Rambling the Southland and beyond.
31.105114, -85.151210
Al #29 Not listed on the National Registry
The best information I have on it is this is a 100′ tower.
It appears to me to be an International Derrick.
At the time of the last update I have on information it was still owned by the State.
According to Hunt X maps it sits on 2 acres of land owned by the State.
Henry County, Alabama
US 844, AL 23
Information in National Historic Registry states: “This 100′ Aermotor MC-39 tower with 7’x7′ cab was built by the Alabama Forestry Commission in 1960. It has been decommissioned and is now owned by Rebecca Taylor and Dr. Lindsey Roberts.”
This is my first visit to this tower.
History is an incredible thing. Many of us take it personally to know all that there is to know about those things from our past.
Up till probably a year ago I did not know that Cane Creek Methodist Church at Chance Al existed, or should I say did not remember it existed.
Now in years past I had been to that part of the world and had ridden numerous back roads in and around it. I am sure that I had at some time passed it probably just oblivious to it. I am sure that I had seen it in fact but for whatever reason it never stuck.
About that time, I ran across a distant cousin of mine on Social Media and we were talking about our relatives from the past. Her grandfather and my grandmother were brother and sister.
Knowing that I rambled backroads taking photos of old churches and such she asked me if I possibly had any photos of the Old Cane Creek Methodist Church. At that point it clicked.
My Grandmother Ruby Bradford Knight was born in that part of the world in 1908. She had told me many stories of her early childhood living in that area. Now I can’t tell you for sure that she ever mentioned Cane Creek Methodist Church, but her family apparently were Methodist or she identified as Methodist although she never went to church that I knew of.
My great-grandmother and my grandmother’s brothers and sisters left the Chance area when my grandmother was 8 years old. That would have been 1816 apparently. She never mentioned the month or season of the year that I can remember anyway. Not totally sure of the circumstances under which they left.
They were according to her version of the story traveling with an oxcart hauling their possessions that they brought with them. Their destination was Vredenburgh, Al. I have heard her recap numerous times the fact that they traveled to the ferry which apparently would have been at Lower Peachtree.
One interesting thing about the story is that they spent the night at what was known as the King Plantation Mansion. This was a large Antebellum house that stood in that area. In the 1960’s it was dismantled and moved to Uriah, Al where it stands to this date. They spent the night there at the end of their first day of travel. They then left early and crossed the ferry with the oxcart.
She never mentioned, that I remember hearing how long it took them to get to Vredenburgh. I would think that they would have had to spend one more night between the ferry and Vredenburgh but I do not know for sure.
Anyway, back to Cane Creek Methodist Church. I am sure that there is a rich history of this old church as there is for most of the ones build throughout the US in the late 1800’s. From the design of it I would venture to say it was probably built mid to late 1800’s but that is only a guess.
At the time of this writing I have not found anybody that has that history and I can only hope that possibly somebody reading this will come forward and give me that information because I would love to have it and possibly even write another blog post on it.
Like I mentioned earlier my cousin mentioned me getting a picture of it. So, I went and found it and got a few photos of it. The day I went there was logging equipment parked all around it where a logging crew was cutting timber there, so it was hard to get good shots of it but I was able to get a few.
I had been planning to make a trip back into that part of the world in the not-too-distant future to get some more pictures of it. Hopefully this time there would be nothing around to interfere with good angles.
About a week ago I saw some photos on social media of it. I was shocked. A storm had come through and it had been blown off the blocks and severely damaged. I knew then that I had to go through and get some shots of it before it was gone.
This particular morning, I got up and headed out to Chance.
I rounded the curve and saw it and it hurt me to see it. I pulled up and got my camera out and walked to various angles and took a few shots of it.
As I stood there pondering over the dilemma that was present for this old church my mind went back in time.
I started to think of all of the families and friends that had been there many years ago. I could visualize the men, women, boys, and girls coming and going. First, they would have come probably on wagons or riding horses. Possibly with Oxcarts or mules pulling them. Then I started to think, wonder when the first cars possibly came?
As I walked to a different angle I started to think about the dinners on the ground. I pictured in my mind an outdoor table with fried chicken, and vegetables, and biscuits, and cornbread. I almost giggled as I pictured a washtub with sweet tea in it and a dipper to fill the glasses.
As I walked back to the Jeep to get ready to leave, I started to focus my mind back to reality. This might be the last time I would ever see this old church. It was definitely the best condition, as bad is it was, that I would ever see it in.
Like so many others here is one more that is about to be gone forever. A place that was community. A place where fellowship occurred. Where couples met. Where they were married. Where children were dedicated. A place of refuge. A place that was once held of high prominence that was now a fast-fading memory that the future generations would not even know existed.
It was a sad day that unfortunately for myself and many others like myself I will see played out hundreds of times in the future as I see old churches like this one that are slowly but surely being reclaimed by the earth back to the ground to be remembered no more.
Anybody that knows me knows I love history and interesting stories.
As always when I get the opportunity to get out and ramble I do so. Recently I went up to the New Hope Church at Natchez.
New Hope Church
est. 1855
Now I have been to the New Hope Church many times. I have friends who have relatives buried there. It is an old historical church that I just love to visit and photograph.
New Hope church
I have walked the cemetery many times and have recounted the stories of those that I knew that are now long gone.
Over on the far end kind of alone I saw a cross shaped marker standing alone. I immediately remembered what it was. It is the grave of The Bear Man.
Now understand something, at the writing of this I am 66 years old and I have heard the story of the Bear Man all of my life. I have heard it told different ways. Normally because it was told by different people just like I am sure that my version differs from others who tell it.
As I was reflecting on what I remembered, and I discussed it with my uncle Rickey House in Beatrice who is a walking history book. I also looked in the Centennial Edition of the Monroe Journal. I found a brief encounter of the story in the 1969 edition.
I knew the name of the bear but not the other names mentioned in the Centennial.
The names I will mention are from the Centennial. The rest of the story is pretty much as I remembered it from numerous others, I have heard tell it.
It is a unique story that in all probability no other communities in the entire US could duplicate.
As I have said earlier, I have heard several different renditions of this story. After reading the account in the Centennial I was able to see where the different versions might have come from.
For some reason in some accounts Buena Vista always comes up. In fact I have run into people over the years that would try to figure out where at Buena Vista the grave was. On more than one occasion I have heard that he was buried at Buena Vista.
Anyway here is what I was able to come up with on this story.
All accounts I have heard that identified the man in any way would say he was a Frenchman. Apparently, this man came into Buena Vista leading his bear. The Teacher one Professor Claude Hardy paid him to have the bear perform for the school children at Buena Vista. He would take a little boy’s hat and put it on the bear’s head, and he would stand on his hind legs and walk around and dance. Then after that he would have him climb a tree.
Upon leaving Buena Vista he proceeded on to Natchez with the bear.
Now from here once again variations come in. According to some sources he was performing for children there. From others no mention is made of performing there.
Regardless of that fact at Natchez the bear attacked the Frenchman. Some sources say that somebody was killing hogs and the smell of the blood upset the bear and he started towards the smell and when the Frenchman tried to restrain him, he attacked. Others I have heard say he was performing for children at the school at Natchez. I am not sure and probably nobody else is totally sure now.
The Centennial says that he threw him to the ground and was literally trying to eat him alive. That leads me to believe that something like the smell of fresh blood might have been involved.
Numerous different sources say that he was screaming the bears name calling him “Jimbo” and begging him to stop. More than one says that you could hear him screaming for a distance the words Jimbo, stop, please stop.
It is not clear exactly when but according to the Centennial after the bear killed the Frenchman, a local man named Jim Reeves killed the bear with his rifle.
Again, I have heard discrepancies in the story on this part but some sources say that the locals buried the man and the bear in the cemetery. Other sources I have heard said just the man and did not mention the bear.
Since nobody knew the man’s name they just always called him The Bear Man.
Now I do not know with 100 percent certainty what nor who is buried in the cemetery where the cross marker is. I however do know that there is a marker in the cemetery with the name The Bear Man on it and all sources I know of today agree that this is where he is buried.
The article in the Centennial puts it as happening in 1891 or 92. I have always heard it said as some time before 1900 or in the 1890’s.
As I said at the beginning this is a story that I remember hearing told from childhood. Some of the people I have heard tell it would have been born in the early 1900’s so the story was not that many decades old from when they heard it however, I am not sure if they heard if directly from somebody that was a witness.
One thing for sure it indeed had to have happened and that is a pretty close rendition of how it did happen.
Thanks for reading. Jackson
A few weeks ago a good friend of mine messaged me and asked me if I would be interested in doing an over night kayak trip.
Now understand something up front.
Kayaking has been something that I wanted to do for years. I. had been watching these guys and gals having the times of their lives floating. I always had a reason not to buy a kayak and go. One of the main reasons was that I weighted too much to be comfortable in one. About a year ago I told my wife that I was going to lose some weight and get a kayak and that is what I did. I set out in earnest to lose weight in late September of 2022. I bought a kayak used in November. I had taken it to the lake and tried it out and made a trip in late December with a close friend. Then earlier this year I had made a couple more trips.
I had been an avid camper years ago. Over the years I had not camped primitive much and then it got to never doing it. I had gotten to the point that my equipment had either gotten in such bad shape that I had either gotten rid of it or thrown it away.
I bought more equipment over the past few months and a few weeks ago I actually went on an overnight at a local campground just to make sure I had what I needed, and it was going to work.
With all of that said, when I got the message, wild horses could not have stopped me from going. I was as excited as a fat kid in a Candy Store. I could not wait.
I went out the day before and made sure that I had everything packed I would need and loaded it on my kayak a couple of times to just make sure that it fit properly.
The morning finally came around. David my friend messaged me and said that we could ride together, and he would pick me up about 6:45 AM. I was awake by 4:30. When he got to my house, we loaded it up and we were off.
We made our way across US 84 to the Bellville Community and then down to the Castleberry. It was a clear beautiful morning, not cold and not hot. Just right in every way. We saw cattle and even a large coyote in the fields and pastures along the way.
We got there and soon others were getting there. When everybody finally got there the guys loaded up and took the vehicles to the takeout point and then had a ride back to where the boats were.
There was a total of nine of us. Me my friend David and a couple I knew from social media. I was later to find out that all were some really, great guys.
We set out mid-morning and traveled for a couple of hours or more and found a large sandbar and stopped and set up camp.
Then for the remainder of the afternoon we just hung out and rested and visited and had an incredible time doing nothing. Just a laid-back time to unwind and get acquainted with new friends. I met some guys that by the time we parted ways made me feel like I had known them a lifetime. We sat in the shade for a while and then set up camp. Then we took chairs out and sat in the cold creek water cooling off. Finally, we got out and ate and then sat by the “Cave Man TV”. (Campfire). It was just a great time.
It was a colder than normal night and although not unbearable it did get chilly or for me it did anyway.
Up the next morning and another pot of that awesome percolated coffee on the creek bank that was as good as it gets. Personally, I do not think coffee gets any better than when it is made in a percolator on a propane stove on the creek or riverbank.
Another time of visiting and then four of us set out to finish. The other five had decided that they were going to wait another day and then come down.
We traveled the remaining distance in a few hours without incidence and loaded up and took one detour and went to Brewton and had an incredible milkshake and then went home.
Looking back on this trip I know I am hooked. I literally can’t wait for the next trip. Great times, great friends. I met some guys that I have no doubt I will see again and paddle with again.
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.
I am forever amazed at what can be found as one takes time to get out and ramble across this beautiful land in which we live. It seems that at every turn and down every dim road there is one more thing uncovered that was only known to exist by at the most a small handful of people.
It seems that when we happen on some nugget of information or find one rare thing that it opens up a total world of information on that particular thing or even many more. For those of us who continually ramble, look, and investigate it becomes addicting. The urge sometimes gets almost over whelming to go look see find and investigate.
Of course then there is the fact that once you find you must photograph it and then from time to time you must revisit that same thing again in the future. Possibly more than once we go back. Always wondering how has it fared this long. Possibly wondering how long it will be there before nature reclaims it totally.
Recently I found out about a place called Caledonia, Al. Now at this time I won’t go into any history on this place because I feel that there is too much to contain in this writing. However, I do want to share some insights to my visit there. Primarily I want to share about something that I had heard of but never witnessed in my life. In fact I it is something that to be honest I heard about a good while back but for some reason it was one of those things that I just filed in my memory but never took time to do anything with it.
What I am talking about I found in Bear Creek Cemetery. Bear Creek Cemetery is found down a narrow road in Southern Wilcox County. It is about halfway between Oak Hill and McWilliams just off the east side of Al Hwy. 21.
Although I had traveled that road hundreds of times in my life I had absolutely no clue that it existed. One of those things that you pass by so often but for whatever reason never take time to notice nor appreciate.
Because of the fact that I am very interested in history I am often invited to join social media groups that discuss things of historical significance. That is how I stumbled upon this gem. I was invited to join the social media group called Bear Creek Historical and Preservation Society. After seeing this group I found out about this old church and another one that is abandoned between this one and the state highway. Immediately upon the discovery of this one I knew I had to take a look see.
It was well on over in the day when we set out to visit this site. I had not been to this area rambling in quite some time and I did not have any pictures of it. With the directions I found on the group page I knew exactly where to look to find it. Of course, I had to visit some stuff before I got there but eventually we made it in to the church.
Once we got to the church, I immediately took some photos of the church. Although I focus primarily on the old churches when I go to these places. I seldom ramble through the cemeteries themselves because of the fact that I am not as focused on the cemeteries as the churches and communities themselves.
Many times I walk to the fence of a cemetery and just take a few photos of the cemetery as a whole and leave. Today as I walked to the fence and started to look I saw it. Never before in real life did, I remember ever seeing one. There off to my right and down the fence was what first appeared to me to be a shed out in the cemetery. Now to be perfectly honest at first I thought it was a storage shed or something. It did not even register in my mind that it was actually a covering over graves.
It was at that moment it hit me. Wait a minute, I had heard of these before. I had seen pictures of some somewhere before actually but for whatever reason as I said above it was just info that I got but never focused on. Actually there was not just that one but there were two of the I the cemetery.
Now all of a sudden my attention was drawn to them. I had to get closer and get a photo of them and of course find out more.
Immediately I found out that they were called Grave Houses, or Grave Shelters. Quoting this shared by Martha Grimes Lampkin: In its Guide to Common Alabama Grave Markers, the Alabama Historical Commission defines a grave shelter as “a wood structure placed over an in-ground burial, usually with a gable roof and sides made of vertical pickets or boards. Some have boards with decorative jig work and a few are constructed with doors and windows to resemble houses. Grave shelters were common in some areas of the South and are generally associated with Native Americans and groups of Scotch-Irish ancestry.”
The purpose of these grave houses is not necessarily given as I guess they could serve numerous purposes. First of all in the 1800’s people were not buried in vaults. They were only buried either wrapped in some sort of fabric or just in their clothes, or in a wooden box that some friend, neighbor, or family member made for them. Therefore, quite possibly they served to protect the grave from the weather. Secondly, they served as a means to shade the grave in the hot summer days when family members or other visitors came to visit the graves. I am sure that there were probably other reasons for them as well.
Many of the ones in Alabama have fallen in from decay and nature has reclaimed them. There are estimated by some to be the oldest in Alabama still standing was estimated to be built in 1853. There are supposedly about 40 of them documented to be still standing in Alabama at this time. No one knows how many there have been built.
I have been told that there is another one standing in the Hopewell Cemetery a few miles up the road from this one and I have been told of another one that I have not been able to confirm.
This is just one more of the rare wonders of the past that is still standing out there in this great and beautiful Southland that we love to wander through. One only can imagine what else there is out there that is left to explore. The rare unknown that is right there under ones nose that many times we have passed right by without noticing or even knowing. I can only imagine what the next adventure holds and I can’t wait.
This is one thing that I never expected to find on this visit. I hope that there are others that see them and enjoy them just as we found them and were able to enjoy them for many years to come.
Anybody that knows me knows that something like a paddle wheel steamboat just sitting out in the open would be something that I would not be able to pass up. I mean it would be like putting cheese or peanut butter out in front of my dog. Irrreeeessstablle.
I discovered it a while back. I knew that it was there. I knew I had to see it.
There are numerous sources online that speak of it and the service it rendered. A simple search of the name will bring them up. One of the better sources I found on it was samsace.army.mil.
According to this site and various others it was one of the hardest working snag boats in the Southeast. It was built in 1926 at the Charleston Dry Dock and Machine Company. It was based in Montgomery till 1933. Then it moved to Tuscaloosa.
It worked the waters of the Coosa, Black Warrior and Tombigbee Rivers. The Montgomery pulled snags from these rivers until 1959. At that time she was transferred to Panama City, Florida. The Montgomery worked on the Apalachicola, Chattahoochee, and the Flint rivers starting in 1959 and continued to do so for 20 more years. Montgomery again transferred home port from Panama City to White City Florida in 1979.
The Sternwheeler has two boilers on the main deck underneath the main wheelhouse that sits high above everything for visibility. The hull is riveted steel with wooden superstructure. The Montgomery is 178 feet long and 34 feet wide. It has a 6 foot hull depth.
There are a total of three deck levels. The machinery of the snagging operation as well as the crew quarters and engine room are all located on the main deck. Located on the second deck is the galley, the officers’ quarters, and the office. As I stated earlier the pilot house is located on the top where the controls for the snagging and the control of the boat itself are located.
According to the information given the original boilers are still on the boat. It initially operated on coal and after WWII it was switched over to operate on diesel fuel.
From the best information I could decipher on the boat it contained a crew of 10 to 14 people. The crew included officers, cooks, and deck hands.
The officers included:
The Master, which was from my observation another name for captain. He was responsible for all of the operations and crew. His duties were to make sure that the work was accomplished but also to train the crew to operate efficiently and safely.
The Chief Engineer, was the second in command. He was responsible for all of the maintenance and repair of the entire snag boat. His main concern was the steam engines and the equipment used for day to day operation. Several men served in this position during the 56 years of operation.
The Assistant Engineer, he helped repair and maintain all of the equipment onboard and served in the capacity of Chief when the Chief was away. Often the Assistant Engineer would move up to the position of Chief Engineer when the Chief retired or moved away.
The Pilot, served to steer the snag boat as it moved about on the rivers. A Pilot had to have at least 5 years experience before he was licensed to be a Pilot.
The Operator, served to operate the machinery that worked the hoist, grapple, and so forth. He also operated from the Pilot House where he had visibility of all that was going on during the dangers and at times very tedious operation of removing snags.
Finally there were cooks and deckhands. I found no information as to how many cooks there were nor how many deck hands that were onboard at the time either.
In the early days of operation the only communication from the Pilot House to the Engine Room was the onboard telegraph which was used for communication.
Viewing this magnificent piece of history gives me goose bumps just thinking about what it would have been like to live and work on this boat. In the heyday of the operation of this great boat it was a cutting-edge technology. It was a thing of beauty that was of magnificent power. One can only imagine the skills involved to operate the hoists and to pilot the boat itself.
Because of my interest in machinery and, working in a powerhouse, this gave me a sense of awe. I would have loved to be able to see it work and know exactly how it worked. I would only imagine the heat and sweat of those working to keep things running. From the site I listed above I read that there would be a barge tied alongside the Montgomery. It would work its way along pulling the snags out and dropping them on the barge. When it was loaded a tug would come along and move the barge out of the way and leave an empty barge for the Montgomery to continue its work.
One source also said that the crane could be fitted with a grapple that could be used to fish things from the bottom and load them on the barge as well.
I am so thankful that this once modern marvel did not meet its demise and end up in the scrap yard. As it sits now on dry dock however it is once again in need of some restoration as I understand that there are some rotting places in the floors in several places that have caused it to be closed to the public. Hopefully this will take place in the not too distant future so that everybody that chooses to can experience this piece of history once again.
Many times in life we wake up in the morning with something on our minds and for whatever reason that thought just does not go away. On this particular morning that was me, and the thought was of all things the Bull Slough bridge in Conecuh County.
Now I had never been to that bridge that I remembered any way. I had heard of it however for years, and I had seen numerous pictures of it. I know that many people talked about putting canoes and kayaks in there and it is popular with many people for that reason.
I had recently visited another bridge upstream from this one a while back called Cohassett bridge that has been long ago abandoned. Unfortunately, on that visit it was a rainy day and I was not able to send a drone up and get any photos with it and only a few pictures with my camera and they were not great.
On this morning after having my coffee I announced to my wife my intentions for the day and she said she would as she many times does ride with me.
We had actually been to Brooklyn a couple of months back on one of our rambling sessions but that day I did not have the Sepulga River on my mind. Today however that was pretty much all that was on my mind.
I then messaged a friend of mine that I knew kayaked that river and told him I was going. His immediate response was that low water level and blue skies should be a great day for a visit. He also recommended that I also visit the landing at Bottle Creek landing as well which is down river from it.
With that encouragement we loaded the location in the GPS and pulled out heading that way. We went across US 84 to Repton and south on Al 41 to Conecuh County Road 6 and headed on across US 31 at Castleberry and then on down that way to Brooklyn. At Brooklyn we turned left on Co. Rd 43 and then right on Co. Rd. 43 and proceeded up to Bull Slough Road. Bull Slough Road is a narrow winding paved road that brings one to this magnificent old bridge that crosses the Sepulga River.
We met one log truck on the way in and there were several loaded log trailers sitting out to the side close to the bridge. While we were there several vehicles crossed. It has a 3 ton weight limit on it so no log trucks are able to cross.
According to Bridge finder.com and other sources Bull Slough bridge was built in 1924 and rehabilitated in 1970. Bridge Finder calls it a Warren Through Truss design. Other sources call it a Pony Truss design. Regardless of the true name of the design it is an interesting truss bridge. For all I know that might be two different names for the same design.
All sources I found said that it was 252 feet long and the longest span was 152.9 ft. All sources I found said it is 14 ft. Wide. It is definitely a one lane bridge for sure.
We drove down the side road to the landing and observed the bridge from the river level and then went back up and parked at the west end and started photographing it and then sent the drone up and got some awesome shots of this beautiful old bridge.
As always I am fascinated with anything that is historical and for me anyway this old bridge did not disappoint. It is 98 years old. That is for me anyway incredible. Yes, it looks primitive. Yes, it is in the middle of nowhere. I stood however and pictured in my mind to start off with probably few cars were in that part of the world in that era in time. Probably for years there were many more horses and mules either ridden across or pulling carts, wagons, or buggies than there were cars. Then as years passed the numbers of cars and trucks would have started to increase and the numbers of horses and mules and wagons would have decreased. I pondered on when the wagons and mules and horses had trickled to a stop to only be used by motor driven vehicles.
So many questions, so many things to just ponder on. Then I wondered how long had it been since a horse or mule drawn vehicle had crossed. That led to wondering how many cars crossed it a day period now. Obviously, it is a well-traveled road even though it is narrow and winding and relatively rough. I know during the time we were visiting and looking there were several that crossed today.
I can only imagine that when this bridge was built it was a wonder to behold and a spectacle that folks came for miles to see. It would have opened up a lot of opportunities to cross into Brooklyn for those who lived across the river. Although times were hard in the 1920’s it would have presented opportunity for folks to travel to and fro and made live easier for many.
This section of the Sepulga is a beautiful wild little river that would definitely be a place that would be interesting to many people. I highly recommend a visit to the river if you like to canoe or kayak. If you are a history nut like me I highly recommend you visit the bridge and get a look and possibly a few photos of history.
It was a beautiful laid-back day in Eastern Conecuh County, Alabama. We are a blessed people to be able to enjoy the beauty of this great land.
The more I wander and look at the things of our great Southland the more I realize that there are numerous different people out there that are historians on many things. Some know about and continually search for information on things like churches. For others it might be just a certain community, county, or region. The list goes on and on as to things that people know love and continually dig to find out more about.
One particular segment that rings a cord with many is railroads. For some it is railroads in general. For others it is a particular railroad line or even a particular line of a certain railroad.
For many the rich history of the L&N Railroad seems to bring out some incredible facts and memories. One such line is the L&N Line that ran from Flomation, Alabama to Selma, Alabama.
Being born in the late 1950’s and having relatives in, and spending much time at Beatrice, Al. I formed a lot of interest in the L&N Railroad myself.
I remember so many times the train coming through and us watching it. One of the highlights of that was going down to the tunnel at Tunnel Springs on Sunday afternoons when the train was going south and watching it go through the tunnel.
One interesting aspect of this railroad as I look back today is the fact that there were three long spurs off of this railroad in our area. To our north there was a spur from the area of Nadawah that went all the way into Camden. Then further southward on the line was the spur that ran from Cordoroy over to Vredenburgh. Finally further southward was the spur that ran from Monroe Station into Monroeville. There might have been other shorter spurs as well but if there are I have not seen them nor been able to find them on a map.
I purposely listed them from north to south because the southernmost spur is the one I wanted to discuss in this posting.
The spur from Monroe Station into Monroeville was an interesting spur to me anyway, for numerous reasons. In the early 1970’s we had a pasture at Monroe Station it was leased from Mr. Fred Sheffield. As a young teenager, my friend and I walked down that spur on numerous occasions to get to the pasture. The track switched right at the gate to our pasture.
If memory serves me correctly there were two sidings there or more. There was also two different switches on the railroad so that the train could switch in from either direction. By doing that the train could also switch in from one direction, pull past where the two tracks joined to make one. Then the switch could be thrown and it could back out onto the main line from the opposite side and be turned around on the mainline.
That was an interesting aspect of this spur to me. The spur at Cordoroy did the same thing and the one at Nadawah did also. From my understanding it had to be done that way to be serviceable by both north and south bound trains.
Once leaving the mainline at Monroe Station the train passed shortly over an overpass that crossed over the dirt road that led from Drewery Road to Monroe Station. That over pass stands to this date. It is a very small opening through which the road passes. It is a tight squeeze for about anything bigger than a small truck. This road was later named Hornady Drive when the 911 address system was implemented. There is an intersection in that road actually adjoining the road where this overpass crosses and the road under the overpass is named Deer Creek Road.
For many years it appears that there was nothing but woods and farmland that it traversed through from the main line until it got into Monroeville. In the early 1970’s Harrigan Lumber Company built a large sawmill that was on the railroad a little over halfway from the main line to Monroeville. Prior to this sawmill there was a saw mill out on Drewery Road in Monroeville. The railroad served that mill with a siding. That mill was closed in the mid to late 1960’s from the best understanding I can attain.
There was a siding that split off of the spur at Harrigan lumber and the railroad crossed what is now Hornady Drive just below the Harrigan Property and traveled a short distance parallel to that road and then crossed that road again where George Preyear Road intersects with it and paralleled it for a distance.
There was a siding that split off and went into the woodyard owned by Container Corp. There pulp wood trucks brought in short pulpwood and it was unloaded and stacked and then reloaded on to rail cars to be shipped to a paper mill south of Monroeville.
The spur line crossed Drewery Road just to the north of this woodyard and proceeded on towards town. It made a long arching circle on towards the location of the old Monroeville Stockyard. This stockyard closed sometime in the 1960’s as well.
The Highway 21 bypass was built around 1968. The railroad crossed it a short distance south of where Drewery Road crossed the bypass. There was a long siding or you might call it a short spur off that spurline that actually went in to the back side of the Arvin Industries factory that is now a business incubator building where businesses rent and do startups in to get established. There is also a truck driving school located there. The main spur crossed Drewery Rd again close to where the present Walker Street connects with Drewery Road and proceeded right behind the row of houses that sits along Drewery Road on one’s right heading in towards town.
It then crossed Ivey Street where the Monroeville Gin was located. Then crossing Hines Street. There were numerous places through this area along the railroad that could utilize it. The railroad crossed East Claiborne Street where the present Fire Station and Monroeville City Hall is located.
Finally it ended in the alley behind where Barnett and Jackson Hardware was located.
The Mainline L&N Railroad was built in 1900. This spur appears to have been built at the same time. It served till the mid 1960’s all the way into town. After that it slowly started to fade away as the track was removed into town in short increments. When the wood yard on Drewery Road closed that was one of the final businesses bringing it in as far as Drewery Road. It served Harrigan Lumber for several years longer.
The track is still laid for quite some distance up. The bushes and other undergrowth is now head high in many places where the tracks are still in place at. I am sure that it is only a matter of time before it is all removed and there will be little to any remnants of anything left reminding those looking of the existence of this spur.
The closing of the particle board mill long known as the Temple Mill was the final nail in the coffin for the L&N Line. It had held on as track was taken up north from Beatrice and then southward to Tunnel Springs.
Monroeville suffered a great loss by losing this railroad and the spur in when it was shut down. Although it was not being utilized it still held the potential for rail service should it be needed.
One thought I always had was why there never was a spur in from the Frisco Railroad that passed just a little to the west of Monroeville. In fact the Frisco passed closer than the L&N to town and was a mainline railroad as well.
For over half a century the L&N Spur served Monroeville bringing in goods and taking products out. Like so many other small towns in the US. that once flourished Monroeville slowly changed course and finally started to dwindle in need for rail service as truck freight service increased. This closed this romantic time of rail service for what appears to be forever.
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.
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.
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.
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.
September is here and finally this long hot summer is winding down. We have seen some interesting things this year and are still looking forward to seeing more. There are a gazillion things out there to see, do and write about.
For the last year most of the travels I have had the opportunity to take were confined to the areas in and around Monroe County Al. and the counties surrounding it.
It was a welcome relief to me anyways to get to travel a further distance from home and ramble in different territories than I am familiar with.
We had been in the area of Pickensville Al. recently but basically made a flying trip through with very little time to ramble. On this trip we parked the motor home in the Pickensville Campground and were able to so some rambling.
We had seen the Tom Bevill Welcome center before from the outside but did not have time to visit. Today was a different story. It was just too inviting to pass up.
We arrived a few minutes before opening time and so we rode down the road and walked the steps down to the river below the lock and dam. Then after exploring some of the area there we went back up to the Welcome Center. As we were driving up we saw the attendant opening the gate and we were the first people in for the day.
The attendant was a very cordial and knowledgeable lady who gave us the tour. She explained to us that the Tom Bevill Welcome Center was named after a U.S. Congressman who represented Alabama from 1967 till 1997 and was very much instrumental in the legislation that helped pave the way for the constructing of the Tennessee Tombigbee Waterway.
The building appears to be an Antebellum Home. In essence we found out that it is actually a replica that was built in 1985. The building was built to depict the period of time between the 1830’s to the 1860’s.
Those who designed the building took ideas from three different mansions. There are actually pictures of all three hanging on the wall in the main living room as you walk into the center. They were the Kirkwood that is in Eutaw, Al which still stands about 40 miles south. The Waverly Mansion is the second and it stands in Columbus Mississippi about 30 miles North. The third is the Rosemont that is located in Green County, Al. about 53 miles south.
The cupola on top was inspired by the Kirkwood. The balcony on the front was inspired by the Waverly. The window design and the columns on the front were inspired by the Rosemont.
The foyer, main stairs and the lobby all have reproduction gas light chandeliers. Common to those fixtures was a cloth sleeve that covered the gas supply lines that supplied them. It was interesting to note that gas was used for lighting before electricity was available.
In one corner in the back of the main room stands a Grandfather clock. The clock still works but is not kept wound. This clock has a hand painted face that has seashell designs on it. The clock is an 1835 English antique. The case of the clock is made from a combination of mahogany and English oak.
There are various other pieces of antique furniture and mirrors scattered throughout the house. One of the mirrors that was intriguing to me was a mirror called Girandole mirror, or chaperone mirror. The reason it was called a chaperone mirror is it is of a convex type that makes the entire room visible in form one vantage point. I thought that was a very interesting mirror indeed.
The beautiful marble floors were made from black and white squares. The Black squares were imported from Europe and the white squares were from northern Alabama.
The landings of all of the stairways are heart pine that was salvaged from an 1830’s plantation house located near Uniontown, Al. The wood on the steps is also heart pine that was salvaged from other sources.
One interesting thig that I learned about these old mansions was that since there was no air conditioning the large open stair cases served a purpose other than just giving the ability to go from one floor to the next or serving as decoration. By opening the doors on the cupola on top and the front entrance doors the air would travel through the house up through the stairwells and create air movement that helped cool the entire house.
This is definitely a beautiful place to visit and the grounds are beautiful as well. One sad thing is that the cupola area is now inaccessible because of the fact that there is a safety issue. There are other places that need attention as well. Sadly like so many places that the U. S. Government owns and maintains funding has been held up to keep them properly maintained.
I highly recommend that anybody that has the opportunity to visit this beautiful place come in and visit and learn. It is definitely a view of our beautiful historic southland.
I have talked to several people who like myself are always digging for things associated with the history of our great land. One thing that I have heard over and over again stated is the phrase, ”I have passed that one a thousand times but never thought about the history of it.” It is like they are hiding in plain sight.
One of those things for me is the Oak Grove Baptist Church outside of Frisco City, Al. Possibly because the church we look at today for many is a more modern beautiful building so therefore it doesn’t cross your mind to ask questions as to the age of the church nor the history of how it got to that point.
I was talking to my Brother-in-law one night and talking about churches and the age and history of some. He attends Oak Grove and he started telling me about it. He then stated I can get you the history of this one and he did. I was furnished this information by Mrs. Mary Ida Barnes. Once I started reading I was amazed.
She sent me a copy of a history that was written by Mrs. Lewis Blanton to read and get information from. In this story I will quote excerpts of information from this writing.
All old pictures furnished by Mrs. Mary Ida Barnes.
All credit of this historical information I give to Mrs. Lewis Blanton.
The Beckbe Baptist Association had been organized in 1816 and included several south-western counties of Alabama, including Monroe County. This, the first and oldest association in Alabama was later renamed the Bethlehem Baptist Association and continues to be strong, active, and respected today.
As the Southwestern portion of Monroe County began to grow, a need arose for a missionary Baptist church.
A concerned group of Baptists decided to establish a church in the fast-developing community. John Wesley Broughton, a planter who had been a postmaster in Tekoa for several years, donated land for a missionary Baptist church a short distance from Tekoa. The original members of the newly named Oak Grove Baptist Church, so named because of the large, aged oak trees in the vicinity, met in a house on the site of the donated Broughton property. The first service was guided by Rev. J.L. Eddins and Rev. Sam Jones.
The church began to grow as the county began enjoying a semblance of prosperity after the War. As it grew, it fulfilled a great need for Tekoa and the surrounding areas of the county. Two years after the founding of the church, Monroe County suffered a severe winter, and new records were set as the ground was covered with six inches of snow. It would appear that the church had chosen a fairly prosperous time for its inception, for in 1888 for the first time in nearly a quarter of a century, Monroe County was finally out of debt.
Not long after the church was established, a visitor came to the house. The man (legend has it that he was a colored man) wandered into the house and stayed there. This occurrence would have been a minor one except that this now infamous visitor was a victim of smallpox. The man died in the “house” as the disease claimed him, and in a desperate effort to curtail the spreading of the disease, the members of the church burned the building.
The congregation erected a new building on the site cross from the present-day parsonage. This second building would be used until 1908.
During the early years of the church, the new converts were baptized in a pool between the Blanton and Broughton places, behind the area of the first church building. Then the church began using a pool near the old Alec Norris place, which was towards Jones Mill. Soon afterward, the church began baptizing in a pool behind Mr. Bill Sawyer’s place. Here Oak Grove built pool houses which served as dressing rooms. The church maintained this area for baptisms until the pool was placed inside the sanctuary.
Oak Grove came to the assistance of Howard College in 1869 when he Alabama Baptist Convention was in much need of funds to relieve the debt of he college. The college had founded in 1841 as an institution for men and would later become the co-educational Samford University.
1897 was to be a particularly productive year or Oak Grove. The church sent its pastor J.W. Riffe, as a delegate to the Alabama Baptist Convention. 1897marked the first year of a Sunday School at Oak Grove (according to the Associational minutes). Under the leadership of Mr. Lorenzo Wiggins, the Sunday School Superintendent, the Sunday School that year was the second largest in the Association, second only to the First Baptist Church of Monroeville.
In an attempt to improve the church, a committee was designated on October 14, in order that the spiritual condition of the church might be examined. This committee was intended to insure that the church as growing in a spiritual sense. The members were obviously concerned with the spiritual needs of the church body.
Not until 1902 was Oak Grove to house the annual meeting of the Bethlehem Baptist Association. IN that year the Association was 86 years old, and the meeting was held in the second church building of Oak Grove. Both the third and fourth “houses” would host the Associational meetings on several occasions.
W.N. Huckabee of Pineville came to the church in 1903. This gentleman served as pastor for eighteen years, until 1921, excepting only a brief interval in 1909 when L.C. Dewitte served in that position.
The second church building began to fall in disrepair after the turn of the century. In 1908 the members decided that the church was not safe and that is must be substantially repaired or a new building should be erected. After a generous grant of land by Mr. W.M. Lane, the members decided to build a new “house”. On this site, the site of the present building, the new “house” was built. During the period of construction the church members met in the Tekoa schoolhouse. The new sanctuary was embellished by oil lamps with beautiful floral shades. Once the new church-affectionately in recent years referred to as the “old church” – was built, it quickly became an integral meeting place for the community. The building was designated as a voting area, md the church itself was used until the voting house was built. On July 19,1910 the church granted permission to the County Farmers Union to meet in the church building.
In 1911 the South was still suffering from the 1907 Panic. Monroe County was in need for as Christ promised, “the poor were still with us”. Oak Grove established a committee to see to the needs of the poor. After its inception, the committee valiantly and unendingly saw to the ever-pressing needs of the poor. The congregation labored unceasingly giving to those who were less fortunate.
With the coming of World War 1, the church, like the nation, knew the tragedy of war. The lives of many sons of the county were claimed as husbands, sons, fathers’ brothers and beaux risked their lives to protect their home and country. So many paid for this protection with their lives. Certainly the long war was ever present o the minds of the members of the church. Even though countians had purchased numerous war bonds, they could not and would not neglect the spiritual needs of the soldiers. On May 12, 1918 an offering was taken after services “for the purpose of helping preach the gospel among our soldier boys”. The church called W.N. Huckabee to serve as pastor on November 10, 1918 – only hours before the Armistice.
With peace declared God blessed America with a new prosperity. Oak Grove must also have been enjoying prosperity of the 1920’s for in 1924 a committee was appointed for the purpose of buying the pastor, Rev. W.A. Davis, an automobile. AS well, the organ which had been a part of the church for decades was sold and a new piano was purchased in 1927.
Two years after the purchase of the piano, the stock market on Wall Street crashed. This event at first may have had little effect on Monroe County but this occurrence developed into the Great Depression. The church, although hard pressed for funds, survived. The effort which had been extended toward the poor and needy continued even though many members of the congregation themselves suffered privation. Money became even more scarce, and the pastor was frequently paid in flour, chickens, and most especially in gallons and gallons of cane syrup. Tithes were also taken in this manner. Between 1931 and 1932 100 pounds of hay were collected as an offering.
The spirit which had sustained the church through hard times, wars and prosperous times was severely tried. But the brave and stout-hearted members refused to allow deprivation to defeat them. The aged proverb concerning “stepping out on faith” was proven true time and time again. With a never-failing faith in God and he determination of everyone to do his part- to do what had to be done- the church persisted. These fine efforts did not go unrewarded for in 1936, I the middle of the Great Depression, the church raised $171.62 selling ice cream at a nickel a serving. In addition, the church acquired electric lights which were operated by a generator long before the transmission lines were erected. Here was a strong evidence that the membership had faith several times the size of a mustard seed.
When the decade of the 1930’s passed, with it passed the marking of the 50th anniversary of the Oak Grove Baptist Church in 1933. The years had gently passed Oak Grove. The church provided a semblance of security as the grandchildren of charter members began to accept responsibility within the church. The flame had been tossed and blown, but nothing would snuff it out.
The peace which had brought balm to a troubled land was sharply destroyed that Sunday morning when the Japanese bombe Pearl Harbor. Once again the members of the church were to sacrifice for the war effort. Men of the church and relatives went to fight at faraway places such as the shores of Normandy and the isle of Iwo Jima.
Many of these men would never return. Some of these families would again see their men fight valiantly in Korea and Viet Nam- some of our heroes returning, others to be only memories in the coming years. In all of these conflicts the support of the church was constant Daily prayers ascended to heaven.
Once more Oak Grove was to rind itself in peace time and mew matters of concern were pressing. The members recognized the need for a parsonage. In 1954 Mr. Fred Broughton, grandson of John Wesley Broughton, generously gave the church and acre of land for a new pastorium. The site was to be practically the same site as that of the first church building. It was completed and paid for in le than a year. The years 1954-1955 marked some of the greatest progress in the church’s history. There were 86 additions to the church, 46 by baptism. The Sunday School enrollment climbed from 78 to 189 and the Training Union enrollment climbed from 51 to 136.This growth was accomplished under the leadership of Rev. W.Q. Howe. Oak Grove rendered assistance to the Indian Mission in 1957, a time when many had forgotten the struggling Indians of Alabama.
In the summer of 1958, the church after a considerable effort which included the buying of bonds had a new sanctuary. The sanctuary had been built after the completion of he educational building. A dedication ceremony complete with the laying of a cornerstone, marked the event. The gleaming white walls were replaced by a new look of solid, stately red brick, crowned with an inspiring steeple which lifts eyes upwards toward heaven. The “old church” was gone, but the new building with its modern appearance promised a new, progressive era. It conveyed to the county a message- the message that although Oak Grove Baptist Church displays a reverence for its cherished heritage, its chief concern lay in serving the Lord today and in the future. The “new church” made a statement that the church would not remain stagnant while the country changed, but would meet the needs of a fast changing society.
For over 120 years the members of the church has displayed a constant devotion to our Lord, our Southern Baptist beliefs and our county. No adversity—not war, depression or apathy—has snuffed the flame which burned so brightly in 1883. May Oak Grove’s light always shine brightly for the Lord.
One only knows of the greatness of our historical churches today if he or she is willing to research what great things they have done or what hard times and sufferings that they have endured and still came through to endure.
Traveling through our beautiful Southlands there are so many sights to behold and so many things to learn. At every crook in the road there is history. Sadly, so much of it is fading away. While traveling through the dirt roads of Eastern Monroe County one encounters a road called Puryearville Road. Following that road there is a cemetery.
Over the years I have traveled that road numerous times. As I and other friends who research and ask questions have stated many times, we pass these things but really do not know much about them.
On a recent trip through I started to ponder on this cemetery and the history of it.
Immediately I wanted to know more. So, I started to ask questions and seek out the rest of the story. That is where it got interesting.
Little did I know that this well kept beautiful cemetery way back on a red dirt road held a mystery that I wanted to learn. As with most things in history that we search out there is always more to the story.
In my searches I found that there was once a Methodist Church over that way by that same name. Further research showed that it actually stood beside where the cemetery is. They had removed that church and relocated it to a spot in Conecuh County and given it a new name.
The old Puryearville Methodist Church had become the Centenary Church. As I read more and asked more I found some history on it.
According to a document that is on the Facebook Group Burnt Corn Alabama:
Lazenby’s History of Methodism in Alabama and West Florida that is sourced by :
Reverend F.S. Moseley- — Eutaw, Alabama
Mr. John Cunningham—Evergreen, Alabama
Mrs. Eugene Riley—Monroeville, Alabama
This is excerpts of the account given in that document:
PURYEARVILLE METHODIST CHURCH MONROE COUNTY
The Purvearville Methodist Church started as a Society near Burnt Corn in 1820.
Among its earliest members were Isaac Betts, George Watson, and a Mrs. Puryear.
Another member there from 1820 until 1834 was James King, North Carolinian, licensed to preach in 1806 and moved to Alabama in 1819. It was while he was a member of Puryearville that he was ordained an elder by Bishop George in Sardis (Bellville) Church in 1822. King died at Allenton, Alabama and is buried in Oak Hill Cemetery in Wilcox County.
His wife is buried at Old Sardis.
Thomas Clinton was the first pastor appointed to the Conecuh Circuit, and he probably served this Society.
After some years this Society was moved to the community known as Puryearville and the church became known as the Puryearville Methodist Church.
Some sources say the first church was built in 1830. The property was deeded
to the trustees in 1843..
The deed to the Puryearville Church property is recorded in Monroe County Court House. This deed is dated March 25, 1843 and shows that Richard C. Puryear deeded 2 acres of land to Isaac Betts, George Watson, William Black, Joel B. Walden, and Thomas Pritchett
as trustees. R. H. Puryear and Richard R. Mosley witnessed the deed to which Hickman Fowler acted as Justice of Peace. James McCall was county clerk at the time.
It has been said that the upstairs of this, church was reserved for the use of the Washington-Monroe Academy and was also used for Masonic Meetings. This old building also had a slave gallery.
A new building replaced this old one about 1880 or 1890. The compiler first saw this building in 1912 and it seemed to have been twenty or thirty years old at that time.
The second building did not have an upstairs but was a neat small church in a beautiful location surrounded by trees.
All the trees have been cut and the church services were discontinued between 1928-30. The building was moved between 1941-43 when Reverend Sam E Hudgens was pastor of the Burnt Corn Methodist Church.
The old church was moved and rebuilt on property donated by Mr. Sam W. Salter.
It was renamed The Centenary Methodist Church and was located about six miles east of Burnt Corn near the community known as Breckenridge.
Oddly enough the Centenary Methodist Church was located diagonally across the road from the home of my Great grandparents the Dewberry’s. Finding all of this information on this church brought more meaning to me on it because of the fact that I am sure that they attended it some if not regularly. Little did I know any of this till I started to research Puryearvile Methodist Church.
Finding out all of this rich history of this cemetery and then going once again to the Centenary Church that is still standing brought a fulfillment to me and I hope it does to many others. I for one had been past the Centenary Church many times in my life. I had no clue of the connection that it has with the Puryearville Cemetery nor the community around it. This is one more reason that those of us who dig daily to learn thrive because there are so many stories that will be forever lost if they are not shared in media for the generations to come.
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.