The Dirigible Came to Vredenburgh

I was born in 1957. Growing up in Monroe County Alabama was indeed incredible. When I was born my parents lived with my grandparents. When I was three years old, my mother went to work at the Vanity Fair Mill in Monroeville. I stayed with my great aunt while my mother worked. I also was blessed to spend a lot of time with my grandparents. Because of that fact I was blessed to hear hundreds if not thousands of stories. What would I give now to be able to go back and rehear those stories again.

My great aunt was born in 1896. My grandfather was born in 1906. My grandmother was born in 1908. My grandfather and great aunt were born and raised up at Sedan which was a community located a short distance above Vredenburgh, in Southern Wilcox County.

My grandmother was born in Clarke County, in the area called Cane Creek, which was in the vicinity of Chance, Syrene, and Lower Peach Tree. I am not sure what went on with her family, but her mother and the children moved to Monroe County in approximately 1916. She always told me it was when she was 8 is where I draw that conclusion. 

Between the three of them there were literally thousands of stories. So many of them I remember bits and pieces of but do not know enough of facts in them to retell them accurately. That is something that I totally regret and wish so desperately that I could.

One story that I remember was of the dirigible.  My grandfather always told a story of the time that the Hindenburg flew over Vredenburgh. Now I honestly do not think it was the Hindenburg because I find no record of the Hindenburg flying in this part of the world. I do indeed believe that there was a airship of that type that did. The reason being that there were so many people that saw it. Therefore, I do not believe he was imagining things.

Looking online I found that the Hindenburg was slightly over 800 feet long. That was huge. I can imagine that the one that they saw was quite possibly something close to that in size. The Hindenburg crashed in May of 1937. By him thinking it was the Hindenburg I assume that this would have been very close in that time frame. In fact, I am thinking that this was just a very short time before it crashed that he saw it. He seemed to think that it had passed over and then crashed like within a day or two. 

This thing whatever it was came over at night. Supposedly there were lights all over it. Or it was well lit.  Apparently, it caused quite as stir in Vredenburgh. From what I can determine it was not running very fast. Also, from the information I can remember it was not flying very high. 

Think about it being 1937 in the town of Vredenburgh. It is night, and this huge thing comes flying over. I don’t know if they had ever even seen an airplane although I would have thought that they would have. Regardless of what they had seen or not seen; this thing definitely caused a stir. Apparently, many were terrified. My grandfather always said that one older woman came running in at the commissary screaming at the top of her lungs. She was screaming over and over, “Lord have mercy, that Frisco has done left the rails.” It had to have been pretty large for her to associate it with a train from the Frisco Railroad. Also for her to associate it with the Frisco Railroad it would have come from the West heading East, since the L&N RR. serviced Vredenburgh from the east side.

Now almost a century later, I have not found anybody else that tells that story. I have not heard it recapped in decades. I just know that from all appearances it really happened.  Like so many other stories that have been told it is one that definitely deserves to be written down and passed on to the future generations.

For those that lived it, this was an experience that they remembered till the day they died. 

The night that the dirigible came to Vredenburgh was definitely a historic event.

The Hole In The Block

It’s an early December morning and I am wide awake. I looked at the clock and it is 4:00 AM. As I lay there thinking before, I get up to start my day my mind travels to yesterday. Working on my documentation of the churches of Alabama my wife and I traveled hard yesterday. I think I captured photos of 27 different churches and traveled close to 200 miles doing it. Then I got home and started sorting the photos into different folders on my laptop. Needless to say, it was a long day.

Then I started thinking about some of the places I had left to go in Monroe County to wrap up the photos of the churches. That is when I remembered I had some up around Peterman that I needed to get to. 

That thought then brought me to thinking about Peterman AL. My wife was raised at Peterman. I had lived there back in the 1970’s. In 1976 I worked at the Peterman Agricultural Company or as everybody knew it The PAC. I was 19 when I started working there. I worked in the equipment shop primarily on the agricultural equipment side. I worked a lot of the time as a road service mechanic. I worked primarily on cotton pickers, and combines, and I also drove a truck a lot hauling equipment. Looking back, I am amazed that at 19 years old I could take a big truck to Atlanta and come back. In fact, the first time I ever drove to Atlanta I drove a big truck. 

While I worked at the PAC I met a lot of people who had a strong influence on my life. Some as always for the worst and some that forever I will remember in the positive. Now for whatever reason I have grown to a point in my life that I have a disdain for talking about people in the negative. I know that if I hear it for any length of time I will be pulled in and doing the same thing. I do however like to talk about people whom I remember that did positive things and that is where my mind immediately went this morning.

I remember Mr. J.B. Philen. He was always very good to me. He assembled new equipment that came in like disc harrows and stuff of that nature. When I was working under the big shed across the road from the main building if Mr. JB was caught up he would come help me and it was almost like he was looking out for me. I had a tremendous respect for him. Mr. Mac Helton was my foreman. I can’t tell you how much I respected him also. He and Mr. JB were both WWII vets. Those were just two of the positive older role model men that I was able to be around in that time in my life. There were numerous others as well that helped me along with wisdom and passed along knowledge to me that even to this day all of these years later I still remember.

At the writing of this story, I am 66 years old. In my 66 years I have seen some incredibly talented craftsman. I worked 22 years in the papermill as a millwright and saw some folks that could do things that you would say, “that can’t be done”, but they did it. Of all that I ever ran into or worked beside however one stands head and shoulders above the rest who made an impression on me.

One of those men that I met while I was up in Peterman was a man named George Lee Chandler. Mr. George Lee as we all called him, lived up on the Hill on what I would way was the southwest side of Peterman. He had a small shop out a way from his house. I saw him do things that I will remember when I am 120 years old if I am blessed to live that long. They made that kind of impact on my life. He was a man that as the old saying goes could take chicken manure and make chicken soup. He could take nothing and make anything. If he could not fix it then it wasn’t really broken. Almost 50 years later I still marvel at some of the things I saw him fix and even am amazed at what others told me that they saw him do. Mr. J.B. Philen told me one day that he had seen him straighten the barrel on a shotgun that had gotten knocked over and bent. That one I never saw but I did see several he did do.

One of the first things I saw him do that amazed me was there was a tractor that came in with a hole in the side of the engine block that a connecting rod had come loose and went through. I am not sure how much an engine block would cost at that time nor possibly if one was readily available. All I know is the man the tractor belonged to told them to “go get George Lee to look at it”.

Mr. George came in and looked at it. He told them to pull it down and he would fix the block. So, they pulled it in the shop and stripped the engine to the bare block. He took it out to the steam cleaner and steam cleaned it for what seemed half a day. Then he washed it with degreaser. Then he ground the hole all around and beveled the edges. An engine block is cast iron, and you can’t burn it with a torch. There wasn’t a way to make a clean cut to get a piece to fit the hole. To get a piece to fit the hole he went out to the junk yard and found an engine out there that was messed up. He then took a hammer and busted some big pieces out of that one. He then took those pieces and brought them in and cleaned them up really good with degreaser. He then ground a couple of those pieces to the size and shape to fit the hole in the engine block. After that he tack welded those pieces into place. 

When I got to work next morning, he was heating it with a rose bud on an acetylene torch.  It appeared that he must have been working on it for a while because it appeared to already be getting hot. He was slowly heating the piece and a large area around the repair. I wasn’t able to stay with him and watch the entire procedure, but I was able to see most of the steps as he did them by observing what he was doing passing back and forth through the shop while doing my work.

He would heat the metal and check the material with a crayon that was designed to melt at a certain temperature. It seemed like he didn’t get in any hurry while doing this. It seemed like he heated for hours. When he got it where he wanted it temperature wise, he then welded the piece into the hole. He would weld a little while and then heat with the torch a while. Every few minutes he would check the temperature with the crayon. When he finally got it welded to his satisfaction he backed off and still maintained temperature on it. He then took two diesel fuel heaters that had blowers in them that were in the shop. He focused them directly on the spot on the block and left them blowing. The next morning when we came in to work there was one of the heaters still blowing on the block and it was backed a good distance away. 

He came in after an hour or so and took that one off and left the engine block laying on the floor the rest of the day. The next morning, he polished the side off with a wire brush on a grinder and painted it John Deer Green and you could not tell it had been repaired.

I would have given anything to have been able to work with him throughout the entire process. I can’t say with certainty how long the tractor ran after that repair. I know I saw it around for a lot of years after that and I never knew of it tearing up. I do know that I was incredibly impressed with that repair. It just amazed me that Mr. George could take what appeared to be nothing and do that kind of work.

Pine Apple Hunter Appreciation 2023

I have been to Pine Apple Alabama many times in my life. When I was in high school, I had friends and family who went to school there. I visited there many times over those years. As time went on, I would go through there from time to time if I was out rambling and in the vicinity of that part of the country. It seemed like the time intervals got longer and longer between visits.

It had been a good number of years since I had been there up until I started rambling, taking photos, documenting, our beloved Southland a couple of years ago. After I went back one time and took a few photos in the area it seems like I am drawn back more and more frequently. 

When I started visiting again, I started hearing about this big day that they have every year in November called Hunter Appreciation Day. This year was the 27th year that they have had it.

 From the best of my understanding, it started as a way to show appreciation for all of the hunters that came in and enjoyed their recreation time in the Pineapple area. That area of the Black Belt is a very rich area in wildlife. Many hunters bring their families and friends into the area and enjoy their recreation there. Over the years many have purchased property, or leased property in the area specifically for that purpose. Because of the benefit that they were for the community as a whole, the Appreciation Day was born. Since the last Saturday of the month of November is normally the opening day of gun season it appears that it was the ideal day to hold it.

I had heard of this special day for years but for whatever reason never went. Normally I would hear of it in past tense. In other words, my memory would be jogged when I heard somebody mention that they went to the event. 

I had full intentions on going two years ago and let it slip up on me. Then last year I had plans to go for sure. Yep, I missed it again. This year I made up my mind that I was going to make it. I would think about it every day or so. Beings that I have been involved in researching things in the Black Belt a lot recently I would be in the area more often. I got reminders every few days in some form. 

My wife and I had been staying in the motorhome at Isaac Creek Campground in Monroe County for a few days. We made a stew for Thanksgiving Lunch and cooked some hoecakes of cornbread on the griddle. Then the day after we rambled the West side of Wilcox and a small portion of Clarke County. 

We watched movie for a while in the motorhome that night. It was just a well-earned time of relaxing to get away from the grind. 

This morning we got up early. Had a normal breakfast and showered and headed to Pine Apple. It was a little over an hour drive.

As we got there, cars were parked everywhere. We rode a good way out and parked beside the highway and walked in. It was definitely a sight to behold. The main street was lined with vendors down both sides. The street was blocked off and people were able to walk freely down the street and enjoy the day.

It was an awesome time. We saw friends that we had not seen in years. We walked the line of booths and enjoyed the arts and crafts of too many different types to even think about keeping up with. We visited a while, reminisced a while with those we saw we knew. As normal I visited a while with a lot I did not know. My dad always said I could start a conversation at a gas pump a thousand miles from home with a stranger, and talk thirty minutes.

There were politicians there who were campaigning for office. I got to see Caroleene Dobson who is running for congress. There were others running for local office. Since I don’t live in Wilcox County they were not on my radar nor me on theirs.

There were antique cars. There was a show and then a parade which was very neat. 

My pick, of all of the vehicles there was a dually 1930 Model A Truck. I thought that was the neatest thing.

I saw another craftsman who had some very interesting game calls that was awesome to me as well. 

Of course, we had to stop by a food booth. There were several of those there as well. There was about any kid of that kind of food you would want there. Rib sandwiches, grilled turkey legs, alligator on a stick, burgers, fries, sausage dogs, various kinds of barbecue, and of course funnel cakes.

Hunter Appreciation Day at Pine Apple Alabama is definitely something that is a family event and I definitely intend to put it on my schedule for next year. I am not affiliated with it in any way, but I highly suggest to anybody that can come and support this wonderful event next year. It is definitely a great day with all there appearing to enjoy themselves.

This is just one of the many great events held in our beautiful historic Black Belt Region of Alabama. Hope to see many more of those as well this coming up year.

Why The Black Belt?

Several people have asked me the question, “Why the Black Belt”?

Here is the best explanation I can give. Ever since I got back into photography a few years ago I have been sort of searching for a niche. I love drones, history, the outdoors, and writing stories. 

I have retired from both my lawn service business and as the pastor of a small church. My wife and I love to get out and ramble. Our health is good. Normally when I am out and about she is with me. 

I have been for quite a while shooting drone photos and videos of forest fire lookout towers. I bought my first digital SLR camera a couple of years ago. I had of course always since I was a kid loved photography. In the 1980’s and 90’s before digital I shot a lot of 35mm photos. I had owned numerous cheap digital cameras and taken a lot of photos with them also.

I felt the need/desire or whatever you would term it to travel and document the various things of our beloved southland. Even back with 35mm I did that often as well as some wildlife photography. First off, I started doing drone videos and putting them on YouTube. As that progressed, I started shooting photos of other things. I especially liked documenting pre-1900 churches.

I had already traveled over several counties in Alabama and some in Mississippi taking photos of the small towns. Midsummer of 2023, I started to try to visit all 67 counties in Alabama. I actually wrote a blog post on doing that in August. Rambling The Southland.

I decided to work the area East of I-65 from the bottom of the state to the top. Then, I would work the area from the bottom to the top on the West side of I-65. I went out four times. I would leave home, hit as many small map-dot towns as I could in a day. Then I would spend the night in my van and go again the next day.

I did this four different times. Three of those times I ran almost 600 miles each and put in a lot of hours. The fourth I ran over 700 miles. I would take so many photos doing this, that it would take me two weeks several hours a day, after I got home, to just go through, sort and locate where all the photos were taken. After that even more time to process and share to social media and on the website.

I was thoroughly enjoying doing what I was doing and planned to continue till I got all 67 counties. When I got up as far north as Hwy. US-80 which had me working the Eastern Black Belt I started to realize that I was trying to cover too much territory at the time. I was taking hundreds of photos, but I was trying to cover too much too thinly. Doing it this way just did not give me enough time to find out anything about what I was photographing. I was just getting photos but not getting the story behind the photos.

That is when I realized that I needed to focus deeper on one area and stick with it. Because there is so much of what I love in the Black Belt, that was where I needed to be. So here I am.

My goal now is to focus for as long as it takes on primarily the Western, Alabama, Black Belt. Western, meaning the areas primarily West of I-65. I do plan at some point to go back into the Eastern part again and do it the same way. My plan is to capture photos of as many of the pre-1900 churches as I can locate as well as any other things of historical interest. Along the way I will document whatever else that I run across that is interesting, unusual, or basically that catches my attention. I will focus at times on wildlife and primarily birds. The Black Belt is very rich in birds, and I feel that is something else I would like to keep documenting.

As I document the churches, I post them on my website under the tab Black Belt Churches. That page has an index of the counties. Under the tabs of the counties are the links to the individual pages of the churches themselves listed in alphabetical order for that county. That will be an ongoing work where I populate the various county pages as I visit them. Over time it will be into the hundreds of historical churches.

I have been and will continue to write blog posts on whatever and whenever as I travel. They can be viewed as I post them on my web site jacksonsramblings.com. I would like to go back to making some videos but I will not say when that will happen because doing what I am trying to accomplish now is a full time job, believe it or not.

From the information gathered and shared on my website it would be nice to have some books as well as calendars and other material printed.

I have always loved wildlife and at some point, I would like to have my wildlife photos somewhere as well, possibly another page on the website or on another website.

This is a project that to do it justice will take several years quite possibly. A lot of it will take multiple trips into the same area over the coming months and even years.

It would be incredible if I could pick up some sponsors who would love to see this accomplished. I could really use some updates on some of my camera equipment. There is also a considerable cost involved in traveling, maintaining and at some point, replacing my Jeep.  There are also expenses to maintain my small motorhome, as well as fuel and campground fees, meals when traveling, and so forth. There are always computer related expenses as well. My current MacBook is three years old so hopefully I won’t have to replace it for a good while yet.

Between my Facebook groups and pages, I now have in the thousands that follow and I appreciate the friendships that I have already made and look forward to a whole lot more as time goes on. I can only imagine what the coming months and years can and will bring. There are so many that I want to meet face to face and learn their stories and the stories of their family’s contributions to our great Black Belt Reigon.

If you have read this far, I welcome you and hope you will see fit to follow along on this project as I travel our beloved Historical Alabama Black Belt.

I have been to Smut Eye, Alabama

The U.S. has a lot of little, small towns with really, unusual names. Some of them even border on the bizarre I would guess you would say. I have been through a few in my time and have heard of many more that I honestly have not taken time to research to see if they really exist. I know in Northern Monroe County, AL. there is Hybart which is named after the family who was the first postmaster there. Then there is Scratch Ankle, it is out from Franklin, AL. There is also Burnt Corn which is on the Old Federal Road on the Eastern Side of Monroe County and is also the County Line. Burnt Corn actually is divided by the road. One side is in Monroe County and one side of the road is Conecuh County.

I have written blogs on Franklin, Burnt Corn, and on Hybart. At some time in the future, I will probably write one on Scratch Ankle.

I have heard of a town named Smut Eye for years but honestly, I never took time to see if it actually did exist, and I surely had never been there that I remember anyway. 

As I was planning out a trip a month or so ago, I ran across the name on the map. Immediately I was enthused. I marked that one on my list. I just had to go to Smut Eye. I was not sure what I would find. Pretty much any of these little towns that I visit is a surprise. “Kind of like a box of chocolates.” You never know till you get there and see. I just had to go to Smut Eye if for no other reason than to say, “Hey I have been to Smut Eye, Alabama before.

According to various sources online it is an unincorporated community in Bullock County, Alabama. Various sources say that it got its name from the soot on people’s faces that hung around the Blacksmith Shop. I am sure there are several renditions of that story concerning the Blacksmith Shop. There is an in-depth story or two on that subject and much more information online at http://www.smuteye.com/history-smuteye.htm.

As with most very small communities scattered across the country, time has not been good to the structures there. It was getting on over in the afternoon when I got there, and it was going to be the last stop for me for the afternoon. I had dawdled for too long in other places. I was staying the night all the way over at Bluff Creek on the Georgia line. I was not nearly as far East as I had intended to be by that time of the afternoon.

I did not have time to look for long, but I did see a couple of old buildings and I took a few pictures.

As I sat back for the night after I had been there, I could only think what Smut Eye might have been like a hundred years ago. Although I have not seen pictures of it, nor do I know where it was located, in my mind’s eye I started to visualize what the blacksmith shop might have looked like. I pondered on the mental picture that I painted of it. The horses and mules that would come in to be shod. Quite possibly there would be oxen that would be shod as well. There would have been wagons quite possibly that would have had to have wheels repaired on. There would have been plows to sharpen and possibly other things needing repaired on the plow stocks. I stopped and focused on the shop itself. There would have been a forge to heat metal with. There would have been an anvil to hammer out things on to shape them. There would have been a vise mounted on a post somewhere most likely in an open area of the shop. There would have been numerous other tools sitting around as well.

Because of writings I read about the place I stopped and started thinking about the people coming in and hanging out. It quite possibly would have been a gathering place that the men of the community would have used when they were not working in the fields or, doing other farm work. Possibly a place that they might gather if they brought their wives and daughters to the store. The men and boys might have meandered over to there to wait and socialize.

Too many years have come and gone. For those that are associated with the place locally there are I am sure, some memories that have been handed down by the generations. In the not-too-distant future, even the numbers of those that have heard the stories will dwindle down, until they are remembered no more.

Smut Eye Alabama, another small town in the U. S. that has been bypassed with progress, or from the perspective of some like myself destroyed by a false progress that so many deem as good. 

One thing is for sure. I can truthfully say. I have been to Smut Eye, Alabama.

Clayton, Alabama

As I keep repeating over and over again, I feel an overwhelming desire to visit all 67 counties of our beloved state of Alabama. 

On one of my recent trips out I had the pleasure of visiting a little town in Barbour County named Clayton.

According to Encyclopedia of Alabama https://encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/clayton/

Clayton has been the county seat of Barbour County since 1834. Barbour County was created from parts of Pike County and Louisville was chosen as the county seat. One year later an 11-member commission was formed to determine a new site for the county seat. After selecting a site in the geographic center of the county in 1834, county leaders christened the town Clayton in honor of Judge Augustine Smith Clayton, a U.S. representative from Athens, Georgia. The town was incorporated by an act of the Alabama Legislature on December 21, 1841.

Like I do on almost every little town I have had opportunity to visit I drove into town and passed through looking to see where I wanted to start. I do this because there are normally so many options to look at and I am normally limited. I normally leave home and try to take a swath across the state from wherever on I-65 East to the Georgia State Line. I have on the past three trips across spent a night in a campground in the area. Then I covered more area the next day and then went home. On this particular afternoon, I arrived in Clayton around 1:30 PM. Knowing I had a lot to see and a short time to see it I parked my van and hit the streets with my camera.

I had seen pictures of things in Clayton and had people on my Social Media group that had shared about it.

I had also read that it had once been a flourishing town with many stores and various other businesses over the decades past.

One of the first and more impressive things I saw as I walked along was an impressive mural. It clearly depicted much of the beauty and history of Clayton. It was, in my opinion well thought out. The designers and artist involved did a great job making a positive influence on this historic little Southern Town.

Another interesting sight was the Octagon House. 

According to the historical marker beside the house, between 1859-1861. It was built by Benjamin Franklin Petty who was a carriage and furniture merchant. Mr. Petty was a native of New York and was a pioneer settler of Clayton. The Octagon House was patterned after the design made popular by Orson S. Fowler’s Book, A Home For All.

This is indeed a beautiful house that has stood the test of time. It is beautiful and definitely a show piece. Thankfully it appears to be well preserved and can be admired by future generations.

Another interesting find in Clayton was the Clayton Presbyterian Church. The sign out front stated that it was built in 1871. This is indeed a beautiful old building that has stood the test of time. It appears to be fairly well, maintained outside. I am sure that when it was built that it was a marvel of its time in this part of the world. As I stood in front of it, questions came to mind. I wondered how long it had been active? I wondered how many people had attended church services there when it was in its prime? I wondered how many years it had been since it was filled? I also wondered if it was active in some way even to this date?

One more treasure of the past of this like thousands of others in small towns in America struggling to just survive from being reclaimed by nature, wondering how many more generations will care to keep it maintained and standing.

As I always do I search for old churches, particularly those built either pre-1900 or early 1900’s. There is just something about then that intrigues me. I see them all over the Southland as I travel.

Another beautiful one is in Clayton. It is the Grace Episcopal Church. This old church according to the historical marker out front was completed on February 26, 1876. It is a Gothic Revival Style building

There are numerous other buildings left in Clayton that are kept up better or should I say have been freshly had a face lift of some sort. Such as the blue building here. I was told on social media that the right side of this one was the Ford Tractor Dealer.

Now as to every other small town I have been in on this journey across our beautiful state I want to bring this to attention. Actually, for me any ways it is the most important. It is one of the primary purposes of this endeavor. This part is not to bring shame or bring condemnation on Clayton nor any other small town I visit. It is to bring front and center the plight that Rural America is in.

Clayton, like all that I have been in has suffered. It has lost so much. Like every small town I know of there are empty buildings that are literally deteriorating around us. They all have a story. Many served for decades. Many were dreams that lived a lifetime and the proprietors’ retired or passed away. They all tell a story.

As with many of the small towns that I visit and share photos of on social media, Clayton has had and I hope continues to have many others that reminisce of times past. It warms my heart to see people share their stories of growing up there and of the thigns of the past the bring good memories to them. It does sadden me however many times when others that have not been to these towns see photos of them and it hurts them like it does me to see what has happened to the small towns of our childhoods.

As always, thank you for reading and following my ramblings and please feel free to leave comments.

Jackson

I Just Wound Up At Burnt Corn, Alabama

Now Saturday is a rest day for me at this point in my life. I always joke and tell people since I am pretty much retired that, “I’m so lazy that if I got an award for being lazy, I would have to send somebody after it.”

My wife wasn’t feeling well because of a tooth situation so we had been hanging out at the house all day. She is like me in a sense. She can only sit in the house and do nothing for so long. Then, she has got to get up and get out and do something.

Finally, I asked her, did she want to go take a ride in the Jeep. She said well I don’t think my tooth will hurt any worse riding than it will sitting so I got my camera, a bottle of water, and a cup of coffee, and out the door we headed.

Just me my wife and our dog. We loaded in the Jeep and rode out and filled up with gas and headed out.

Now you have to understand something. Going for a ride in the Jeep in our part of the world is not a hard decision. Where, we end up going however, can be kind of a challenge. It is kind of like a couple that has been married for a lot of years trying to figure out where to eat supper. It is all good but where we want to go is just an elusive idea. 

I started making my way out of Monroeville and for whatever I headed out towards Drewery AL. There are many dirt roads out that way and many times when we go ride on a whim we go out that way and hit the dirt roads. 

For whatever reason I did not take one of the dirt roads but kept riding on the pavement. I was about halfway between Bermuda, and Burnt Corn when it hit me. I want to go to Burnt corn and take some photos. I haven’t taken any photos there in quite some time.

For whatever reason, Burnt Corn is one of those places that folks never get tired of taking pictures at. I honestly don’t remember the first time I took photos there, but I know that there are pictures hanging on people’s walls of the Methodist Church there that I took with a Canon AE-1 back in the 1980’s. I have taken photos there numerous times since. 

Burnt Corn Methodist Church, an Icon of South Alabama.

Sadly, I don’t have many of the photos left that I took so many years ago with 35mm film cameras. I took hundreds if not thousands of them. I honesty do not know how many times I took photos of the churches and such at Burnt Corn.

Today however, is a new day and I decided that today was the day I was going to go back in and shoot some photos of Burnt Corn again, like I have done numerous times before.

We drove up in front of the Bethany Baptist Church and I parked off the side of the road and got out. There is normally not a major traffic congestion issue in Burnt Corn so as long as you are not parked in the road you are good to go.

Historic Bethany Baptist Church Built in 1874.

I took several shots of Bethany Baptist from several directions. As I was standing there taking photos and admiring it and how nice the paint looked, my mind went back to some time ago. I remembered another time I was taking photos of it and it had gotten in bad condition and needed painting. I had shared the photos on social media, not even thinking about how it looked.

I guess I have taken so many photos of so many little towns with buildings in bad shape that it just didn’t make much of an impression on me. The reason I didn’t think is I take photos by the hundreds of things that are in bad condition, and personally I had no ties to it other than I went to a few services there in the late 1970’s.

It did however cause a lot of people who saw it to take notice real fast. Before long there were numerous people contacting me and wanting to look at more of my pictures of it. Then a group got together and started raising funds and within weeks it was being painted. 

It actually felt good to stand there and look at it and make photos of it with a nice paint job on it. The cemetery did need some attention but everything else was in great shape as far as I was concerned.

I then walked down the road with my camera and took a few shots of the Methodist Church. I have never been inside of the Methodist Church. I know that it has been an icon of our part of the world as with most things in Burnt Corn for decades. I know that like I mentioned early on I took photos of it in the 1980’s and enlarged some of them to 11X14’s and sold several of them. 

I have heard many stories of that church, and how it came to be there, and how it came close to being torn down years ago, and so forth. What the stories are, and how they go, I am not sure, so I am not going to try to share them today, but it is a beautiful old church, and is a land mark that is recognized by many people all over the country.

Then I walked back and got in the Jeep with my wife and our little dog who were patiently waiting on me to do what I was doing.

I pulled up and parked the Jeep at the edge of the road near the Big Store. It was there that I remembered the house that sits out in the woods beside the Big Store.  I shot a few photos of it. As I stood there wondering the history of that house. I honestly do not remember anything about it. In fact, I honestly for whatever reason, did not even realize it was there until a year or so ago. I had passed it hundreds, if not thousands of times, and for whatever reason had not paid it attention. I guess my attention had always been focused on the store or other buildings.

I then backed up and shot a few shots of the Big Store from different angles. Yet again I started to reminisce. I remember when I was probably seven or eight years old my father and I went in the store. That would have been there first time I remembered going in. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I remembered that my father had a horse that Mr. Lowery had used. Now I do not know the story as to details but, I know he used him more than one time. I think that they had horses and might have had folks from out of town come in and needed an extra horse to ride. Anyway, he had a horse that was an excellent saddle horse, and Mr. Lowery had used him more than once. I know one time they came over to Hybart and got him and one time we carried him over.

Then I backed out and started taking photos of the other buildings one by one. They are like stepping back in time. The histories of the rest I do not know. I know one is known as the old Barber Shop Building. There are others that are identified by many for the purposes they served over the years. Since I do not remember on some and on others, I never knew to start with. I won’t even try to define them nor their purposes throughout the decades.

Then there is the Coca-Cola advertisement building. Over the years since it was painted, I honestly think that Burnt Corn is known more for that building than even the Methodist Church. I cannot tell you how many times I have seen photos of that building. I am not sure when the advertisement was painted nor who painted it but I know it is a well-known sight in the South.

I walked the street and took photos one at the time and then proceeded to walk back to the Jeep once again. As I was walking back to the Jeep I thought about the fact that one more unique thing about Burnt Corn is that it is on the Monroe, Conecuh, County line. The Big Store, and the Bethany Baptist Church, The Barber Shop, and the building with the Coke sign are in Monroe County. The Methodist Church and the other buildings on that side of the road are in Conecuh County. The road dividing the counties here is actually the Old Federal Road.

With that thought sliding around in my mind I got in the Jeep, and we drove on. 

Burnt Corn is a town full of history. It is much the same it has been for the last century, and hopefully it will continue to be maintained and remain the same for another century. There will always be those like me to walk through on a lazy Saturday afternoon and take photos of and reminisce and wonder about it. If it is not maintained, at least myself and many like me will have photo records of it for the decades to come.

If you have not been there you need to go. It is a magical special place.

Fort Deposit, Alabama

As those of you that have followed me on Facebook and other means know that I am working on several projects. One being get a drone video of as many standing Forest Fire Lookout Towers that are still standing in Alabama as I can. Another project that I want to accomplish is to visit all 67 counties in Alabama. In those counties I like to document the buildings left standing that probably won’t be a decade from now. I also like to document as many churches as I can that I see. Most times it is the old country whitewashed ones standing out and away, but many of the others as well. Of course, I will photograph anything interesting, different, or historical.

As I say more times than not when I write, I photograph the decay of our beloved Southland not to point an accusing finger nor degrade any local areas but rather to bring awareness to what has happened, and the damage done. 

As is true with many I run into it bothers me to see what has happened to our great beautiful land. I try to shy away from politics and finger pointing as to the issues and rather to just show what has happened and allow those that see to make their own determinations. 

I know all of this sounds redundant, but I feel that it needs to be said over and over. 

Another decade and much of what we see in whatever forms of decay won’t be standing at all.

On this particular, trip my goal as to travel East from I-65 to the Georgia state line taking a zig zagging route pretty much North of Al. Hwy 10. This was to be my third trip across on this venture. The previous two trips had been across at lower levels with me working across one day, spending the night on the East side and working back West the second day. 

As I was planning a recent Ramble, I was looking at my maps. I was trying to make a determination on what route I wanted to take. As the paths across move northward it requires more driving over the same areas already covered to get to the starting point so to speak.

For whatever reason my eyes settled on Fort Deposit. I have been through what we all know as Fort Deposit on I-65 hundreds of times in my lifetime. I however, cannot say that I have ever visited the town of Fort Deposit other than many years ago I went to the Calico Fort Arts and Craft show a couple of different times. 

For whatever reason I honestly thought the town itself was on the East side of I-65 and not the West. 

As my eyes settled on Ft. Deposit I started to settle on a route there taking the back roads. On this route I found Mt. Willing where a Fire Tower is still standing that I did not have photos of, so I could check something else off the list of things I Was working on. I actually wrote about that in an earlier post. https://jacksonsramblings.com/mt-willing-lookout-tower/.

Now as I drove the route up, and shot photos of various things, primarily old churches on the way up, and got the Fire Tower shots done, I made it to Fort Deposit.

According to Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Deposit,_Alabama

Since 1890 it has been the largest town in Lowndes County, AL. According to the information on Wikipedia it grew from 2000 to 2010 but then declined between 2010 and 2020. I would venture to say from the appearance I saw it is declining sharply since 2020. I have no way of knowing that for sure and I honestly hope something changes to reverse that.

Reportedly the town sits on 5.6 square miles.

Fort Deposit was named for the fort built there under orders of General Andrew Jackson. It was a supply fort that was built to supply soldiers during the times of the Creek Indian Wars. It was incorporated February 13, 1891. It also is supposed to be the highest point between Montgomery, AL. and New Orleans, LA.

Again this information came from Wikipedia and is referenced there is anybody chooses to source it all out.

Now as I arrived in Fort Deposit I was not certain what I would see. From experience of traveling small old towns, I figured there would be some buildings that were vacant and in various stages of decay. Sadly, very seldom do I visit an older Southern Town do I not see that.

The very first thing I saw upon entering town was a gathering of people. Curious I slowed down and realized that it was a food giveaway. There were trailers with pallets of food that was being distributed. There was a line of cars with folks waiting in line to get food. This is a sight that is all too common across the country. I did not take time to even estimate how many cars there were nor how many people but I know that the length of the line was incredible to me. This added to my thoughts of how depressed our beloved Southland has become.

I rode around and took various pictures of the various places in town. This is a town that has suffered immensely. A once bustling beautiful town that is like hundreds if not thousands more across America that are nothing more than rotting down buildings. 

I say it every time I go into a town like this it breaks my heart. As I have seen on the various trips I have taken in the past and would see on this trip these towns are everywhere as I will write in blog posts to come.

Stores, post office buildings, doctor’s offices, churches, and many homes. So many times just sitting there deteriorating.

Many times, you can identify the place by the sign or remnants of a sign that is there still. Other times there is no sign and if a local does not fill you in you have no way of knowing what was there. Clothing stores, mom and pop grocery stores, all closed up. 

Overlooking the town there was a beautiful painted water tank. That is a sign of hope. It is a thing of beauty. As always that is still a sign of the future. I also saw numerous houses well kept up in the residential areas of town. That is a positive as well. Although the businesses were forced to close fortunately people are still able to. Live there. 

One beautiful thing to me was this beautiful church building. I hope somebody will chime and with comments and tell me all about it. It looks to me like it is going through some sort of renovation, which I think is awesome.

I saw other positive things here. There were other churches that were still kept. Even though there were many buildings that were empty or just there, there was life still in this town which I am glad to see.

Like so many of our southern neighbors this town will most probably be here many years to come and somehow I would not doubt it coming back to something of its former glory one day.

As always it was a pleasure to visit Fort Deposit, Alabama and hopefully I will see it again in the not too distant future and hopefully there will be signs of growth and comeback that are evident to all. 

Rambling The Southland

As many of you know that follow me on Facebook, and other sources online and even in person, I travel a lot. In fact, I have made it my mission to visit all 67 counties in Alabama within the next year. Somewhere in that timeframe I intend to visit a lot more of Mississippi as well.

More than one person has asked me why, are you doing that?

Well, it goes like this. As many who know me know, I have a fascination for history. Now at different times I have interest in different things. Plus, I have an overwhelming interest in photography. Now, put the two together and guess what you come up with? I have an almost unquenchable interest in taking photographs of things from the past.

Living in Monroe County, Alabama I have seen the towns of Frisco City, Repton, Peterman, Tunnel Springs, Beatrice and so forth pretty much dry up in my lifetime. I mean there are still people there but there are basically just rows of rotting down buildings that are for the most part falling in. I guess it had never even dawned on me that this was a problem in other places. Not sure why, but it just never seemed to really click.

As many know I also fly drones and love old Fire Towers. A couple of years ago I started on a project to locate and do a drone video of as many of those old Fire Towers as I could find. I don’t know why but even with that I had no clue as to how many were standing still in the State of Alabama nor the condition, they were in.

New Hope Church Natchez AL.
Bull Slough Bridge
Coaling Tower

As I started to travel and get photos of those towers. I also started to notice how many old churches that there are standing that are abandoned or are on the verge of being abandoned. It was like a light bulb went off in my head I guess you could say. It is like most small towns you go into there is one or two old churches normally that were founded in the mid to late 1800’s that are just sitting there.

Then as I rode through the towns, I was familiar with and for some reason I started to really notice how many buildings were vacant and rotting down it really started to hit me. These are going away fast. The buildings, the churches, and the fire towers. They are all going away at an alarming rate. 

That is when my mission I guess you would call it became clear to me. I am retired. I have less and less responsibilities. I have my health. I have decent vehicles, and I have decent equipment to document this stuff with. I am not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination but by managing reasonably well I have the resources to travel and do it. 

Here is my Dodge Caravan that is converted into a sleeper van. It has AC and an almost full sized bed so that I can sleep comfortably. I also have a small cooler sized refrigerator. It is quite comfortable and is ideal for most excursions.

So that leads me to where I am now. I am on a mission to travel our beloved Southland and document as much of it as I can. Churches, fire towers, stores, water towers, other places of business and anything else interesting I see along the way.

As many know I am the founder and moderator of the group “The Good Ole Days of Monroe County Al.”.  I love that group. It is a great group, and it has done well. It however as was created is for Monroe County Alabama and thus I wanted it to remain that way.

I quickly realized that doing what I wanted to do was going to cause me to do a lot out of Monroe County. One visit to Mississippi made me realize that it was going to be more than just Alabama. Thus, Jackson’s Ramblings came into being. Then my slogan, “Rambling the Southland and Beyond.” Well, that seemed to get it going. Then when I hit on a slogan, immediately I thought Facebook group. So, I named the Facebook Group, “Rambling the Southland and Beyond.” That way anything documented would fit the category.

There have been many contributors who have a like desire of photographing old, unusual, and or interesting things, that have shared and continue to share on the group. I hope that as time goes on that those and more will continue to share. If you area reading this and are one of those you are greatly appreciated.

At the time of this writing the group has 2740 or so members and is growing many weeks at the rate of 50 to 100 a week. It was created in June of 2022. My only hope is to see the group grow to how ever big it can grow. Tens of thousands would be incredible.

I also love to write. As those who take time to read my writing can readily see I have a lacking in writing skills. I aways joke and say that they only thing that kept me from doing great in high school was elementary school. I am the first to admit that I have issues with grammar and punctuation. However, I like to feel like that I make up for that with desire and determination.

With all of that said, there is a wealth of places, buildings, and other things that are standing today that in a very few years will no longer be standing. For the years I have left, and I hope it is a lot, I intend to take photos of those things, document them as best I can, and write about them as time allows. 

It would be incredible to be able to fund the travel, and equipment, to do this in some way while doing it. I do not have a large enough audience for any business or group to pay me sponsorship. My viewership on my blog is too small for the ads associated with it to make me money, or at least for this time. I have not updated my Youtube channel in a while as well. It takes a lot of time and effort to keep it all up. Some weeks I drive 500 plus miles or more. Sometimes I spend a night in my van some place to keep from having to stay in a hotel or drive home. Then there are hundreds of photos to look at figure out where they were taken, organize them and then file. It is a labor of love but also almost a full time job.

Hopefully in the future this can change. I plan to try to write more blog posts as I travel and interact more that way. Hopefully I can go back to doing more videos as well.

Thanks, to all who have supported me in this endeavor, and I look forward to meeting others along the way who have like interests.

Come join me as I Ramble the Southland and Beyond.

Coke Ovens of West Blockton

As I state over, and over, again when I write I am utterly amazed at what one can find out and about in this great Southland in which we live. The numbers of interesting things is beyond imagination. At ever twist in the road there is another interesting treasure to behold. Sometimes it is a treasure of today. More times than not it is a remnant of our rich and wonderful past.

Recently we had occasion to travel to the area of Tuscaloosa, Al. We took our Motorhome up to park and spent time with my wife’s sister who was taking care of her husband who was terminally ill. By the grace of God we found a spot to park at Vance, Al that was only a very few minutes from their house.

Since we were not totally sure of the outcome of all that was going to happen we had no way of knowing how long we would be up there nor any other particulars so we decided that it would be best if my wife took her car. I of course towed my Jeep behind the motorhome. I mean “have Jeep will travel”.

Once my wife was settled in and able to travel back and forth as she needed I had the itch to find out what is here. First off I looked for a Fire Tower that was in the area but that led to a dead end because when I finally found where I “think” it is there was a locked gate. Therefore that was not going to happen. If I could have seen it and had been able to keep visual line of sight I would have sent my drone in and got some drone footage of it. However I never could see it so that was out.

After that dead end I started back towards Vance still looking. I saw a sign that said West Blockton. I rode through the intersection that I later found out that I should have turned left at to go into West Blockton. A short distance down the road I saw a sign indicating that there was a historic Coke oven there.

Now I don’t know about you but I had to find out more about this historic Coke oven. To start off with the term Coke oven in its own self was a curious thing. I mean I know about Coke a Cola. I knew that this had nothing to do with that. I knew that coke us a slang term for cocaine. I knew that this did not have anything to do with that. So what was this? Then slowly but surely I started to remember that from Alabama History taught when I was in school that coke was used in making steel. Then it all clicked.

So I had to find out about these ovens. Upon entering the park I encountered this small contraption sitting out there like it had been there forever. It has Plymouth written on the top of the grill. It was made out of heavy steel. It looked like a baby railroad locomotive. Upon further study I found from signs posted that this was a small switch engine that was used to spot railroad cars utilized in the process of the Coke ovens. There was actually a track that ran along the top of the ovens and one that ran along the bottom of the ovens. The one at the top I earned was used to fill the ovens from small rail cars called of all things Larrys. These small cars supposedly had discharges under the bottoms that could funnel coal into the tops of the Coke Furnaces. In the middle there was a double row of ovens and on each side there was a single row. The locomotive would position the Larrys over the opening of the furnaces and fill them when they were ready to have a fresh load of coal loaded into them.  The tracks on the bottoms beside the ovens were where the coke was loaded onto other cars to be carried to a steel mill to be used in producing iron.

According to another sign more information was given. It said that coke ovens were used to convert coal into coke. Coke was a cleaner burning fuel that produced very little smoke. 

Construction started on these ovens in the late 1880’s. There were 140 ovens producing coke by 1889. They were in a bee hive fashion double layered facing out from each side. These rows were later named rows two and three because others were added.

By the summer of 1890 Alabama was in the middle of the boom times of the iron and steel industry. Due to the need for more single rows were added on each side and at the peak there were 467 ovens stretching over four rows.

Coke was the fuel that powered the iron and steel industry in Birmingham which is located not too far away. Coke is produced by being charred from coal much like charcoal is charred from wood.  Coke was superior to uncooked coal in numerous ways. It burned hotter, was lighter to transport, and had fewer impurities like sulfur that could weaken the integrity of steel.

To make coke a worker would loosely lay bricks in the door of the oven. Then the small larry car would fill the charging hole on the oven with washed raw coal. Then workers would level the coal in the oven and make sure that the door was tightly filled with bricks only allowing enough opening to allow a proper air flow through the oven to make for proper ignition. 

As the coal ignited and started burning it would give a white puff or small explosion. At this point the door was sealed up to keep the col from burning up entirely. Reportedly this charge would burn from 48 to 72 hours. The coke had to be quenched with water so that it could be cooled and would not completely burn up when the door was opened back to remove it. This process was reported to take 45 minutes to an hour to complete.

Then the “puller” opened the door and the finished coke would be broken up and loaded into the rail cars on the bottom to be transported.

These four rows of coke ovens owned by the Cahaba Coal Company were not the earliest coke ovens in its company but well might have been the largest single installation. Had the ovens been placed end to end they would have been over a mile in length. In 1883 The Cahaba Coal Company constructed a company railroad from Woodstock to a mine being opened in a nearby town called Gresham. That town had its name changed to Blockton and was named for a one-ton block of coal that was removed from the number two mine by the mine owner named Truman Aldrich.  

By 1887 because of the high quality of the Blockton coal for steam purposes the coal was being furnished to four major railroad corporations. It was reported that Blockton coal was in such high demand that all orders for the coal could not be filled. At peak operation the coke oven facility produced approximately 200 tons of coke per day. After 1909 no records show any coke being produced after that year. 

Like so many other towns in the southland we see an area that was raised from wilderness and went through a heyday in time of in many cases less than a century and then dwindled fast. So many towns basically went away later but this one was earlier. 

While walking through the rows of mounds of overgrowth looking up and the remnants of some of the coke ovens still somewhat intact one can only imagine what it must have been like with all of this in operation. 

The would have been in all probability a heavy haze of smoke and coal dust floating through the air continuously. It would have been hot, hard, dirty work to keep the coal flowing in and the coke flowing out. One can only imagine how may men would have been required to keep it going. Also, understand the fact that there was little machinery available to do this sort of work. Thus most of the work was physical that was involved in handling the production of this vital product.

I am thankful that the city of West Blockton still has this informative park opened. It is sad that it is not maintained to a level that one can easily see how it was all done back in the days of the production of the coke.

I would invite anybody that has a thirst for knowledge of thing of the past to stop by this place and see the history of this place that like countless others of our past is slowly deteriorating into oblivion.

Hybart, Alabama

Thanks to Fred Hybart for the photo.

If one travels North on Al. 41 from Monroeville, Al. they will travel through some of what many say is the last foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. 

This is a winding road with many hills and hollows that rivals many places in other parts of the world for their beauty. Steep hills, sharp curves, incredible views in various places. Along this road is some of the most beautiful and rugged land in South Alabama. 

In the northern most part of Monroe County one comes to a small quaint little village called Hybart. The Monroe/Wilcox County line is there. I honestly can’t prove it but I have always been told that the rail road track at Hybart is the lowest elevation in Monroe County, and only a few miles as the crow flies Look Out Hill is the highest. One topo map I looked at put the elevation there as 94’ and Look Out Hill at 433’. I did not check everywhere in Monroe County to determine what was lowest and what was highest. Water runs out of Hybart so I am not sure how it being the lowest could be determined. However the railroad crosses the county line in Hybart also. Water doesn’t run up hill. Sounds good though anyway.

I was “always told” that the community of Hybart was named for James Willis Hybart who was the first postmaster of Hybart. According to the information on the Facebook page of the Hybart-Bell’s Landing Preservation Society, “He was the first postmaster there when the post office was established in 1926. Mrs. Carol Hybart was Post Mistress when it closed in 1976.” Many communities I have found out were named after the original post master there so that makes perfect sense.

Click Image to enlarge

There is a small white building in Hybart that has Post Office on it. I never remember a post office being in that building. One source I talked to said that it was indeed used for only a couple of months. I cannot confirm it but, I seem to remember that the post office was also in the store that was the Johnson/Sessions store very briefly as well, but I have not run into anybody else that confirms that so I am not sure. At any rate if/when it was in that building it was with a temporary postmaster and a very short time. I personally was not living in the area and only visited and can’t remember for sure. It seems like in the back of my mind that both places were used temporarily until it closed completely after Miss Carole Hybart retired.

One of the many interesting things about Hybart is the fact that there are or have been several artesian wells there. In my lifetime I remember that there was one right beside the road at the store that was on the highway. There was one out in the pasture that is west of hwy. 41 and south of County rd. 56. There was one down 56 on the right a little way’s down toward Coy. There was one at Mr. Cecil Sheffield’s shop that was actually across the County Line and on the west side of hwy. 41. I am sure that there were probably others that I did not know about. However, I always thought that there were a lot of them for the area. As a kid I always wanted to get a drink out of them. It was cold water but it always had a strong sulfur smell and taste. Ha ha my grandmother always called it a rotten egg smell.

In my early childhood years the store out on 41 was owned by Mr. Greg Johnson and his family. My grandmother always said that before he owned it that Mr. Jeff Sessions ran it. He was the father of Jeff Sessions who later became a long serving US Senator, and then Attorney General in Washington DC. My grandparents always called him Little Jeff.  I do not know the years. For a large part that was the store she traded at. My grandmother always reminisced that when Mr. Sessions sold the store to Mr.  Johnson that he introduced her to Mr Johnson and told him that she would be a loyal customer if he treated her right. However we went in both of them from time to time. 

Having watched Jeff Sessions grow up, and later grow to the prominence that he attained in life, my grand parents and other family members were always proud of him and they passed way long before he was elected to the senate. One funny thing my grandmother used to say about him was that my dad and uncle who were about 10 or 12 years older than Little Jeff, would go in the store when Little Jeff was in there as a very small kid. As kids will do they would always ask him, “what is your name”? My grandmother said he would always answer, my name is Jeffery “By God” Sessions. He was too small to say Beauregard. They were I guess like al of the Hybart people proud of his accomplishments.

Mrs. Carol Hybart was the Post Mistress there and the post office was attached to her house. Mr. Jack Hybart ran a the other store that was on the south side of Co Rd. 56 closer to the road than the house. That store still stands today although it has been vacant for many years.

Click image to enlarge

As a preschooler I stayed with my great aunt Minnie Jordan whom many of us simply knew as Aunt Minnie, while my mother worked at Vanity Fair in Monroeville. She lived a couple of miles south of Hybart right off Al. 41. We would venture down to Hybart a couple of times a week to the stores and post office and other places. I remember going in the store and getting an Ike and Mike Stage Plank and an Orange Soda. I remember that there was always a big glass container on the counter that held cookies also that were to die for as well. 

When we went out Aunt Minnie would many times visit some of the folks in the community. I remember on several occasions going with her to visit Miss Abbie Sessions who lived in the house on the right of 56 before the post office Where Senator Sessions was raised. She visited numerous people. That was the only way she had of communication because there were no phones south of Hybart.

Back in that era of time as it is today, politics was always a discussion but, as a preschooler I was clueless as to what that even meant. I remember though that Aunt Minnie had to work at the polls one time. This was the presidential election when John F. Kennedy was running. Looking back I do not know if it was the primary, or final election. It seems like somebody came to her house early that morning and told here that they needed her to work. Nobody up our way had a telephone back then. I know it was unexpected. I had to spend the day at the polls. The voting place was in the back of Mr. Jack Hybart’s Store. Many people came in or it seemed a lot anyway.

Click image to enlarge

Later on the county moved a little white house out to the corner of Co. Rd. 56 and Al. 41 and there was where folks voted for years. I remember that my father was one that was charged with helping count the votes and them sealing the metal box and having to take it to Monroeville on election night.

This was in the very early 1960’s. Where the McGraw’s store later named Gaines’s Store is now located there was a tin covered building. In that building there was a shop of some sort that worked on things like pulp wood trucks. It was after Mr. Jack Hybart’s store closed that the McGraw’s Store was built and opened to the best of my memory. 

Aunt Minnie had worked as a switch board operator in Vredenburgh, and at Beatrice for years. She had also worked for the railroad at the depot. Because of her ties to the railroad and railroad people, from time to time we would go to the depot and see the agent there. I remember the agent having a pole with a U shape on the end that had rubber bands stretched across it. In between those rubber bands would be papers that they called orders. When the train switched cars in and out at Hybart the depot agent would hold them up, and the engineer would reach out the window and take them out of the rubber bands. I was fascinated by them being able to do that.

Being a little kid the sound of the train coming through was so loud that it was terrifying. Today 60+ years later looking back on these experiences I am amazed still at the things I got to experience at a young age.  

Not having a phone was something that in time of emergency made things hard. In times of something happening information came second and third hand and it could lead to misunderstood things. I remember when Jimmy Suttle a guy who grew up in Vredenburgh was killed by lightening while he was at college. I am not sure how word came but I remember folks visiting a couple of times during the day and the adults were very upset. They had known him apparently all of his life. 

Anybody that went on to college was looked up to by the adults. I know they were very upset as to how a young man in the prime of life could be taken so suddenly.

Another catastrophe that happened was when the train hit the school bus in Coy and the children were killed. The only word that we got that morning was that a locomotive had hit a school bus and the driver and a bunch of the kids were killed. My grandmother drove the school bus that ran from Hybart over to Beatrice. She crossed the railroad in three places. Hybart, out from Buena Vista, and Cordoroy. Who ever came and told us that morning did not know where the wreck was. I remember Aunt Minnie paced the floor and prayed and cried. As a preschooler I was clueless but knew it was bad. Therefore, it was a terrible day for hours till information got back that it was not her bus. It was bad still because there were other families who had lost their loved ones.  According to an internet search this wreck happened in March 1960.

The good memories of Hybart and spending my childhood years in that area far out weight any bad memories that I have. The good people, good times. It was just a simpler time.

Those of us who grew up in the Rural South are blessed in so many ways to have experienced the things of times gone by that were so much simpler than the mad rush of today.

Fond Memories Of Franklin Al.

Rutherford’s Store

Anybody can make a post on social media about Franklin, Al and immediately there will be dozens of others that will respond. Franklin, is a place that holds a lot of memories for a lot of people. In fact, it is amazing to me how many people from all walks of life are touched in some way by the quaint little village in North Monroe County Al. There are rich, poor, black, white, and other demographics of people that all hold fond memories of Franklin.

I was born in 1957 and from my youngest memories my father drove a truck for Franklin Gin Company, for Mr. Paul Hybart, and farmed. During the time of the year when the gin was not running, he hauled various other things beside those associated with the gin, Lumber from Vredenburgh Sawmill being one. When the gin was running, from the best of my recollection anyway, he was either hauling or at the gin helping with the running of the gin.

As a very little boy in the early 1960’s I can remember going to the gin and watching the gin work. I remember the wagons pulling in under the shed where there was this big pipe that would suction the cotton up out of the wagons. There were wagons that would be pulled by pickups to the gin. There were even some that was hauled in with mule drawn wagons also. How many and so forth I do not remember but I do remember them being there.

There would at times be a long line sitting there waiting. I remember that there were even pickup trucks that people would have side bodies on them, and they would be loaded with cotton as well. Many would be sitting in line waiting their turn to unload. I can remember us going to the gin at night even and there a line of trucks and wagons waiting. I do not know how late it ran.

One thing I remember distinctly was that many of the wagons and side bodies on the pickups had a board that stuck out the back that was securely fastened to the side. I remember being in the fields where people were picking cotton and they would use long heavy sacks. They would have this wooden board sticking out the back and it would be high enough off the ground that they would hang the scales on it and weigh the cotton as the people who picked cotton came in. The sacks were weighted, and records were kept in a ledger book. That is how the workers were paid. They were paid by the pound. I was too little to pick but I remember it like it was yesterday in many ways. 

The workers would come in and weigh up at the end of the row and get water out of a keg that had a dipper that hung beside it. Then they would go on another row. It seems like in the fields I was with them picking that, the person weighing the cotton would move to the other end of the field. By doing that once the pickers had weighted their cotton they would not have to drag as much weight to make a round trip. 

When the gin was running my father hauled cotton seed to Montgomery, I think I remember. As I stated earlier. When he was not hauling, he would be at the gin working. He was good at many skills and would be involved with the record keeping and taking samples of bales and so forth. Of course, when the seed house filled he would be hauling. On occasion I had the opportunity to watch the folks bring their cotton. Then the gin would suck it in. After that a bale would be made. Then the person would come up and get a ticket for the bale. I have seen men that could take two cotton hooks and back up to a bale and hook it and pick it up and walk off with it. A bale weighted 500 pounds. Quite a feat.

The bales were stored to the side. Then there was a black man named Tookie or something similar that would drive a big flatbed truck somewhere, Selma I think, and haul the bales. 

Tookie only had one arm. I will never forget that. He could drive a truck and do about anything anybody else could do but had only one arm. My dad always said that the only thing Tookie could not do with his one arm that anybody else could was push a loaded wheelbarrow. I know that me being a small kid he always fascinated me.

When the seed house filled at the gin, my dad would load the truck he drove which was a B61 Mack with a trailer. On several occasions I have ridden with him in the truck. Although I did not get to go to Montgomery or wherever he was taking the load, I did on many occasions get to ride back to the house. 

Our house was six miles north of the gin right on the highway. As a little kid, I was in Hog Heaven riding in that truck with my dad. To this day I can be driving North on hwy 41 and when I start off the mountain North of Franklin I can still picture in my mind my dad. I can still see him driving that two stick Mack. I can still in my mind’s eye see that left arm down through the steering wheel on one shift lever and the right hand on the other one making that shift where both levers had to be shifted. I can still hear the sound of that old Mack engine. I can still smell the smell of diesel burning and everything associated with that ride. At times it is like I am still doing it 60 years later.

At the top of the hill going north out of Franklin I remember there was a house on the right. It was a lady named Minnie Bayles. I remember our family would visit them from time to time. She had a son named Charles that was about the age of my father and my uncle. They had a telephone. In fact theirs was the closest phone to our house. They would allow my family to use the phone if they needed to make a call. Their yard was always manicured from the best I can remember. Minnie Bayles loved flowers and my grandmother did too so they always had something to talk about and cuttings to share.

I also remember that right beside Minnie Bayles driveway there was what appeared to be a small store that had long since been closed. There was a man that lived there who was named Frank. He was, from what I remember being told, from Czechoslovakia, or some country in Europe. He spoke with a very strong accent of some kind anyway. I was always fascinated by him as well. As a child I have never experienced anybody that talked different from the local people. 

I also remember going into Mr. John Rutherford’s Store. I will never forget that one either. So many things in that store. It seems like there was a ladder in there that ran on a track or something that could be pushed so that it was moved to be climbed to take stock off the shelves or put it back on. 

I remember looking upstairs from the inside and seeing caskets sitting up there. That always amazed me that they had them. I never got to go up there and examine one up-close, but I always wanted to.

One other thing about that store was there was a drink box that always had water standing in it. That was when the canned drinks had to be opened with a can opener. My dad called it “a church key”. There were also some cans about that time that had a pull top but it was the one that the whole piece pulled out.

I remember one time going to Mr. Rutherford’s store with my Grandfather House who was a pulpwooder. He stopped by the house one afternoon and picked me up and took me to get a cold drink. He and Mr. John were sitting on the porch of the store. There was an air hose on the porch. I was playing with the air hose, and it started blowing air and I could not get it to stop. He and Mr. John laughed at me and rapped it on the edge of the porch, and it stopped.

I remember also down the road from the store was a man named Ellie Deer or something like that. I can in my minds eye as they say still see him in his old Chevy pickup coming by the house going to Camden to check on his cows.

There were many, many others that I remembered. I know that some of the fondest childhood memories I have hinge around Franklin and the surrounding area. It is still a special place for me to go through and bring back memories of my childhood.

As with countless others I have come in contact with over the decades I was blessed to have the experiences of being a child associated with Franklin, Alabama.

Wilcox County Alabama

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Out this week rambling we went into Wilcox County, Alabama. We spent three nights at Miller’s Ferry Campground. Miller’s Ferry Campground is located on the Alabama River. It is on the East Bank off Highway 28. It is about 15 miles from downtown Camden. 

This was my first time to stay at that campground in probably a decade of more. Miller’s Ferry Campground is a beautiful campground that boasts approximately 66 camp spots. It has numerous sites that are handicap accessible. There is a large bathhouse located in the campground. It also has a boat ramp located inside the campground.

Again, this is a beautiful campground. The hosts are friendly and things were quiet for the three nights we were there.

It is a Corp of Engineers campground and as with most of their campgrounds we run into the Corp of Engineers needs to have somebody come in and do some serious work on things like trimming limbs over the roads to keep from damaging the tops of campers and motorhomes. and so forth but overall, it is a gem.

One of my passions is beautiful sunsets and this trip was definitely not a disappointer. The Sunsets all three evenings were stunning. As with so many beautiful things no two sunsets are identical. There is always something different about the shape of the clouds, or timing of the movement of the clouds, or a host of other different things that constitute a beautiful sunset. 

We rode into Camden and toured the town. It was definitely a positive eye-opening experience for me. I have not been into Camden in years to actually look around and I was amazed at what I found. So many small towns throughout our beautiful land are nothing more than empty decaying places. Too often, I have found small towns like Camden that have rows of empty falling down buildings. Normally they are not usable and apparently are just forgotten relics of a by gone era. They in so many cases appear to never be usable again, and in all probability the cost of cleaning them up is too great for the owners. So those buildings just sit and rot.

This definitely is not, the case with Camden. For me anyway it has a WOW factor to it. Yes there are some that could still use some touch up but even some of those look like they are in the process of having some renovation done to them. I give Camden a rating of 10 for the effort and town pride that seems to be happing there. Good job folks.

As I walked the pretty much empty streets on a Sunday afternoon, (I went on Sunday so I could photo some buildings without too many cars present) I started to reminisce. 

When I was a little kid 55 to 60 years ago Camden was one of the primary towns we went to for groceries and supplies. I remembered going into the Barber Shop. A man called Mr. Caton ran it. It was one of the first Barber Shops I ever knew of that have vacuum cleaner hoses hooked to the clippers so that you did not have hair all over you when you got a haircut. My grandfather loved it for that reason.

Then there was the building where the Ratcliff Hardware used to be. I remembered going in there and seeing all of the interesting things that they had to offer.

At the South end of the square where the Western Auto used to be, the entire end is now in use. A very wide selection of various things from furniture on is here. Beautiful clean and crowded but well kept. I saw the Old Mathews Hardware building. I remembered going in there as well. Seems like I vaguely remember some kind of elevator being in that building but I was to small to remember exactly what or how it worked. I was proud to see it filled to capacity with what appeared to be an incredible assortment of things to buy. Good job. I remembered two grocery stores there but could not place exactly where either one of them was. Apparently they were both gone and there is now a Piggly Wiggly out on the bypass. There are numerous other stores out on the bypass. Dollar Stores I saw, and a drug store or two and various other things. I mainly stayed in the downtown part though walking and looking and reminiscing. The old Jail has been refurbished. Looks so nice. The other various other buildings several of which had the placards on the front where you can call a number and listen to a recording talking about that particular place and the history of it.

We rode through various areas on the West Side of the river in Wilcox County. We did ride through communities that had businesses long gone. Catherine for instance is one. There we found some buildings that were long abandoned. There were other communities as well that have suffered because of people moving away, and economic losses, and various other things, that bring blight to our rural communities.

One neat community we went into was Gastonburg. It is located up on Highway 5. There is a display with numerous pieces of antique farm equipment sitting there that is neat to see. Seeing how I am fascinated by that sort of stuff I had to take a closer look there.

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There are also two beautiful old historic churches located there. Of course I had to check them out. I ran into an older gentleman there and we struck up a conversation. Lo and behold when we got to talking, I found out his brother had been married to my grandmother’s niece. Small world ain’t it? He had actually known one of my great uncles who I admired when I was small. That great uncle was a sawmill mechanic, and knife maker. I still have a knife that he made for me when I was about 14 years old. It is made from a saw blade with deer horn for the handle.

The two churches were the Presbyterian, and the Methodist, churches.

We rode up to Gee’s Bend. We were hoping to catch the ferry back across into Camden from that side of the river. Sadly it was out of commission because of something having to be done to the ferry. We ran by the Gee’s Bend Ferry Terminal and took a look around. Sitting out beside the parking lot is the Old Ferry Boat that ran across the Alabama River at Haynes Island, or as the locals call it Davis’s Ferry, in Monroe County for many years. I had crossed that ferry many times when it was there. 

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This ferry had been built by the State of Alabama back in the early 1960’s. It was built according to several sources at the landing and put into the water there. It was a cable ferry. It ran across the Alabama River there from Ellis’s Landing on the East side of the river to Gee’s Bend on the West Side of the river for several years.

When the Dam was constructed in the mid 1960’s the distance was too wide to run a cable ferry and it was discontinued. The ferry was then moved down to Holly’s Ferry in the vicinity of Pine Hill and was used there while construction of the paper mill was going on. When the Highway 10 bridge was completed, it was then moved down to Davis’s Ferry where it ran for many more years.

We had a great time visiting Wilcox County. It is a place rich in history and an integral part of our beautiful Southland that I definitely wish to ramble again in the not-too-distant future. I highly recommend you doing so as well.

Vredenburgh, Al

https://rumble.com/vb09l9-vredenburgh-al-drone-fly-over.html

Recent Visit to the old Sawmill town of Vredenburgh Alabama.

This is a town that holds much historical significance for Monroe County and the surrounding area.

This beautiful old town sits quietly in the very North end of Monroe County with parts of it actually being located in South Wilcox County

Here is a drone video on Vredenburgh Al.

https://youtu.be/raSKd5BQAwE

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Here is a fascinating writing on the town of Vredenburgh, It is the Legacy Magazine of the Monroe County Library of Monroeville, Al https://vredenburgh.org/vredenburgh/pages/VredenburghAlabama.pdf