. Clair County Economic Development Council, is quick to downplay his role. While he was honored by the award, he says it was undeserved.

The award is given annually to a person who has gone above and beyond in their support of economic development in St. Clair County. “These are private citizens – not public officials – who are out there trying to make this county better,” said current St. Clair County Economic Development Council Executive Director Don Smith.

“I’ve always looked at that as, I was paid for everything I did. Like when I was nominated Citizen of the Year, I didn’t think it was fair. The things that I have accomplished are what I’m supposed to be doing. That’s my job, it’s what I’m supposed to be doing. I get up every morning, every day with that in mind, that this is what I’m supposed to accomplish. Awards like that are for people who give of their time, not people who are paid for their time.”

He adds, “It’s a great award, and I’m extremely proud to receive it. And it certainly makes me feel good that the people that I’ve known for the 19 years that I’ve been here, feel toward me that they would want to acknowledge what I have done with a ceremony and a way to commemorate it. It’s a tremendous honor and one that I really don’t feel that I necessarily deserve.”

His resume’ and those who have known Gardner through the years would quickly disagree.

Consider just a few of his accomplishments: Director of the Alabama Department of Economic and Community Affairs in the second administration of then-Gov. Fob James, Assistant Secretary of Housing and Urban Development under the late Jack Kemp. He also served in regional leadership roles for HUD in Birmingham, Atlanta, Florida and Oklahoma City.

He played a key role in Alabama’s burgeoning automobile industry, helping continue the Mercedes Benz project in Tuscaloosa County, and later Honda in Lincoln and the industries that would spin off the auto industry, benefitting all of St.  Clair County. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.

Those who have come to know Gardner over his 19 years in St. Clair County are quick to disagree with his claim that the Chairman’s Award is undeserved. They contend he is the foundation for economic prosperity that St. Clair County has enjoyed in recent years. Its ranking as one of the fastest-growing counties in the state was built in large part, they say, through Gardner’s efforts.

And it came because he brought unity to the county’s drive for prosperity.  Former Pell City Mayor Guin Robinson said in the late 1990s, local leaders committed to work together, ignoring political turf wars that can kill the best-intentioned ideas in small towns and rural counties. St. Clair has had its share, thanks in part to its geography. Not this time.

 “Sometimes the stars align. We had progressive leaders, and we were all committed to do whatever it took to bring the county together around economic development.”

And the biggest piece of the puzzle, many say, was attracting Ed Gardner to St. Clair County.

“The Ed Gardner hire was the biggest the county ever made,” Ellison said. “Forming the EDC and hiring him, I can’t think of anything that’s been more important for this county. Ed always had the right words at the right time. He was an artist with words. He would pick the absolute right word. It was a work of art when Ed spoke.”

Longtime Gardner friend and colleague, local real estate executive Lyman Lovejoy, agrees. Lovejoy still pinches himself when he thinks of how the county landed Gardner for its point person on the economy. He knew how to build confidence and how to bring people together. Lovejoy was on the EDC board for 15 years and was part of the team that interviewed Gardner for the its executive director role.

“He’s got a pedigree that’s unreal. When he was in the interview, he got a phone call and said he had to take it, that it was from then-U.S. Rep. Richard Shelby. I thought it was staged. But it was Richard Shelby. That’s the kind of people he knew.”

The man that holds the job now, EDC Executive Director Don Smith, said that Gardner’s experience at the state and federal level paid dividends.

“It was critical in his ability to come here and have the patience and the temperament to bring everyone together, even if they didn’t want to,” Smith said.

Lovejoy, a past recipient of the Chairman’s Award, added, “He is the one that put us on the road to economic development here in the county. He brought our county together, the towns together, all working the same way for the same purpose.”

Gardner’s philosophy was as simple as the old adage of the rising tide that lifts all boats. A recent informal survey of the county’s major employers revealed that the workforce at each firm came from across the county.

“When you’re talking about jobs, it’s not zip code specific or city specific,” Smith said. “When a company’s expanding with 200 jobs, that’s good for all areas of St. Clair County.”

“He preached a sermon: “Just because they put something in Steele or Pell City, it benefits everybody (countywide),” Lovejoy said. “All the jobs don’t come from Steele or Ashville or wherever. His people skills were unsurpassed.”

And under Gardner’s leadership, St. Clair’s economic development blueprint became a model for other cities and counties.

“Ed validated economic development in St. Clair County,” Lovejoy says. “Other counties would call us and say, ‘How are y’all doing this? Show us what you’re doing.’ That’s going on today.”

Would economic development have transformed St. Clair into one of the state’s fastest growing counties without Gardner?

“It certainly wouldn’t have been as big,” Lovejoy says.

Gardner shies away from an individual spotlight. He will quickly tell you that economic development rests on a two-tiered foundation – teamwork and integrity, doing what you say you’ll do, without excuses.

He will quickly share credit with public and private sector leaders he’s worked with, as well as with his wife of 60 years, Betty, and his children.

And then there is his faith. In their retirement years, the Gardners travel to cities large and small, following their favorite Southern Gospel groups. Whether in Louisville, Ky., or Shipshewana, Ind., or towns near and far, he prefers performers who sing together for the glory of God, not singers who try to bring attention to themselves onstage.

“I’ve always liked gospel music, but I have never liked the demeanor of the most popular groups when they were performing on stage. To me, it ought to be a worship experience.”

Economic development is the same way, he says – perfect shared harmony. And every shared success is granted by the Almighty.

His career of success has also endured pain.

Gardner led the Oklahoma City field office of HUD. Days after he left that role in 1995 to return to Alabama, the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building was bombed in a horrific act of domestic terrorism. Some 168 people died, including 35 of Gardner’s HUD colleagues. Nineteen children being cared for at the America’s Kids Day Care Center in the building, were among the dead. He tries to block out the memory, but it never fades.

Asked how he was impacted by the bombing, Gardner took a long pause. His voice broke and tears came. Those that were lost, he said, “were some of the best people I ever knew. I try to let people know how I feel about them rather than waiting until tomorrow or next week or next month, because . . . because I know that I may not have another opportunity.”

With the Chairman’s Award, Gardner’s adopted home expressed its feelings for him. And while grateful, Gardner’s humility never ceased.

“The thing that I would want people to know is that I never promised anything that I didn’t think I could deliver. And I never committed to anything that I didn’t do my best to complete in an exemplary way.”

He adds: “There’s nothing that I can look back on that can make me look back and say I wish I’d taken this path rather than that path. I tell you, the Lord has been so good to me in giving me a great family that has supported me in times I wasn’t able to be there physically to support them. They never wavered. Therefore, I know I’ve done what I should have done. I am without any doubt, one of the most blessed people that has ever lived.”

And his greatest reward comes not through gleaming plaques or grand ribbon cuttings, but in something more tangible.

“What’s gratifying to me is that when I walk through one of these plants, whether its Honda or  Eismann (Automotive, North America)  here in Pell City or WKW, and I’m walking through there and I see a man or woman there that I had  seen in the past (making minimum wage) and (now) seeing them making a good hourly wage plus benefits, that’s what does more for me than anything else – knowing that their standard of living has really improved.”

Guin Robinson characterized Gardner’s legacy.

“You can have all the necessary things for success,” he said. “But it takes a leader. And it takes someone who can put all the ingredients together. You can call him an architect. You can call him a builder, but Ed put it together. … We all knew we had those things, but we needed someone to put it together. I’m forever thankful and forever grateful that that person was Ed Gardner.”