STARS FELL ON ALABAMA | THE BEAT GOES ON | NORBERT PUTNAM, HITMAKER
THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE OF THE SHOALS SOUND
MAY/JUNE $4.95
Gary Nichols of the Grammy Award-Winning Band, The SteelDrivers noalastudios.com
Kitchen + Bar Essentials | Events | Catering | Goods for the Home Monday – Friday: 10am – 5pm · Saturday: 10am – 3pm Weekday Lunch: 11am – 2pm · Saturday Brunch: 10am – 2pm 462 Lane Drive · Florence, AL 35630 · 256.760.1090 · www.alabamachanin.com
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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may/june | noalastudios.com |
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May/June
34
features
North Alabama’s British Invasion
Stars Fell on Alabama
The Shoals’ British Car Club shares its members’ sportiest rides.
Eight of our most glamorous friends play dress up as eight of our most influential style icons.
by roy hall photos by patrick hood
photos by robert rausch intro by roy hall
52 Folks of Florence Photographer Abraham Rowe brings his popular Facebook series to print, with stories behind the friends you haven’t yet met. photos by abraham rowe intro by roy hall
46 Why Not Be a Place Where Stars Are Born? Grammy winner Gary Nichols discusses the future of the music industry, and how the Shoals can play a major part in it. by allen tomlinson photos by patrick hood
62 The Future Is Now Rebecca Ryan peers into her economic crystal ball for a glimpse into our local and national future. by allen tomlinson
92
72 Shindig8 A Q&A with Billy Reid
See page 116 for where to buy © Robert Rausch
Cover photo by Patrick Hood
by roy hall photos by abraham rowe
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editor’s letter « Allen Tomlinson
New Beginnings. Cherished Traditions. no’ala advisory board Jeremy Britten Anne Bernauer Vicki Goldston Leslie Keys Tera Wages Ashley Winkle
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Or at least that’s what they say. That’s our intent for this magazine. Beginning with this issue, Roy Hall begins his tenure as editor in chief of No’Ala and No’Ala Huntsville, replacing me and doing the job he pretty much has been doing for the past year or so anyway. You know Roy: he’s the sharp, witty writer, the guy with the quick sense of humor and the eye for detail. For quite a while now, he’s organized us and kept us in line, basically issuing marching orders for me, so it’s appropriate that he take the reins. You’ll love him; we do. For those of you who follow David Sims and me personally on Facebook, you know that we are relocating to the Pacific Northwest. David will continue to design the magazines from there, overseeing the creative work that comes from our agency and these publications. That’s a cherished tradition that isn’t changing; the new beginning is my role as director of marketing and communications for the Knight Cancer Institute in Portland, an organization with a billion dollars in the bank to invest in cancer research. It’s a breathtaking challenge, one I could not pass up, although leaving the best spot in the world for the second best spot in the world has its bittersweet moments. Matt Liles, the president of No’Ala Studios, has spent the last two years training to replace me on the agency side, and he has better marketing instincts than I have. You’ll love him; we do. Jamie Noles will continue to be the liaison between the magazines and the creative staff ; our stable of artists, writers, and creators remains intact. After all, the more things change, the more they remain the same. We’ve been so humbled by the response and support our communities have given these magazines, and our pledge is to continue to give you the very best glimpse into the lives of the people who make these communities so special. You might not see me as much, but that won’t matter. What matters is that you live in a great spot, you have retailers who deserve your support, and everything moves toward good. Thank you for being such a loyal supporter. We love you for that. Allen Tomlinson Publisher
Matt Liles
Roy Hall
Jamie Noles
David Sims
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contents
“Don’t mess with the mojo.” by judy hood photos by patrick hood
68 © Patrick Hood
everything else 14 16
Calendar
No’Ala is published six times annually by No’Ala Studios PO Box 2530, Florence, AL 35630 Phone: (256) 766-4222 | Fax: (256) 766-4106 Toll-free: (800) 779-4222 Web: noalastudios.com
Selected Events for May/June 2016
Cryin’ Out Loud The Princess and the Peanut Butter
Standard postage paid at Florence, AL. A one-year subscription is $19.95 for delivery in the United States. Signed articles reflect only the views of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the editors. Advertisers are solely responsible for the content of their advertisements.
by sara wright covington
20
Kudos by roy hall
22
Market by jamie noles photos by patrick hood
Roots by nancy sanford, florence-lauderdale public library
108
A Favor for Eleanor Chapter Six: Billy Two amy greer cruce illustrations by rowan finnegan
114
Food for Thought Light and Springy by sarah gaede
118
© 2008-2016 No’Ala Studios, All rights reserved. © Patrick Hood
30
Parting Shot by robert rausch
MAY/JUNE 2016 Volume 9: Issue 3 ••• Publisher » C. Allen Tomlinson Editor-in-Chief » Roy Hall President » Matthew Liles Creative Director » David Sims Advertising Director » Jamie Noles Graphic Designer » Rowan Finnegan Web Designer » Justin Hall Editorial Assistant » Dylan Andrews Proofreader » Carole Maynard Distribution » Kathleen Bobo ••• Contributing Writers Sara Wright Covington, Amy Greer Cruce Sarah Gaede, Roy Hall, Judy Hood, Nancy Sanford, Allen Tomlinson ••• Contributing Photographers Patrick Hood, Robert Rausch, Abraham Rowe ••• Contributing Illustrator Rowan Finnegan •••
76
In the Beginning: Before FAME was a hitmaker or Muscle Shoals had a Sound, a group of young musicians jammed above a downtown Florence pharmacy. The music world hasn’t been the same since. by roy hall portraits by patrick hood
OOPS. A story about The Elephant Sanctuary in Tennessee in the March/April issue should have stated that co-founder Carol Buckley bought 112 acres to start the sanctuary in 1995. Buckley began leasing land from International Paper in 1996.
Send all correspondence to Roy Hall, Editor, at the postal address above, or by e-mail to roy@noalastudios.com. Letters may be edited for space and style. To advertise, contact us at (256) 766-4222 or sales@noalastudios.com. The editor will provide writer’s guidelines upon request. Prospective authors should not submit unsolicited manuscripts; please query the editor first. No’Ala is printed with vegetable-based inks. Please recycle.
Connect with us on Facebook: No’Ala Studios Instagram: noalastudios, Pinterest: NoAlaStudios, and Twitter: @NoAla_Magazine
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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calendar
Friday, May 6 and Friday, June 3 Florence First Fridays The exciting monthly event gathers artists of all kinds—musicians, painters, sculptors, photographers, hand-crafted jewelry creators, and more—for a community-wide celebration. 5:00pm-8:00pm; Free; Downtown Florence; firstfridaysflorence.org Sunday, May 8 Shoals Symphony presents Americana Spring Dr. Daniel Stevens conducts the annual spring concert. 3:00pm; Admission charged; Norton Auditorium, UNA; (256) 765-5122; shoalssymphony.una.edu Tuesday, May 10 Prayer, Poetry, and Passion The Shoals Chamber Singers spring performance features stirring arrangements of some familiar hymns and spirituals. 7:00pm; Free (Donations encouraged); Grace Episcopal Church, 103 Darby Ave, Sheffield; (256) 810-1212 Thursday, May 19 – Sunday, May 22 Sordid Lives Sissy is trying to give up cigarettes. Brother Boy thinks he’s Tammy Wynette. Latrelle and LaVonda can’t stop bickering over funeral arrangements, and Noleta is holding her husband at gunpoint! And they’ve all gathered for Grandma Peggy’s funeral. This black comedy, more suited for adult audiences, has been nominated for over 30 awards. Thur-Sat 7:30pm and Sun 2:00pm; Admission charged; Shoals Theatre, 123 N Seminary St; (256) 764-1700; shoalstheatre.org Friday, May 20 – Saturday, May 21 UNA Front Porch Storytelling Festival This UNA event has become a tradition filled with laughter and nostalgia, as professional storytellers and musicians guide audiences to different times and places through the magic of great storytelling. For event descriptions and times, visit una.edu/storytelling Saturday, May 21 Alabama Chanin Spring Harvest Dinner Join Alabama Chanin for their first Spring Harvest Dinner. Chef Zach Chanin’s menu will include local, seasonal, and organic vegetables, meats, and ingredients. A portion of sales will benefit their current partnership with non-profit organization Nest. 6:30pm; $78 (includes cocktails, appetizers, four courses, and wine pairings); Alabama Chanin at The Factory, 462 Lane Dr; (256) 760-1090; alabamachanin.com Saturday, May 21 – Sunday, May 22 Arts Alive Celebrating its 30th year, Arts Alive attracts hundreds of art and craft lovers from across the Southeast to downtown Florence’s Wilson Park for two family-friendly days of art browsing and buying. Come to the park, chat with artists, and enjoy beautiful downtown Florence, as you stroll through booths featuring a juried collection from across the country. Sat and Sun; 9:00am-5:00pm; Free; Wilson Park; alabamaartsalive.com Thursday, June 23 – Sunday, June 26 Helen Keller Festival Over 100 events including headliner music artists, fine arts and crafts show, a parade, and Keller Kids educational activities. This annual event is one of the largest festivals in North Alabama. For event descriptions, times, locations, and other information, visit helenkellerfestival.com
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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cryin’ out loud » Sara Wright Covington In this sea of pink propaganda, it can become difficult to manage a little girl’s expectations for life when the majority of these princess characters end up with Prince Charming, living in a palace.
THE PRINCESS AND THE PEANUT BUTTER I’m not sure who started cutting the crusts off her bread. All I know is that one day Princess Kate went from a smiling PB & J enthusiast, happily eating her sandwiches in all their crusted glory, to a demanding picky eater, refusing all bread set before her not sans crust. And no, the princess to which I refer is not the current Duchess of Cambridge, but my four-year-old, Katherine—also referenced as the former, from the moment she practically pranced out of my womb, speaking in perfect sentences, turning her tiny nose up to anything but breast milk, and sleeping a maximum of two hours a night. For me, the grand mystery of child rearing is likely no different than it was centuries ago, as I imagine parents have always pondered the ancient argument of nature versus nurture. So like any responsible parent questioning their child’s behavior, I stare at her across the table and wonder who has created this picky eater. Is it her surroundings or just her DNA? Are we spoiling her or has she truly developed a crust aversion? And although I personally believe it is likely a combination of both, if I can’t pin it on my husband, a grandparent, or one of her fellow picky friends, I go to my other default source of pretty much all blame—the Disney Princess Franchise. It might be reckless journalism to make this claim without proper sourcing/research, but I feel fairly certain that even if you don’t have small children, watch television, listen to the radio, or bother to climb out from under the rock where you’ve been living for the last decade or so, you’ve heard of at least one or more of these little animated monarchs. Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty have all been on the scene for well over 50 years, so I feel fairly certain you’ve at least heard of those, while The Little Mermaid’s Princess Ariel, Beauty and the Beast’s Princess Belle, and Tangled’s Princess Rapunzel have arrived in more recent years, along with a slew of others. The one thing all these ladies have in common? They all end up with a prince. Every. Last. One. When you are a mom of girls, you realize early on that Disney is omnipotent, and these famed females are in your life whether you like it or not. Their pink presences begin arriving when those baby girls are still in utero at baby showers and then at birthdays and holidays, via supermarket checkouts, television, movies, books, and more. And it’s not that I mind so much really, as I also grew up with a few of these characters; it’s just that when I was growing up, these characters didn’t permeate the marketplace as they do now, with theme parks, cruise ships, multiple entertainment networks, and endless merchandise lining the aisles of retail stores. My point is that in this sea of pink propaganda, it can become difficult to manage a little girl’s expectations for life when the majority of these princess characters end up with Prince Charming, living in a palace. “But mommy, princesses do not wear pants, or the color black.” “Mommy, princesses DO NOT have to brush their teeth.” “How old am I going to be when I marry a prince, Mommy?” We argue over these things, while on the television in the background Belle from Beauty and the Beast bellows loudly from a hilltop in France that she “wants adventure in the greatwide somewhere,” after rejecting a proposal from the roguishly handsome town brute that would no doubt destine her for a life of childbearing and husband servitude. Then, in what I can assume is only a matter of days, Belle has shacked up with a beast and fallen in love with him as he seems to magically transform into a nice guy overnight.
| noalastudios.com | may/june
My daughter, distracted from the no-pants fight, stops to swoon as she watches, and I have to bite my tongue not to say, “Sweetie, nobody with that bad of a temper changes over night. When a man, er a beast, locks you in a room and tells you ‘if you don’t eat with me you don’t eat at all,’ RUN LIKE HELL.” It truly would be reckless journalism for me not to point out, to Disney’s credit, they have in recent years introduced a few more modern female protagonists—strong leading ladies who aren’t waiting around to be rescued by a prince— demonstrating that girls really can do anything they set their minds too, whether it’s shooting arrows or going to war. And recent box office record breaker Frozen is also a bit more relatable. Main character Princess Elsa is born with ice in her veins and learns at an early age that getting emotional or angry causes her to physically freeze everything around her. She means no harm to anyone, and chooses to live her life behind the seclusion of a closed door, lest she get provoked—a wise decision. Frozen clearly takes place long before the medical marvels of mood elevators via medication, and poor Princess Elsa just wants to be left alone to manage her likely manic depressive disposition, but a meddling sister just won’t let her be, and Elsa ends up unintentionally freezing her entire kingdom. To Frozen’s credit, the curse-breaking resolution turns out to be true love—and not in a romantic form, but in the unconditional love of the two sisters. Bravo, Frozen— you’ve at least encouraged my two daughters to try and get along for Frozen’s sake. So the irony, as I obligingly cut the crusts off Princess Kate’s bread, is that I have to remind myself that it is not my job to create a palace for my daughters, fussing over their happiness and catering to their every whim. It is my job to make them realize that true happiness has to come from within. It is my job to teach them fairy tales can look like many different things, and that sometimes even the strongest magic can’t change a person or place. Princesses do wear pants, and lab coats, and scrubs, and suits, and army fatigues. Not all stories end with a prince at the end, and there is no magical trident to transport them into another world. One princess’s happy ending may look completely different from another, and Prince Charming may or may not be in the equation at all. And so we turn off the TV and read books, and take walks, and fold laundry, and have living room floor picnics with saltines and orange juice. We talk about having good friends, and dreams, and why God painted the grass green, and how smart, kind, independent girls can rule the world without a crown, or even a prince. Walt Disney himself famously said, “I always like to look on the optimistic side of life, but I am realistic enough to know that life is a complex matter.” Life is complex, but childhood is enchanting, and we can never go back to it once we are all grown up. So I bite my lip and try to leave the tiaras and the magic, and hope against all hope, that my little princesses are listening to me.
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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scene
Tricia and Harold Lewis Loee Miree and Katrina Hudson
Melissa Daniel Bain Stanley and Karen Goldstein
Elizabeth Messer, Temberly Tyler-Sledge, Kim Gosney, and Stacy Hooper
Roseann Gibson and Cindy Buckner
Above: Wine Tasting Event hosted by Mary Ellen’s Circle to benefit CASA february , · sweet basil café, florence
Julie Raoulx, Lyndsie McClure, and Rachel Rohler
John Waters and Shannon Wells
© Shannon Sh Wells W ll and dD David id M Montgomery
Below: Tables of Ten, a benefit for the 610 Project march , marriott shoals conference center, florence
Josh Quick, Ryan Matthews, Alan Phillips, Ashley Terry, Zach Chanin, Kyle Ogden, Einar Gudmundsson, John Melton, and Garien Shelby Debra Dombrowski-Hendrix and Jackie Hendrix
Melissa Daniel Bain
Tracy and Eli Flippen
Regina Bien, Mike Ivanco, Hillary Eckl, and Angie Locker
Dominique Dixon, Melissa Daniel Bain, and Devon Dixon
* Names for photos are provided by the organization or business featured.
Kris Lard and Tracy Burdine Hope Carrico, Sarah Gillis, Michelle Carrico, and LeAnne Roach © Abraham Rowe
DO YOU SUFFER FROM:
• Shortness of breath • Numbness • Chest pain or tightness • Burning or tingling in your legs • Weakness or coldness in your legs or arms • Pain in the neck • Headaches • Heart burn, indigestion, or burping If so, these could be signs of cardiovascular disease. If you are suffering from any of these symptoms, Dr. Ajit Naidu and Dr. Brian Cole, Board Certified Cardiologists at the Cardiovascular Institute of the Shoals can help determine if these are serious. We give second opinions, too!
Please call 256-766-2310 for an appointment. 2415 Helton Drive, Suite A, Florence , AL 35630 • Phone 256-766-2310
may/june | noalastudios.com |
kudos
20 »
If you want to share some good news about a friend, neighbor, or colleague—or even toot your own horn—send your kudos to roy@noalastudios.com.
by roy hall
© David McC McClister © Robert Rausch
The SteelDrivers
Jason Isbell
Alabama Music Hall of Fame Inductees Donna Jean Godchaux-McKay
Congratulations to hometown honorees Donna Jean Godchaux-McKay and The Muscle Shoals Horns for their induction into the Alabama Music Hall of Fame. Godchaux-McKay, whose career began singing backup on iconic records “When A Man Loves A Woman” and Elvis’s “Suspicious Minds,” spent most of the 1970s as a member of super group Grateful Dead. In 1994, Godchaux-McKay was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, along with her former Grateful Dead bandmates. As FAME Records in-house horn section, The Muscle Shoals Horns’ contribution to the pop music canon is nearly unrivaled, including session work with Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, B.B. King, Bob Seger, Jimmy Buffett, and Elton John. The Muscle Shoals Horns are Harvey Thompson, Charles Rose, Harrison Calloway, and Ronnie Eades. Alabama Music Hall of Fame inducted its new members during a ceremony at the Marriott Shoals Conference Center, February 26.
| noalastudios.com | may/june
The Muscle Shoals Horns
And the GRAMMY goes to… The National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences honored Shoals-area artists at the 58th Annual GRAMMY awards held February 15 in Los Angeles. Florence Academy of Fine Arts songwriting instructor and The SteelDrivers lead singer Gary Nichols and his band were presented with the GRAMMY for Best Bluegrass Album, for The Muscle Shoals Sessions, recorded at producer Jimmy Nutt’s NuttHouse studio in Sheffield. Greenhill-native Jason Isbell took home two GRAMMYs for Best American Roots Song (“Frames”) and Best Americana Album (Something More Than Free). Something More Than Free debuted at number one on Billboard magazine’s rock, folk, and country charts.
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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market » By Jamie Noles » Photos by Patrick Hood
[A] CHAN LUU SIGNATURE BEADED WRAP BRACELET ($198) HARPER CLOTHING CO. (256) 760-7115
[D] MOSCHINO STAINLESS STEEL WATCH WITH LEATHER BAND ($150) WILLOWBROOK SHOPPE (256) 270-7181
[B] GRACE GIRL BEADS SILK WRAP WITH WHITE DRUZY ($40) HOUSE OF HOLLAND (256) 206-8989
[E] MICKEY LYNN COBALT WRAP BRACELET ($165) LILLY’S SPORTSWEAR (256) 767-0071
[C] VINTAGE INSPIRED ROSE BRACELET ($36) ANN ALDRIDGE BOUTIQUE (256) 284-7308
[F]
[G] CITIZEN MEN’S ECO DRIVE SPORT WATCH WITH CHRONOGRAPH DATE ($496) JAMIE HOOD JEWELERS (256) 381-6889 [H] LOVE POPPY. GREY SUEDE CORD WRAP BRACELET WITH ROSE QUARTZ ($47) AUDIE MESCAL (256) 314-6684
THE GIVING KEYS BANGLE ($58) SIDE LINES (256) 767-0925
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DAVID BOWIE BANGLE ($38) CLOTH & STONE (256) 767-0133
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WRIST CANDY [F]
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MEET ANGE LINLEY The Typical Crossfit No’Ala Athlete
Crossfit No’Ala athletes come from all walks of life— and in all levels of physical condition. Our program works because it maximizes the work you do in an intense period of time, scaled to your level, in a supportive community of people who are there to achieve the same thing: be the fittest they can be. It’s fun. It’s never boring. And it works. Just ask Ange.
“You gotta do what you can and not worry about the things you can’t.” —Ange Linley, LPTA, North Alabama Bone and Joint Rehab
116 Helton Court, Florence 256.335.2637
crossfitnoala.com
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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market
TEE PARTY CANDIDATES
CANVAS HIT RECORDING CAPITAL T-SHIRT ($25) MUSCLE SHOALS SOUND STUDIO (256) 394-3562
YALLSOME FOSTER THE SOUTH T-SHIRT ($38) CLOTH & STONE (256) 767-0133
BROKENDOWN VACATION TEE ($68) LILLY’S SPORTSWEAR (256) 767-0071
CANVAS SWAMPERS T-SHIRT ($25) MUSCLE SHOALS SOUND STUDIOS (256) 394-3562
FRIENDS OF SPRING PARK FOUNDATION T-SHIRT ($20) AUDIE MESCAL (256) 314-6684
TOM PETTY T-SHIRT ($64) HARPER CLOTHING CO. (256) 760-7115
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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market
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RAIN PLAN [A] [E]
Academic Excellence in a new location Come grow with us! Riverhill School will break ground this summer on a new building in a new location on Darby Drive in Florence. We’re planning to be in our new school in the Fall of 2017. This new 32,000 square foot facility will position us to grow and continue to provide academic excellence - in a new place. Watch for more announcements concerning our new venture. If you’re interested in academic excellence for your children, we’re enrolling now for Fall of 2016. Contact Mary Jane Fowler at 256-764-8200 or visit www.RiverhillSchool.org.
may/june | noalastudios.com |
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market
KEEP YOUR COOL
[A] ALL FOR COLOR “LARGE COOLER” ($38) MARIGAIL’S FASHION HOUSE (256) 764-9444
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BOGG BAG IN YELLOW ($60) WITH “BRR INSERT” ($25) PRINTERS & STATIONERS (256) 764-8061
[G] SCOUT LUNCH TOTE ($24) PRINTERS & STATIONERS (256) 764-8061
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| noalastudios.com | may/june
From Muscle Shoals to the world and back. When you fly the Shoals, we’ll take you there in style & comfort!
REGISTER NOW www.athens.edu/apply
www.Boutiqueair.com 1-855-268-8478 Daily Flights to Nashville and Atlanta
$39.00 to Nashville $59.00 to Atlanta
Cheaper and faster than driving
Visit www.flytheshoals.com to book your flight today! may/june | noalastudios.com |
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roots » Nancy Sanford, Florence-Lauderdale Public Library
What many people don’t know is that some of the biggest stars of their day traveled to the Shoals not only to record music, but to perform it.
THE KING WAS HERE By now, everyone is familiar with the significant contribution the Shoals has made to the history of popular music. W. C. Handy, Sam Phillips, Percy Sledge, Donna Jean Godchaux-McKay, Norbert Putman, and a host of others, too many to name, hail from here. What many people don’t know is that some of the biggest stars of their day traveled to the Shoals throughout the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s, not only to record music, but to perform it. The most familiar name of all is the king himself, Elvis Presley, who played three shows at the Sheffield Recreation Center, on Nashville Avenue, in 1955. For his January performance that year, Elvis appeared as the opening act for other, better known, but now mostly forgotten, artists. Tickets were 75 cents. The line-up at the second show eight months later included some of highest-wattage stars of their day: Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, and, of course, Elvis. By the third show in November, ticket prices were one dollar, and country music star Hank Thompson was added to the bill. The Sheffield Recreation Center also hosted one of the great jazz vocalists and trumpeters of all time, Louis Armstrong, and the Man in Black himself, Johnny Cash, who performed in both Sheffield and Florence, where he was joined by the future Mrs. Cash, June Carter. Across the river, the Florence Coliseum also hosted its share of musical stars from across the globe. The dark days of segregation still hung over the South, so there were usually two performances, one at 7 p.m., another at 9:30 p.m. In 1960, powerhouses B.B. King and Ray Charles rocked the Coliseum, and in ’65, the Ryan Seacrest of his day, American Bandstand host Dick Clark brought his musical revue, Caravan of Stars, to the Coliseum. A second Dick Clark show included The Four Seasons, Paul Revere and the Raiders, and English singer Dusty Springfield, whose iconic album Dusty in Memphis was only a few years away. Solomon Burke and his Orchestra, known at the time as the King of Rock and Roll Big Show and Dance, also performed at the Coliseum. And the coliseum didn’t just feature rock bands—the ex-governor of Louisiana, Jimmy Davis, performed with his gospel group in August 1969. In the early ’70s, country legends Conway Twitty, Barbara Mandrell, and Hank Williams, Jr. brought their signature brands of twang to the Coliseum, followed a few years later by ZZ Top and Lynyrd Skynyrd with their newly-emergent southern rock sound. (A young singer and guitarist named Jimmy Buffett opened for Skynyrd in August of 1974.) According to producer David Johnson, of David Johnson Productions in Sheffield, many of the shows at the coliseum in the ’70s, featured local bands as opening acts for the likes of Charlie Rich, Jeannie C. Riley, and Neil Diamond.
The Coliseum also hosted Battle of the Bands shows, which featured local bands like Mickey and the New Breed, The Weejuns, and The Dimensions. Part concert, part dance party, you can almost imagine the prom scene from the film Grease when hearing about these days. Allen Easterling, of Mickey and the New Breed, remembers a floor full of young people dancing the night away at these shows. Admission was usually about two dollars. The Shoals’ musical history is indeed a diverse one. The legends whose journeys began here and those that have departed this world still influence our music today. Their music inspires, consoles, and energizes our spirit. And that is a history we can all be proud of.
may/june | noalastudios.com |
| noalastudios.com | may/june
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N O R T H A L A B A M A’ S
The four medallion plates affixed to the “badge bar” are not original to the ’59 MGA 1600. They represent (from left to right) a combination of the Royal Family’s crest and car company logo, the Union Jack, the English flag, and MG’s iconic marque.
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text by roy hall » photos by patrick hood
For nearly two decades, members of the Shoals British Car Club (SBCC) have been promoting the preservation of British-made automobiles. As you turn these pages, you’ll see why. Some of Britain’s most celebrated post-war car models, all the pride and joy of Car Club members, are represented here: sporty MGs and spritely Triumphs; an Austin-Healey Austin Powers would be proud to call his own, baby; and a Rolls-Royce fit for a queen.
If you’re the proud owner of a British car—or just a fan of English automotive design— the SBCC welcomes you to visit their website at shoalsbritishcars.org, for membership information.
To get a closer look at these beauties, mark your calendar for September 10, when the SBCC hosts their annual car show at Joe Wheeler.
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R O L L S - R OYC E English engineer and industrialist Frederic Henry Royce and car seller Charles Stewart Rolls partnered in 1906 to produce luxury auto line Rolls-Royce. The first model under the Rolls-Royce marque, the Silver Ghost, quickly earned a world-wide reputation as the Cadillac of cars. Well, maybe not Cadillac. But they are considered quite bling-bling!
FROM DETROIT WITH LOVE: Did you know, Special Agent 007’s first big screen ride wasn’t in his trademark Aston Martin. Or a Jaguar. Not even a Mini Cooper. We first see Bond behind the wheel of a Chevrolet Bel Air convertible, in 1962’s Dr. No.
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This rubber-bumpered ’76 MGB was purchased brand new for $5,328, in 1976, from Foreign Car City, Birmingham. (That’s ber-ming-HAM, Alabama, not BUHR-mingum, England.) It still has all its original parts.
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AUSTIN-HE ALE Y The product of another partnership, this time between British Motor Corporation’s Austin division and Donald Healey Motor Company, Austin-Healeys were manufactured for a mere 20 years, between 1952 and 1972.
• This bug-eyed former thoroughbred is taking it easy in retirement. The former race car, a ’59 Austin-Healey Sprite (or “Bugeye”), was purchased from one of the Alabama Sports Car Club’s original members, who raced it at Courtland AFB, back in the ’50s. | noalastudios.com | may/june
Sleek and simple on the outside, plush on the inside, this ’74 Triumph TR6 sports an ostrich leather interior and a handmade, walnut dash.
In the lead-up to World War II, the British government built “shadow factories” adjacent to existing automotive plants, for the efficient transfer of production from cars to military production when the time came.
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TRIUMPH Triumph traces its origins all the way back to Queen Victoria’s day, when Siegried Bettman began selling bicycles imported from the continent, in 1881, followed by Triumph motorcycles, in 1902. The first Triumph motor car rolled off the assembly line in 1921. Triumph ceased car production in 1981, although its trademark is still held by BMW.
The logo on the ’73 Triumph Spitfire’s hood (or “bonnet) is taken from a ’71 model and is inspired by an RAF “Spitfire” fighter plane.
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Some of the re-build budget for this ’59 Austin-Healey 3000 was recouped in chiropractor savings. The seats were reclined three inches from their original, vertical position to make a road trip to Texas and back more comfortable.
The only person in Britain allowed to drive without a license is Queen Elizabeth II. Because licenses are issued in Her Majesty’s name, a license bearing the name Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor would be redundant. Nor can she be arrested if her custom-built Bentley’s bonnet bumps you whilst crossing a roundabout: as head of state, Liz is immune from prosecution.
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This ’74 MGB has been with its current owners, who rebuilt it from the ground up, for 25 years.
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MEDIEVAL ROAD RAGE: It’s why they drive on the “wrong” side of the road. In feudal times, a horseback traveler wanted his sword-arm closest to his approaching enemies. Since most people are right-handed, that meant traffic moves to the left…to the left.
The current owner found this baby blue beauty, a ’57 Austin-Healey 100-6, in a classified ad, when he was in the 11th grade. In ’02, he drove it to California and back, top down the whole way. Downside? “I lost a bunch of hats.”
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MG The origin of the iconic British roadster dates back nearly a century, to 1924. The initials MG represent Morris Garages, the Oxford-based employer of the original model’s designer.
The bill of sale from the second owner, dated January 30, 1959, sets the payment schedule for the ’50 MG TD over a 17-month term. Even factoring inflation, the $6/month payments are still a bargain: $6 in 1959 is the equivalent of only $59 today!
NORTH ATLANTIC TRAFFIC ORGANIZATION: Designed in England by American-based Ford, and manufactured in Wales, Germany, and Spain, the UK’s biggest-selling car ever, the Fiesta, is truly an international effort.
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WHY NOT BE A
PLACE WHERE STARS ARE BORN?
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A SPECIAL NO’ALA “WHY NOT?” UPDATE
text by allen tomlinson » photos by patrick hood
The important thing, according to Gary Nichols, is that Muscle Shoals be the place where music is happening. Not where it used to happen—where it’s happening now. And Gary Nichols kind of knows what he’s talking about. A member of the popular bluegrass group The SteelDrivers, Gary and the gang won a Grammy last year for an album produced by Jimmy Nutt at Nutthouse Recording Studio in Sheffield. That wasn’t the first time Gary has had success in the music business; in 2006 he made his debut with the release of his single “Unbroken Ground,” which reached No. 39 on the Billboard Hot Country Songs charts. Following it were the singles “I Can’t Love You Anymore” and “Goin’ Fast.” Born and raised in Florence, Gary started performing when he was six, and by the time he was a young teenager, he was playing at Tappers Lounge, taking breaks to go outside and do his homework. Although his music lets him travel, the Shoals area is his home, and with his wife and four children, he’s able to be a writer, producer, father…and teacher. Which brings us to the idea of making the Shoals an entrepreneurial center for musicians.
Facing page: FAFA student David Craft
Gary teaches at the Florence High School Academy for Fine Arts (FAFA). His belief is that young people can’t necessarily be anything they want to be—but they can be whatever they work to be. “I’d like to see us reclaim our position as the Hit Recording Capital of the World,” he says, and points to no less than 20 of his current students who he thinks will have promising careers in some aspect of the music business. “When I was growing up here, if I hadn’t seen others succeed in this business, I wouldn’t have known it was possible,” he says. “It’s possible.” So, that begs the question: how can we continue to build on our musical success and continue to make Muscle Shoals Music what’s happening now? It probably won’t happen by competing head-to-head with Nashville, New York, or Los Angeles. Those brands are way too strong, and larger labels have signifi-
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Gary Nichols
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WITHOUT GUIDANCE, MUSIC CAN SOMETIMES BE A DANGEROUS PROFESSION, AND I’VE LOST FRIENDS TO ADDICTION AND STUPIDITY. WE’RE TELLING OUR STUDENTS THE TRUTH, THAT THEY CAN GET HIGH ON THE MUSIC.” GARY NICHOLS
cantly invested in locations there. But the one thing that they are not doing, which leaves a niche for us, is promoting the idea that the Muscle Shoals area is where careers get started. History is on our side with this approach. Gary Nichols, John Paul White, Patterson Hood, and a host of other established musicians started their careers here—but, it could be argued, so did megastars like Aretha Franklin, Bob Segar, The Rolling Stones, Percy Sledge, and on and on and on. Many of the really big ones recorded their first hits here (hence “The Hit Recording Capital of the World”), but went on to other, larger places to continue their careers. It’s not hard to see, though, that the head start they got in Muscle Shoals gave them the visibility and momentum they needed. The University of North Alabama, the Shoals Chamber of Commerce, and the Shoals Entrepreneurial Center are all involved in the business of helping young, start-up businesses get on their feet and grow. That creates an atmosphere of entrepreneurship in the Shoals area that could easily translate to those wanting performance careers. Why not focus on the specific and special needs of the aspiring recording artist and design a program that fosters their growth? It would be good for them, good for the community, and good for the continuation of our brand as a place where careers get started. FAFA is the first step. Gary is a part of the GRAMMY Association’s Aspiring Musicians Program, which creates opportunities for high school students to work with music professionals to get real-world experience and advice about how to have a career in music. (That includes any kind of music career—audio engineer, concert promoter, electronic music producer, manager, musician, music journalist, singer, songwriter—any music career.) As a teacher in the FAFA program, Gary offers encouragement “to students, often, who are like I was—lost in the cracks, sometimes,” but with promise and the ability to succeed. “Without guidance, music can sometimes be a dangerous profession,” Gary says, “and I’ve lost friends to addiction and stupidity. We’re telling our students the truth, that they can get high on the music.” Another idea that has been bandied about has to do with an Artist-in-Residence program. If the area held a talent search—think American Idol or The Voice—to find the very best rising talent, and then adopted that person for a year, it might have multiple benefits. The community could agree to house and feed the artist (or artists) and provide them with a small stipend in exchange for the artist’s time teaching music, songwriting, or music in the schools. Area recording studios could offer the use of their studios to record, and might even produce albums or EPs for the artist; the result, when hits are produced (and they will be produced), is increased attention for the artist, the studio, and for the Shoals in general. Students in the school system win because they get to work with talent and learn about music as a career; local studios win because they get to produce up-and-coming talent and help put them on the map; the artists win because they become a part of a musical support group in this community, get
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From left to right: Gary Nichols with student musicians from the Florence Academy of Fine Arts (FAFA); Christian Maybrey (left) and Emmett Redding; Nichols with David Craft
professional studio help in producing their work, and get to take advantage of all of the resources here that will help them launch their careers. One or two good hits from a program like this—say, from a talent like the next Gary Nichols, or John Paul White, or Jason Isbell, or you name a hundred others—and the word will spread. Muscle Shoals is where music careers get started, where talent is fostered, and where an entire community works together to help launch hits. Muscle Shoals continues to be the place where music is happening. Not where it used to happen—where it happens, every day. Why not? They write songs about how Stars Fell on Alabama—maybe our role, in the future, is to take those stars, teach them, nurture them, and send them out into the world to make a difference. Muscle Shoals—where careers are started.
WHY NOT FOCUS ON THE SPECIFIC AND SPECIAL NEEDS
OF THE ASPIRING RECORDING ARTIST AND DESIGN A PROGRAM THAT FOSTERS THEIR GROWTH? IT WOULD BE GOOD FOR THE CONTINUATION OF OUR BRAND AS A PLACE WHERE CAREERS GET STARTED. | noalastudios.com | may/june
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“We like to go to the Chicago Cafe or to a concert. We normally go to shows at 116. I really like The End, but my parents are strict and they trust 116 because of Billy Reid, although they recently let me go to a poetry slam at The End.”
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photo essay by abraham rowe » intro by roy hall
FOL KS
OF
F LO R E NC E
Everybody has a story.
Two years ago, photographer Abraham Rowe set out, camera in hand, to help the folks of Florence tell theirs. Inspired by Facebook’s hugely popular photo-documentary project, Humans of New York, Rowe approached people throughout Florence— at ball games, outside grocery stores, on city sidewalks, at festivals and gatherings and asked to take their pictures and to share with him what was on their minds.
The vignettes that developed offer a glimpse into the lives of people we see all around us, every day. There are stories of friendship and celebration, loss and joy, and ordinary moments that usually pass without a trace.
Folks of Florence has grown into an impressive archive of hundreds of photos and stories. Each issue, we’ll share a few of them.
We begin with a skateboarder, a saxophonist, a couple of patriots, and a Steampunk captain. ■
Very special thanks to Abraham Rowe for sharing his work, and to his subjects, for sharing their stories.
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FOLKS OF FLORENCE “We met at W.C. Handy School in the first grade. We were neighbors on the West Side all our lives. We are cradle to the grave friends. It’s love—love bonds anything together. We don’t look at each other’s faults, but we do fuss a lot.”
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FOLKS OF FLORENCE “I am Murdoch Strongarm, Captain of the Iron Sheep of the Phoenix Air Fleet. This is going to be one of the first meetups of the Florence Steampunk Society. There aren’t many Steampunks in the Florence area; to find a few is a rarity. We finally found each other. We’re meeting in Wilson Park in a few minutes if you want to skip on over there. “
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FOLKS OF FLORENCE “We have lived here longer than anyone, about 40 years. We’re not real sure when the [North College] neighborhood 4th of July parade started, but it gets bigger every year. There are so many fairy godmothers and brothers and sisters who have put so much into it.”
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“I have been long boarding since before summer semester, so five or six months. If you go to the top of the parking deck for an hour, you will probably run in to other boarders, so you have instant friends.”
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FOLKS OF FLORENCE “I just got off work. I’m just playing right now because I lost my mom this year. I went to go see her grave today. This is the first Thanksgiving without her. It’s been pretty hard. Just playing to free my mind.”
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Courtesy photo
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The Future Is Now (or could be anyway) An interview with Futurist Rebecca Ryan, Next Generation Consulting text by allen tomlinson
OF ALL OF THE SUPERPOWERS YOU MIGHT BE GRANTED, wouldn’t the ability to see the future be the most rewarding? Seeing through walls or being able to fly are nice, but understanding what could happen in the real world in the near and short-term future would be a fascinating skill. Believe it or not, there are people who make their livings doing just that— predicting the future. Usually trained as trend analysts, these futurists look at current conditions and make predictions about how the world might look a few years out. It’s an invaluable skill for business, government, and anyone who wants to plan ahead. Wikipedia says, “Futurists or futurologists are scientists and social scientists whose specialty is futurology, or the attempt to systematically explore predictions and possibilities about the future and how they can emerge from the present, whether that of human society in particular or of life on Earth in general.” On February 16, UNA’s College of Business and the Florence/Lauderdale Public Library brought Rebecca Ryan, a futurist, to George’s 217 in Sheffield to address a gathering of businesspeople. Rebecca’s insights into how we should be planning for economic development and what she sees happening in the near and short-term future, based on her analysis of trends, was fascinating—and led us to follow up with a phone interview to ask some questions about the Shoals area in particular.
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Rebecca is energetic, fun, and easy to talk to. The conversation started, of course, with the obvious question: How in the world does one become a futurist? NO’ALA: So, Rebecca—what is this futurist thing, and how did you get to be one? REBECCA: (Laughs.) I didn’t even know there was such a person! I trained as an economist and did a lot of trend analysis work, and when I decided to start my company, I was doing demographic trend analysis. When the recession hit, I wanted to broaden my scope, and realized I could get a degree in “Strategic Foresight” from one of three universities—University of Houston, University of Hawaii, and Notre Dame. I chose Houston. NO’ALA: One concept you promote is the idea of seasons. Tell us a little about what that is. REBECCA: Things operate on a seasonal cycle—spring, summer, fall, winter—and each season takes about 20 years, the length of a generation. Baby boomers were born in a summer, and got to be older during a winter; many of them will not be alive to see another spring, but their kids and grandkids will. Our bodies don’t usually live through four or five entire cycles. We’re in winter right now. This winter started in 2001, with the collapse of the World Trade Center, followed by the collapse of the bull market in 2002. We’re at the end of this winter cycle, and will move into spring around 2020.
rated a bit about how winters tend to create politicians who promise to make the country or community like it used to be, to play on that impulse to go back to a simpler—and warmer—time.) Winter can actually be a leapfrog moment for communities who see things differently, who think ‘winter is here but spring is coming, and when spring is here, what will be true and what will we do?’ NO’ALA: Give us an example. REBECCA: A perfect example is transportation planning. Communities are always working on 20-year transportation plans, and they are expensive plans to design and implement. Right now, as communities are doing their transportation plans, how many of them do you think are looking at autonomous vehicles? None. Now leapfrog ahead—anyone paying attention will have to consider that this stuff is coming, and we have an opportunity to be ready. (Google has announced that its driverless cars will be ready in five years or less.) That’s just one example. One thing that the Shoals should consider is becoming a digital corridor, with high-speed internet. This is super important! Computers and the internet are not going away. In the same way that towns died because they didn’t have a train stop, towns will die because they don’t have high speed internet.
In a spring, things get reshuffled—and that feels fantastic for companies and communities that didn’t get frozen during the winter. During that reshuffling, the cycle favors those who were thoughtful during the winter and can actually be a leapfrog moment. Winter is a time to replant and get ready for spring, but it’s also a time when things get stuck and frozen, especially in politics. In winter, people try to go backwards to things that seem familiar and comfortable, and politics are always interesting during those times. (Rebecca elabo-
High speed wireless is the train that will not stop.
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The home of the future will not be complete without high speed internet. It’s almost like a utility—you wouldn’t build a home without plumbing or electricity; you shouldn’t build one without high speed internet, either. NO’ALA: How does that change the economic development model?
Sometimes just starting a conversation creates change.
REBECCA: High speed wireless is the train that will not stop. Internet can be thought of as a public utility—a MUST HAVE, the new plumbing for the next economic building. The days of recruiting companies with 5,000 workers are over—American’s most valuable companies have a few hundred employees, not thousands, because those days are over. For the next generation work isn’t a place to go, it’s something you do.
Directly invest in entrepreneurs
So, we have to think about place, people, and jobs differently. Get your place ready, and people will come and bring their own jobs. The communities who will come out of winter and into spring ahead of everyone else know that those large employers are few and far between. Instead, they are investing in high speed internet, and people are moving to their towns for the quality of life—and bringing their own jobs with them. These days, more and more people work from home, using the internet, and it’s the quality of life that becomes important. Communities that get it know that, and the added benefit is that your community is less at risk for an economic downturn if the large employer downsizes. NO’ALA: How would we go about doing something like that in the Shoals? REBECCA: Why don’t you do an experiment—a microproject? Carve 10 percent out of that huge economic development fund you’ve got (Rebecca is referring to the $40+ million currently reserved by the Shoals Economic Development Fund for industrial recruitment) and do a couple of things. First, invest in high speed internet. Secondly, directly invest in entrepreneurs. They are doing this in other places, especially in southwest Louisiana and Georgia—they subsidize startups, but they do it in a smart way, which gives them the opportunity to move quickly, like gazelles. In the Research
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Triangle of North Carolina, they have made a science of supporting entrepreneurs. Teach them Strategic Doing (a program currently taught at UNA’s business school) and create a $1 million angel fund, which is a pittance compared to the money you have set aside. Take a look at the fastest growing sectors in your region, and invest in the entrepreneurs. It’s a much smarter bet, because there’s momentum there, in this sector. There’s no momentum in the manufacturing sector. None at all.
Rebecca Ryan uses the familiar concept of seasons and their periods of growth, decline, and renewal to illustrate broader cycles of historical change. Below, Ryan looks back over the past century—a time of unprecedented change and tumult—and assigns to each generation one of nature’s four seasons. As you read the following paragraphs, see if you recognize how each “season” affected your parents, your grandparents, your children, your community, and yourself.
NO’ALA: What’s next for you—what’s in your future?
SPRING
REBECCA: Life on the road was starting to take a toll, so I’m flipping the model—I’m planning two events where clients come to me. The first is a Futurist Camp—a method for me to train people in how to do foresight. I want to train a group who can use these tools in their own way—through a three-day experience at a real camp, with no tech. Then, I want to invite teams of people to bring their thorny issue about the future, and we’ll figure it out. I’ll guide you through the process with a futurist’s perspective—and you go home with insight, a plan, and a process. I want to create a community of people who understand this futurist language—I want to create a tribe.
D
uring this conversation, Rebecca continuously stressed that sometimes just starting a conversation was the way to create change. No’Ala has a history of starting conversations—two years ago, it created an entire issue that revolved around the question “Why Not?” which wasn’t groundbreaking, and things didn’t change overnight, but conversations were started.
So, here’s a conversation started. Why Not shift our thinking about economic development, move away from the traditional model of industrial recruitment, and spend a small portion of our development money on the basic tools needed to attract people who can bring their jobs with them? Why not ramp up internet service, create an angel fund for entrepreneurs, and leapfrog into the approaching spring ready to compete with just about any other American city on the things people want more and more of—a good quality of life? We already have that, and it gets better every day. This seems so simple, and it could secure our place in the future. The future is now. Or it could be. Why not?
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The allies’ World War II victory brought Spring to America and lasted from 1946 to 1964. Twelve million vets, most of them members of the GI Generation (b. 1901–1925), came home from the war, birthed the Baby Boomers (b. 1946–1964), and took advantage of the GI Bill’s low-cost mortgages, business and farm loans, tuition payment, etc. The economy responded, as incomes nearly doubled, from $3,940 per year in 1946 to $6,900 in 1960. Innovations transformed daily life, allowing more Americans to reach the middle class and enjoy amenities that had once been reserved for the wealthy. By the end of the 1950s, 87 percent of all American families owned at least one TV, 75 percent owned cars, and 60 percent owned their homes.
SUMMER Ryan ties the start of Summer, a period of increased social awareness, to the 1965 Watts riots in Los Angeles. The riots sparked a renewed energy for civil rights, especially among America’s youth. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, three major movements—civil rights, women’s rights, and environmentalism—took root. Young Americans expressed themselves through clothing, music, and rebellion, and by protesting the Vietnam War. Summer lasted from 1965 through about 1980, when Ronald Reagan was elected president. These are the birth years of Generation X.
FALL Fall started during Ronald Reagan’s presidency, a time when hippies became yuppies and consumer culture replaced youth culture. During this period, longstanding institutions began to show signs of strain. Missing children’s photos were printed on milk cartons. Government scandals were exposed. Confidence in our financial systems crumbled with the farm crisis and the savings and loan meltdown. And the nuclear family, the bastion of cultural norms and the familiar safety blanket for America’s next generation, was compromised by climbing divorce rates. Fall lasted from about 1981 to 2001, the birth years of the Millennials.
WINTER Winter crashed into America when two planes hit the World Trade Center in 2001. By 2002, America’s longrunning bull market had ground to a halt. The housing bubble was born, preceding the economic meltdown of 2008 and subsequent Great Recession. A highly polarized and paralyzed Congress proved incapable of finding common ground. We have entered winter. A period when the whole country is resetting. Hibernating. Regathering. And it feels scary. Fortunately, for every February there is a March, and the next cycle of economic and cultural regeneration begins right around the corner, in 2020.
ERA OF PROMISE, BELONGING “PEACE AND PROSPERITY” 1946-1964, 2020-2040 (EST.)
“Things operate on a seasonal cycle—spring, summer, fall, winter—and each season takes about 20 years, the length of a generation.”
ERA OF EUPHORIA, DEFIANCE “SUMMER OF LOVE” 1965-1980, 2041-2062 (EST.)
—Rebecca Ryan
ERA OF SEPARATION, ANXIETY “DECLINE OF INSTITUTIONS” 1981-2000, 2063-2085 (EST.)
ERA OF SURVIVAL, REGENERATION “THE GREAT RECESSION” 2001-2019, 2086-2105 (EST.)
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text by judy hood » photos by patrick hood
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“Don’t mess with the mojo.” That became the mantra of the Muscle Shoals Music Foundation Board as they instructed the crews charged with restoring the iconic Muscle Shoals Sound Studio at 3614 Jackson Highway in Sheffield. The modest concrete building became one of the most influential recording studios in the world soon after the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section, aka the Swampers, set up shop there in 1969. Jimmy Johnson, David Hood, Roger Hawkins, and Barry Beckett dubbed the building “Muscle Shoals Sound” and attracted some of the biggest names in the business: The Rolling Stones, Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, Cher, Steve Winwood, Bob Seger, Linda Rondstadt, Rod Stewart, The Staples Singers, Cat Stevens, Dire Straits, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Levon Helm, Jimmy Cliff, and many more. In 1978, the Swampers moved out of the building into a larger facility and 3614 Jackson Highway was subsequently used for other purposes, many of which had nothing to do with music. (At one point it was an appliance store, with a used dishwasher sitting in the exact spot where Mick Jagger listened to playbacks of “Wild Horses” and a refrigerator occupying the space where David Hood played his signature bass line on “I’ll Take You There.”) In the late ’90s, an individual purchased the building and attempted to restore it as a working studio, with mixed results. The critically-acclaimed Muscle Shoals documentary, which was released in 2013, propelled the building back into the international spotlight. Soon after the film premiered, Rodney Hall (president of FAME Studio enterprises and son of music
Dr. Dre and his partner Jimmy Iovine of Beats Electronics were so captivated by the Muscle Shoals documentary that they decided to fund the renovation of 3614 Jackson Highway.
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The end result is a decidedly retro vibe that screams early ’70s—burnt orange carpet, colorful burlap ceilings, vintage tile and wood paneling. The windows, doors, light fixtures and paint colors are exactly (or very close to) the original installations.
legend Rick Hall) brokered a deal to purchase 3614 Jackson Highway and chartered the nonprofit Muscle Shoals Music Foundation to own and operate it. Extremely generous donors, including Gene Hamby of Sheffield, stepped up to provide funds for the acquisition. But the relief of knowing the iconic studio was in good hands was quickly offset by the frustration of having acquired a “fixer-upper” with no money in the bank to make it structurally sound. And then Dr. Dre saw the Muscle Shoals documentary. And loved it. In fact, Dre and his partner Jimmy Iovine of Beats Electronics were so captivated by the film that they decided to fund the renovation of 3614 Jackson Highway. Beats executive Rafferty Jackson flew to Muscle Shoals to work out the details. The building opened for tours in March 2014, drawing 29,000 visitors from 42 countries during the 18 months that followed. Hard-core music fans, undeterred by leaky ceilings, cracked walls, and crude flooring, relished the opportunity to stand in the sacred spaces where the legendary sound was produced. Shortly after Labor Day 2015, the building was closed for tours and the Beats-funded renovation began. The foundation board agreed that 3614 would be restored in a way that rendered it structurally sound but preserved the integrity (i.e., funky ambience and decor) of the original building. Les Tillery of Fuqua Architects and Drew Christopher of Craig Construction were given marching orders to restore the studio with one caveat: “Don’t mess with the mojo.” World-class acoustician Mike Cronin stepped in to assist with sound treatments. Fast forward to spring of 2016: With the help of Jimmy Johnson and David Hood, along with photographs gleaned from the Swampers and others who frequented the studio “back in the day,” the studio has been restored with meticulous attention to detail. The end result is a decidedly retro vibe that screams early ’70s—burnt orange carpet, colorful burlap ceilings, vintage tile and wood paneling. The windows, doors, light fixtures, and paint colors are exactly (or very close to) the original installations. (A few liberties were taken in the name of safety and comfort. A heating and cooling system was added, along with a state-of-the-art security system and some plumbing upgrades.) Currently, the board is finalizing plans for the operating model with an eye toward the SUN studio method, which allows for tourists by day and recording at night. I’m a sucker for happy endings. Maybe that’s why I love this one so much. The studio is restored with the mojo intact. In fact, so much passion, soul, and hard work went into this that we may have even kicked it up a notch.
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TRUST Our Reputation, Our Promise, Our Name.
Ryan Moore, First Vice President
Chip Hibbett, City President
1131 Wills Avenue, Florence • (256) 766.6300 • peoplestrustbk.com may/june | noalastudios.com |
text by roy hall photos by abraham rowe
For seven home-spun summers, Billy Reid’s Shindig has attracted fashion lovers to the Shoals for long-weekends of genrehopping music, fine art, Southern cuisine, and gorgeous garments, all carefully chosen to convey the same casual impeccability and soulfulness expressed in Reid’s designs. To help us bide the time between now and Shindig 8, commencing August 26, we spoke to the designer about the origins of Shindig, and what to expect this year.
| noalastudios.com | may/june
Let’s go back to 2009, and the very first Shindig. How did the idea originate—and who’s responsible for that fantastic name? The name just happened naturally, no reasoning or intentions; it just stuck. The idea was for us to invite people from all over the country to come and experience the rich culture of our area. From that concept, it has grown into a festival-like atmosphere that incorporates many like-minded artisans to share their creativity. Who are the sharply dressed visitors who come to town for Shindig, and how do they hear about it? The visitors are customers, friends, magazine editors, actors, musicians, artists and just cool folks that are somehow connected to us or our efforts, and they really do come from all over the world to take in the weekend. My favorite take away from Shindig is watching our local community play such a gracious host for the visitors. What impressions do you think visitors from far away take with them after spending the weekend in the Shoals? They are typically blown away. You wouldn’t expect a small town in north Alabama to have such cultural significance, and the natural beauty is something we
all take for granted sometimes. If you’re visiting, the area becomes Camelot for a weekend. An invitation to participate in Shindig must be highly coveted by musicians, food-makers, and artists. How does the selection process for bands, food vendors, and exhibitors work? We began with selecting people that inspire us and really try to work as many new people into the events as possible. We also have folks that have participated each year, so the process is sometimes hard to balance, but somehow it comes together organically. Austin Shindig is currently in its sixth year, coinciding with SXSW. Are there plans to take Shindig on the road for more appearances nationwide? We do plan to continue to curate the spirit and experiences of Shindig for other markets. Finding unique ways to connect with our customers is something we continue to support and want to expand upon. Some of us are still kicking ourselves for waiting until the last minute to buy tickets to the Alabama Shakes, before the concert sold out. Any words-to-the-wise for procrastinating ticket buyers about this year’s big act? If there’s a headliner out, we want the public to feel confident that it will be worth their while. For us, this is
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not a profit center. We simply want to provide a unique situation for our community and visitors. What all can we look forward to at Shindig 8? There will be a similar vibe to Shindig’s past, but we will be adding new events and people. Fashion will play a major role this year as we plan to bring in guest designers, trunk shows, photography exhibits and more. Along with great music and food. One final question about the Sample Sale: Is there a hidden stash of men’s 9.5 shoes somewhere? Asking for a friend… Ha! Not sure about the stash, but there will be a sample sale for sure. Thanks, Billy!
SHINDIG 8 kicks off Friday, August 26. For band and food truck listings, gallery hours, sample sale info (including size 9.5 shoes), and other Shindig-related revelry, visit billyreid.com.
| noalastudios.com | may/june
VOTE AUGUST
23
MICHELLE EUBANKS
FLORENCE CITY COUNCIL, DISTRICT 4
• Coffee High School and University of North Alabama graduate • Veteran journalist, having won statewide, regional, and national awards • Marketing Director for Shoals Hospital • Downtown Florence Unlimited board member and vice president • First Fridays publicity chairwoman • Arts Alive co-chairwoman with husband, Jeff Eubanks • University of North Alabama National Alumni Association first vice-president • First Baptist Church member and communications committee member • City of Florence Bicentennial Committee member • Coffee High School Alumni Scholarship Board member
Michelle and husband Jeff Eubanks have two daughters, Maeve, 14, an 8th-grader at Florence Middle School; and Ally, 9, who is in 4th grade at Kilby.
PAID POLITICAL ADVERTISEMENT BY THE MICHELLE EUBANKS FOR FLORENCE CITY COUNCIL COMMITTEE 1642 DECATUR AVE., FLORENCE, AL 35630
Your BizHub Watchdog
If you’re interested in controlling costs with office equipment solutions for almost any business challenge, call me. We’re the specialists, because we’re the watchdogs. —J.T. Ray
(256) 464-0010
450 Production Avenue, Madison, AL 35758
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Norbert Putnam
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Hitmaker Hi k Norbert N b Putnam, P On O the h Lore, L the h L Legends, d and the Legacy of the Shoals Sound
text by roy hall » portraits by patrick hood
Before the rock world arrived on Muscle Shoals’ doorstep beseeching its musical blessing, a group of young men, many still in high school, gathered in an upper room above a downtown Florence drugstore, to jam. Within the flash of a few short years, each of their names would be indelibly written in the history of the American Popular Songbook. One of those teenagers went on to become a multi-platinum bassist, arranger, and producer, influencing some of the 20th century’s most enduring artists. George Harrison, Joan Baez, Kris Kristofferson, Jimmy Buffet, Dan Fogelberg, and the king himself, Elvis Presley, all turned to Norbert Putnam to refine and redefine their sound. Dynamic and gregarious, on the mid-30s side of his early ’70s, Norbert Putnam sprawls, legs and arms akimbo, across a chair in his downtown Florence living room-slash-recording studio, and reminisces about how and where it all began. It really is quite the tale. And to think, it all came to pass because Norbert’s dad just happened to have a 30-year-old acoustic bass.
A Band with a Plan “When I was 15, some kids from around the Greenhill area put a band together to play Elvis and Carl Perkins,” Putnam says of the event that would change everything. The plan behind the band was as uncomplicated as its teenaged founders’ motivations were age-old: to make girls swoon. Simple, refined, uncomplicated. But there was a glitch. The founding members had lined up most of their teenage talent. They had a lead singer, the pompadoured, swaggering, Elvis Presley-wan-
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In the beginning: nabe Glen Pettus; a high hat-hitter, Carrol Quillen; a couple of guitar impresarios in-the-making; and a pianist, David Briggs—about whom, much more later.
than three seconds, and he has poor manual dexterity.” But, wait—it gets worse. Aunt Elizabeth’s prognosis? “He’ll never be a musician.”
But they lacked a bass player, until one of the kids—Danny Cross, probably—recalled a rumor he’d heard somewhere along the way involving Norbert Putnam’s dad and that old bass fiddle. Word was, Mr. Putnam used to play bass on the radio, way back in the early ’50s. If that was so, maybe Mr. Putnam still had the bass. And if he did, maybe he’d let Norbert borrow it. Word on the street was right. Putnam’s dad, a responsible, upstanding insurance salesman and family man, had indeed plucked “bull fiddle” strings to the woeful warbling of local country singer Autry Inman every Saturday morning on Muscle Shoals’ own WLAY, way back in the day. And apparently young Norbert was the only one who didn’t know it. Even more shocking, Poppa Putnam had also played the “damn thing” in the unsavory Beale Street company of “gamblers, wild women, drunks, and reefer heads.” Heady stuff, finding out your old man used to be a bassist of some renown in joints of ill repute. But the implications of his father’s talent were even more unsettling. If it were possible a bass had been lurking unseen in his family’s home right underneath his teenage nose, then might it also be possible that a career’s worth of genetically imparted talent could be lurking somewhere inside young Norbert? Probably not, according to Norbert’s aunt and piano teacher, Elizabeth. “She was 180 years old, weighed 60 pounds, and had little bony fingers,” Putnam says of the woman who briefly steered his musical career into the rocks. “I was 12,” Putnam recalls of his first foray into the arts, “and all I wanted was to learn to play Roger Williams ‘Autumn Leaves.’ One lesson in the bag, aunty Elizabeth rings up her nephew’s parents with the bad news: “I don’t think you should send Norbert back. He can’t concentrate for more
FROM HIS ARRIVAL IN MUSIC CITY UNTIL TODAY, NORBERT PUTNAM HAS BEEN INVOLVED—AS PRODUCER, BASSIST, ARRANGER, AND PRODUCER—WITH SOME OF THE BIGGEST ACTS IN THE BUSINESS.
HERE ARE JUST A FEW.
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1968 Any Day Now Joan Baez (Bass)
Putnam’s future bandmates were slightly less pessimistic about Putnam’s odds. Rockabilly, explained guitarist and high school sophomore Danny Cross, consisted of a grand total of three chords: E, A, and B7. “Surely to God you can find three notes,” Cross encouraged. Emboldened by his future bandmate’s faith in him, Norbert asked his dad for the use of his old Beale Street bass. Mr. Putnam agreed and handed the instrument down to the next generation, but along with it, some fatherly advice. “My father said to me, ‘Son, I don’t mind you taking the bass and having fun, but I want you to know, you’ll never, ever make money with it.’” The notion of making a living in the music business may have been too ridiculous to take seriously, but Dad did have a plan for his boy’s financial future: insurance. “We’re going to start an insurance agency, Norbert,” his dad declared. “Putnam and Putnam. That’s where we’ll make our fortune.”
Glen Pettus and the Rhythm Rockers The gigs came steadily that first year: high school dances, a Fourth of July bash, a Labor Day political rally in Tuscumbia. Crowds gathered. Girls swooned. Socks hopped. Everything went according to plan. But Putnam and Briggs didn’t let the grass grow beneath their tapping feet, and after a year or so with the Rhythm Rockers, they were recruited into the lucrative fraternity party circuit by a teenaged drummer, one Jerry Carrigan. Already a heckuva good musician at 15, Carrigan was in the market for a bassist and a pianist for his band, later to be known as The Mark V. The band was the money-mak-
1969 “Everything is Beautiful” Ray Stevens (Bass)
1970 Silk Purse Linda Rondstadt (Arranger, Conductor, Bass)
1970 Mancini Country Henry Mancini (Bass Fiddle)
ing brain child of Jerry’s dad, Larry, who saw dollar signs in teenage R&B bands. Every weekend, Mr. Carrigan loaded his son, his son’s friends, and all their instruments into his Ford station wagon and chauffeured The Mark V to every college fraternity party within a 150-mile radius of the Shoals. “We sported brand new, matching turquoise tuxedo jackets ordered from New York City, setting us back a cool 18 dollars each,” Putnam says of his very first work-related deduction. His second: a brand new Leo Fender electric bass, “just like James Brown and Bobby ‘Blue’ Bland bassist played.” Turquoise tuxedoes. Electric basses. Screaming co-eds. It’s the sort of thing that could get a fella noticed.
“You boys play in a band, don’cha?” Tall, skinny, with a hunched back, Tom Stafford stood out among the moviegoers exiting Tennessee Street’s Princess Theatre. The sharply dressed cinema manager greeted patrons with his trademark geniality, while his eyes carefully scanned the crowd. On the night in question, Stafford’s peeps weren’t peeled for candy smugglers or teenage sneak-ins. Instead, he was on the lookout for two young men, whom Stafford had heard play a mean frat gig. Eventually, Briggs and Putnam shuffled out of the picture show and into Stafford’s field of vision and his plot for entertainment world domination.
Above: Tom Stafford plots music world domination from his Spar Music lair above Tennessee Street. Below: Court Street’s Princess Theatre, where Tom Stafford made Norbert Putnam and David Briggs an offer they couldn’t refuse.
“We’re gonna write songs and make hit records,” Stafford informed the teens, “right here in Florence!” The how was simple. With the teenagers’ talent and Stafford’s management skills, they’d record demos of local musicians. Stafford had music industry friends in Nashville and New York City, who’d listen to anything Stafford sent them. And, yeah, sure, Stafford admitted, most of their customers wouldn’t be any good. The thing is, though, if you record enough folks, eventually you stumble on a hit.
1971 The Silver Tongued Devil and I Kris Kristofferson (Bass)
1971 Ronnie Milsap Ronnie Milsap (Bass)
1971 Blessed Are Joan Baez (Producer, Arranger, Bass)
1972 Ladies Love Outlaws Waylon Jennings (Bass)
1972 Home Free Dan Fogelberg (Producer, Cello, Bass)
1972 He Touched Me Elvis Presley (Bass)
Historic photos courtesy of Norbert Putnam
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In the beginning:
Above: THE NIGHT THEY DROVE YOUNG BAEZ DOWN—Joan Baez naps while Norbert Putnam puts the finishing touches on Blessed Are.
| noalastudios.com | may/june
Above, left: NICE WORK IF YOU CAN GET IT—Jimmy Buffett, Norbert Putnam, and James Taylor, during a recording session in Montserrat. Above, right: Norbert Putnam performs in an Elvis tribute concert.
© Tom Corcoran
© Robert Rausch
Clockwise from top left: Producer Jimmy Nutt and Norbert Putnam; Dan Fogelberg and Norbert Putnam in the control room; Back row, left to right: David Briggs, Norbert Putnam, Elvis Presley, Al Pachucki, Jerry Carrigan; Front row, left to right: Felton Jarvis, Chip Young, Charlie McCoy and James Burton; Donnie Fritts, Kris Kristofferson, and Norbert Putnam
Historic photos courtesy of Norbert Putnam
may/june | noalastudios.com |
In the beginning: “We thought he was delusional,” Putnam says. Stafford’s terms of employment weren’t any more reassuring. In exchange for Putnam’s and Briggs’ services at the newly established Stafford Publishing and Recording (or SPAR), the bassist and pianist would never have to pay for a movie ticket again. How could a teenager refuse?
SPAR-ring Partners
© Marvin Green, courtesy of FAME Studios
SPAR occupied a second floor suite of empty offices at the corner of Tennessee and Seminary in downtown Florence, right above the City Drug Store, where Tom Stafford’s dad served as pharmacist. To sweeten the deal, Stafford used his pharmacy connections to offer his young friends an occasional swig of codeine cough syrup, chased with a sip of Coca-Cola. (Judge not; remember, those were the days when cigarettes were good for you.)
Spar Music, at the corner of Tennessee and Seminary Streets
Pianist Briggs and bass-player Putnam climbed the stairs to SPAR most days after school and on weekends, along with guitarist Terry Thompson and drummer Jerry Carrigan. Together, they were the Shoals’ very first rhythm section. At the top of the steps, the neophyte musicians found two rooms—which one looked less reputable was anybody’s guess. The first room was a makeshift studio, featuring a hole cut into the wall between it and the adjacent space, which served as control room, complete with sound-enhancing egg crates on the wall.
My father said to me, ‘Son, I don’t mind you taking the bass and having fun, but I want you to know, you’ll never, ever make money with it.’” —Norbert Putnam
It was the Shoals’ on-the-cheap version of New York City’s Brill building, and lounging on the threadbare sofa or plunked down in a chair shooting the breeze were the best undiscovered songwriting talent in the Shoals. The worst, too. “Guys came in with the most horrible songs you ever heard,” Putnam says, laughing. The plan was to re-
1973 Quiet Places Buffy Sainte-Marie (Producer, Bass)
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1973 The Adventures of Panama Red New Riders of the Purple Sage (Bass)
1974 That’s a Plenty The Pointer Sisters (Bass)
1976 Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 Linda Rondstadt (Arranger, Harpsichord, Bass)
1977 Nether Lands Dan Fogelberg (Producer, Bass, String Arrangements)
1977 Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes Jimmy Buffett (Producer, String Arrangements)
cord every Tom, Dick, and Harry, with the hope that one of them would deliver gold. For a gang of rag tag novices with nothing but dry wall and egg cartons between them, Tennessee Street, and obscurity, the boys of SPAR were only a couple of years away from putting the Shoals music scene on the map; they just didn’t know it yet. What they did know, as of mid-1959, was that SPAR had a decent rhythm section that got better with every passing day, and a docket full of mostly bad, semi-profitable small town singer-songwriters willing to shell out a few bucks on the chance of becoming a star. SPAR and Stafford also had two new partners: saxophonist Billy Sherrill, and Sherrill’s bandmate, a Tishomingo County, Mississippi, native by the name of Rick Hall. “Rick was the first real producer I ever played for,” Putnam says. “I’ll always be grateful for his constant demand to ‘play it different.’ He taught us all to look for a new, original way to play a song.”
“[David] Briggs would sit at the piano, and Arthur would stand over him,” Putnam recalls. “As Arthur sang the melody, Briggs would play various chords, looking for the ones Arthur was hearing in his head. Arthur would say ‘No, no, not that one, the other one!’ Over and over, they’d play until all the chords and melody rang true.” In 1962, Alexander, backed by Putnam, Briggs, and rest of the rhythm section, got it Billboard-Hot-100 right, with “You Better Move On,” the first hit single produced in the Shoals, recorded at the newly christened FAME studios in Muscle Shoals. (Hall and his SPAR partners, Stafford and Sherrill, parted ways the year before. Pegging the unknown Alexander as a hitmaker right off the bat, Hall made Alexander his premier act at the newly christened FAME.) Putnam can’t recall exactly how many takes Alexander and the rhythm section required before Hall pronounced their first single finished. “I know there were a lot,” Putnam reckons. Dozens, probably, with Hall in the control room. “Eventually, Rick motioned us in,” Putnam says. The result turned out to be “the most exciting musical experience of my young life.”
By 1960, they’d also have a recording artist who would alter all of their destinies.
Billboard, Bandstand, and The Beatles Arthur Alexander and the road to FAME “Without Arthur Alexander, I don’t think the Shoals music scene would have happened.” That’s Putnam’s evaluation of the handsome, dynamic, and ridiculously talented Alexander, whose single “You Better Move On” put the Shoals music scene on the map. When he wasn’t working as a porter at a downtown Sheffield hotel, Arthur Alexander wrote songs. And on a fortuitous day for any musician who ever borrowed some of Muscle Shoals’ musical mojo and ran with it all the way up the charts, Alexander brought some of those songs to SPAR.
1978 Son of a Son of a Sailor Jimmy Buffett (Producer, Bass)
1982 Let’s Go The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (Producer)
1984 Windows and Walls Dan Fogelberg (Bass)
Hall hit the road, single in hand, on the hunt for a label interested in releasing it. After much finagling in the country music capital of the world, Hall wheeled-and-dealed his way to Nashville’s Dot Records, home of superstar Pat Boone, where he finally found a taker for Alexander’s soulful single. With the support of a bona fide record label and DJ enthusiasm, “You Better Move On” ascended the pop charts to the top 20, selling around 700,000 copies along the way. One of those copies found its way to a mom-andpop record store in Liverpool, England, where it was discovered by Brian Epstein, who passed it along to his good friend, a fledgling singer-songwriter by the name of John Lennon.
1985 Songs You Know By Heart Jimmy Buffett (Producer)
1986 Twenty Years of Dirt The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (Producer)
1987 Classics, Vol. 8 Joan Baez (Producer)
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In the beginning: “Back in the mid-’70s,” Putnam recalls, “I produced some recordings for Dark Horse Records at George Harrison’s estate in England.” Tucked away, forgotten, in a corner of Dark Horse, Putnam discovered an old juke box. Inside it, Putnam’s eyes lighted on a dusty copy of Dot record’s 1962 hit, “You Better Move On.” The “B” side, “Get a Shot of Rhythm and Blues,” written by Terry Thompson, was one of Lennon’s favorites, according to Harrison. Lennon was so enamored with Arthur Alexander’s voice, the “Imagine” singer spent hours trying to mimic his style. Lennon learned quickly enough there was only one Arthur Alexander, but The Beatles did manage to pay tribute to Alexander by recording his work. So did the Rolling Stones. In fact, Arthur Alexander, the bellhop from Sheffield, is the only songwriter with the distinction of having his music recorded by both the Stones and The Beatles. But before Brian Epstein could hand it to John Lennon, “You Better Move On” had to find its way to the radio. Sometime in 1962, it did. “Fritts calls me up one day,” Putnam says, referring to his longtime friend, legendary Shoals musician Donnie Fritts. “‘It’s on the radio, he says.’ ‘What’s on the radio?’ I ask. “‘You Better Move On!” It’s on heavy rotation on WLAY,’ says Fritts.” Fritts hopped in his convertible, swung by Putt’s house, and the two made a beeline to “the circuit,” for an impromptu lis-
tening party. The circuit, as anybody who spent his teenage years in the Shoals in the 1950s knows, referred to a route beginning at the top of Florence’s Court Street, stretching down to the river and back again, over and over. It was what kids used to do on Saturday night, when gas was a quarter a gallon and people talked to each other in person. For a song in heavy rotation, it took long enough for the DJ to get around to Alexander’s single. Or maybe it was just nervous anticipation, making a mockery out of time. Finally, after what felt like an eternity—“BAM!”—Putnam’s bass came pouring out of his friend’s speakers, no more than a couple blocks away from the Princess Theatre, where Tom Stafford had hired him for free movie tickets and swigs of cough syrup. “It sounded great,” Putnam says. “Carrigan’s high hat sparkling. Briggs banging the keyboards. And Arthur is killing it.” That’s what it sounded like. What did it feel like to hear your very own music coming out of your best friend’s speakers, while cruising the main drag in your hometown? “Like the first transmission from Mars,” Putnam says. Transcendent. Otherworldly. And here, funny, effervescent Putnam takes a turn for the serious. “It validated a lot of things for all of us,” Putnam says. “I don’t think any of us believed our playing would ever amount to anything,” Then, suddenly, out of thin air, legitimacy arrived in the form of a hit single. It was what they call a game changer.
Rick was the first real producer I ever played for. I’ll always be grateful for his constant demand to ‘play it different.’ He taught us all to look for a new, original way to play a song.” —Norbert Putnam, on Rick Hall’s influence
1989 Known Only To Him Elvis Presley (Bass)
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1991 The Essential Marty Robbins Marty Robbins (Bass)
1992 Boats, Beaches, Bars, and Ballads Jimmy Buffett (Producer)
1993 Rare, Live and Classic Joan Baez (Producer)
1994 Amazing Grace: His Greatest Sacred Songs Elvis Presley (Bass)
1995 Walk a Mile in my Shoes: The Essential 70s Masters Elvis Presley (Arranger)
Suddenly, the world got a whole lot bigger, while choices got a whole lot easier, at least for Putnam and Briggs. “We were 19 and going to Florence State. At that point, our biggest problem was making good grades. The plan was for me to go into insurance, and [David] Briggs to become a cattle rancher. So those were our options: insurance and animal husbandry, or fame and fortune?” Putnam asks laughing. It’s not the kind of quandary that makes Hamlets out of young men.
The Aftermath
screamed for them so loudly, we were almost embarrassed to go on after,” Roe lamented. The Beatles had made a name for themselves on the continent by scattering swooning females in their wake in numbers Glen Pettus and the Rhythm Rockers could only dream of. But they’d yet to be introduced to America. That was all set to change in a few months, Roe said, with a much ballyhooed concert to be televised live from Washington D.C. Concert organizers had dispatched Roe to the Shoals with an invitation for Putnam and his rhythm section bandmates to back-up The Beatles opening acts, including the Righteous Brothers, a rhythm section favorite.
The popularity of “You Better Move On” led to an invitation for Alexander to appear on American Bandstand. But the career maker of an invitation carried with it a big problem. Alexander had never flown before, and he needed a bit of liquid convincing before he’d agreed to board the airliner. “We had to ply Arthur with alcohol to get him on that plane to Philadelphia,” Putnam confesses.
“We were so naive,” Putnam admits. “We thought, ‘This is great! We get to play for the Righteous Brothers!’”
It worked, and the following day, March 14, 1962, Putnam and the rest of the rhythm section gathered around Putnam’s TV, rabbit ears pointed toward the sky, just in time to hear Dick Clark say, “And now, from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, Arthur Alexander, performing his smash hit single, ‘You Better Move On.’”
“Roe comes into the studio carrying a tape the summer before,” Putnam says. “Tells us it’s this band from England, and everybody is wild for them.” Roe hands the tape to Rick Hall. Rick pushes play, and out comes, first, “Paul McCartney starts singing, and he’s out of tune. Then a guitar comes in, and it’s also out of tune. Finally, they all join in, and the harmony is out of tune,” Putnam recalls.
If Putnam and his mates needed any further convincing they had the Midas touch, it came decisively in the form of an invitation from Atlanta-based bubble gum pop heart throb, Tommy Roe. Roe had made a habit of recording his albums in the Shoals every summer for years, and in the summer of 1963, he arrived at FAME with new material, and an invitation. Roe had been on tour in Europe, where he’d had the misfortune of having as his opening act a little upstart pop outfit that went by the unlikely name, The Beatles. “The crowd
1996 Greatest Hits Joan Baez (Producer)
1998 Nashville Was the Roughest Willie Nelson (Bass, Leader)
2003 The Essential Dan Fogelberg Dan Fogelberg (Producer, Bass)
By that point in pre-British Invasion history, The Beatles were still an unknown quantity state-side. But not entirely unknown to the rhythm section, who had heard a sneak peak of the Liverpoolians work the previous summer, again via Roe.
The Beatles one chance to make a good first impression, and they blew it. “But the lyrics were the worst part,” according to Putnam. So trite. So vapid. So bland. “Something about wanting to hold somebody’s hand….” Inauspicious introductions aside, the chance to fly to D.C. and open for the Righteous Brothers was way too good a chance to pass up, even if the bill included a performance by the underwhelming Beatles.
2004 The Essential Kris Kristofferson Kris Kristofferson (Producer, Bass)
2008 One Hell of a Ride Willie Nelson (Bass)
2009 Dolly Dolly Parton (Bass)
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In the beginning:
Roe comes into the studio carrying a tape the summer before. Tells us it’s this band from England, and everybody is wild for them. Paul McCartney starts singing, and he’s out of tune. Then a guitar comes in, and it’s also out of tune. Finally, they all join in, and the harmony is out of tune. But the lyrics were the worst part. Something about wanting to hold somebody’s hand.” —Norbert Putnam, on his first exposure to The Beatles
Heart throb and Beatles connection, Tommy Roe, center with guitar, and surrounded clockwise (left to right) by Jerry Carrigan, Rick Hall, Elvis producer Felton Jarvis, Ray Stevens, David Briggs, and Norbert Putnam.
2016 The Fogelberg Tribute Album Garth Brooks, Donna Summer, Train, The Eagles, Boz Scaggs, Jimmy Buffett, Vince Gilly and Amy Grant, Michael MacDonald, Randy Owens, Zak Brown, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (Executive Producer)
Historic photos courtesy of Norbert Putnam
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February 11, 1964. The arena is packed. The cameras are rolling. And the natives are beyond restless. “Concert organizers had mandated concessions sales of Coke and jellybeans only,” Putnam says. If the intention was to provoke pure, unadulterated, sugar-fueled, estrogen-driven, hysterical teenage bedlam, it worked. D.C. cops, ten to each side, escorted Putnam and his bandmates from the rear of the arena to the stage through the teeming, screaming throngs. “The Righteous Brothers were fantastic,” Putnam reports. Not that the crowd noticed. In fact, “They seemed relieved when we were finished.” Naturally, the end of the Righteous Brothers meant the beginning of The Beatles, and as his bandmates began their perilous journey back through the crowd, now practically blotto with hysteria, Putnam grabbed Briggs by the arm, “Let’s stay behind and film some of the show.” Putnam and Briggs had brought along two Kodak Brownie 8mm movie cameras with them to D.C., and with best friend Briggs at his side, he crouched directly below Lennon and McCartney, and captured in all its awe-inspiring Technicolor glory one of the most iconic performances in modern entertainment history.
You Really Better Move On If you can’t keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen the lights of Paris, what are the odds they’ll stick around after they’ve opened for The Beatles? And so, perhaps inevitably, with the encouragement of Nashville heavy-hitters like Elvis producer Felton Jarvis, the Muscle Shoals rhythm section said goodbye to their hometown and hit the road to Nashville later that year. Tragically, they also say goodbye to their dear friend, the rhythm section’s original guitarist, Tommy Thompson, who died much too young. Within one year, SPAR would be history, FAME would be ascendant, and Muscle Shoals would have the Swampers. Within one more year, Norbert Putnam, Jerry Carrigan, and David Briggs would be counted among Nashville’s top session musicians.
And by 1970, five years after his arrival in Music City, Putnam would stumble into a career as one of Nashville’s most successful record producers, at the ripe old age of 28. There were no lean years spent busking on the sidewalk outside the Ryman Auditorium or suffering odd jobs while waiting for the phone to ring. The phone started ringing immediately in the former rhythm section’s tiny Music Row apartment, and it kept on ringing, with producers for Henry Mancini, Roy Orbison, and Elvis Presley. “It was frightening,” Putt admits. “We [himself, Briggs, and Carrigan] weren’t playing as a section most of the time. The other musicians we were working with weren’t familiar. I had to relate to new players, and I had five minutes to figure it all out.” The “all” Putnam had five minutes to figure out refers to the complex musical charts, ones the other session musicians were already old pros at deciphering in a flash. They’d come in—instrument in one hand, cup of coffee in the other—glance over a chart, then play it perfectly, right off the bat. Putnam took the learning curve at full speed, and by 1970, he was booking 600 sessions a year. “If you were one of the top four bassists, you were in the first call list for most everybody,” Putnam says of the demand that met him in Nashville. The shock of hearing himself on the radio suddenly seemed quaint. “Eighty percent of Nashville’s output had one of us former rhythm section members on it,” Putnam says. And the money wasn’t bad either. Putnam reckons he was earning as much as a doctor within a year or two. But it wasn’t all glitz and glamor. The rewards his considerable talent and discipline were now reaping came with a cost: the hours were outrageous, expectations were high, and basses are damn heavy. Burn-out loomed. Luckily for Putnam, a fork was about to appear in the career road ahead, although he wouldn’t see it coming. Putnam’s career change would not involve any more premeditation than his first career as a bass player had. His dad owned a bass, so Putnam became a bass player. Kris Kristofferson had a little too much to drink, so Putnam became a producer. At some point amid the whoosh of those late ’60s session recordings, Putnam found himself in the midst of a 12-
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In the beginning: hour work day at Columbia Studios, when an “unkempt and homeless looking” bearded guy shuffled in and started emptying ashtrays. It was Kris Kristofferson, studio janitor. “You’d never know it to look at him, but, as we found out later on, he was a Rhodes Scholar,” Putnam says of Kristofferson, who, like every other person in Nashville with a beard and worn out jeans, wanted to be a songwriter. Putnam’s a nice guy, so when Kristofferson asked him over a beer if he’d please play bass, gratis, in an upcoming demo session, Putnam agreed. “He wasn’t a great singer,” Putnam admits of the recording session. But we already know that. He was, however, a great songwriter, as anybody who’s ever heard “Me and My Bobby McGee” also already knows. What you’d never guess is that the talented, whip-smart, moviestar-good-looking Kristofferson was a bit shy, a fact that would, in time, do wonders for Putnam’s unexpected producing career. A few years passed. Kristofferson became famous. Putnam and Kristofferson became friends. Then, Kristofferson and folk goddess Joan Baez became friends via their mutual acquaintance, Putnam. So it’s Putnam Baez turned to when she arrived to record her seminal 1971 album, Blessed Are, to find her good friend and album producer, Kristofferson, three sheets to the wind. “I found Kris in the corner. He’d had a little too much to drink,” as Putnam delicately puts it. Much to Kristofferson’s relief, and Putnam’s initial refusal, Baez reassigned producer credit on the spot to the now-former-bassist.
studio. The ones who could carry a note, Putnam placed up front; the most tone deaf and/or wasted, he stuck in the back. (The next time you’re listening to “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” and the chorus kicks in, remember, those goosebumps are the product of a bunch of drunk, out-ofwork songwriters.)
Summoned to the Throne “Baez has never sold more than a couple hundred thousand copies of anything,” Columbia Records chief, Clive Davis, told Putnam at the label’s New York City headquarters. “Suddenly, Blessed Are sells a million and a half copies in six months?” If Davis was waiting for an explanation, he was out of luck. Nobody was as surprised as Norbert Putnam over Norbert Putnam’s sudden producing success. And nobody wanted to be put in charge of the entire Columbia folk roster less than Putnam, which was what Davis proposed next, and why the biggest guy in the music biz had summoned Putnam to his Manhattan penthouse suite in the first place. “It was my idea of hell.” That’s how Putnam sizes up the prospect of spending his next few years shepherding folk musicians. Trouble was, Clive Davis wasn’t used to hearing no a lot, and he was none too thrilled to hear Putnam’s. So the two arrived at a compromise. Putnam would take on a single act of Davis’s choosing. If all went well, maybe he’d agree to more. Terms and conditions settled, Davis told Putnam about a singer from the Midwest who needed some special attention. “Name of Dan Fogelberg.”
“I can read musicians. I know how to make them comfortable. And intuitively, I usually know what a song needs.” That’s producing in a nutshell, according to Putnam, and why he was able to master the craft so quickly. Case-inpoint: “We’re right in the middle of recording “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” and I tell Joan, ‘Something is missing. We need a chorus.’” “Fine. But we don’t have a chorus,” Baez countered. “There’s a hallway full of drunk songwriters out there, just waiting to sing for you,” Putnam improvises. The songwriters, who had spent the afternoon imbibing complimentary cocktails while waiting for a chance to shove their undiscovered masterpieces under Baez’s nose, get wrangled into the
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“I’m 28, and I sold out to become Nashville’s folk/rock producer of the 1970s.” Putnam is kidding, mostly, about the selling-out part. The bit about Nashville’s folk/rock producer of the ’70s is the stone cold truth. Most of the really great stuff was recorded at Quadrafonic Studios, a hit-making factory Putnam and his old friend David Briggs opened in 1971. The famous names, the hit records, the great songs that sprang out of Quadrafonic are all too many to mention. And so are the stories. “Jimmy Buffett comes to me,” Putnam says, of a day at Quad sometime in the early ’70s. “Wants to record some songs about the ocean. I tell him, ‘Jimmy, when Dan Fogelberg
wanted to record a song about the mountains, I recorded him in the mountains. You want to write about the ocean? Let’s go to Miami.’” Buffett considered the idea, spent a few weeks on the beach, and returned with some lyrics about “blown out flip-flops and lost salt.” Putnam says of the song’s title, “When Jimmy mentioned calling it “Margaritaville,” I thought, ‘What a terrible title for a song.’ Boy, did he prove me wrong!” And the hits just kept coming—including unexpected ones of the “Margaritaville” variety—until 1980, when Putnam and Briggs sold Quadrafonic, and Putnam embarked on a half-hearted, miserable attempt at early retirement, which continues to this day. Putnam has spent the intervening years playing tribute concerts to his old friend Elvis here and all over Europe, designing and directing The Delta Music Institute at Delta State University, serving as distinguished lecturer at the University of Southern Mississippi’s School of Mass Communication and Journalism, and, along with his wife, Sheryl, working on
architectural restoration projects throughout Mississippi, Tennessee, and Alabama. Currently, he’s putting the finishing touches on a Dan Fogelberg tribute album he’s producing, featuring original performances from friends like Garth Brooks, Donna Summer, and the Eagles, among others. Later this year, his autobiography, Music Lessions, is scheduled to be released. And since we’re name dropping, why not go out with a bang. Elvis Aaron Presley. Putnam and Elvis played together on 122 tracks from 1970 until shortly before the king’s death in ’77. Somewhere along the way, the king asked his buddy “Putt” how he got to be such an ace bassist. So Putt tells Elvis about an Elvis cover band, from way back in 1950s Florence, Alabama, called Glen Pettus and the Rhythm Rockers. “You know, Elvis, your early songs were pretty easy to learn. Just three chords: E, A, and B7.” And anybody can find three chords.
© Create Portraiture
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Hairstylist & Makeup Artist
256.394.8168 JanaeBurnside@gmail.com
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“If I have someone who believes in me, I can move mountains.” —Diana Ross
SHONTAE JOHNSON AS DIANA ROSS
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photos by robert rausch » assisted by anna lyle styling by tara bullington makeup by janae burnside » hair by dwight cox special thanks to sommer hamilton, trinity episcopal church, rick wooten, morgan price candy company, court street market, muscle shoals sound studio, yummies bakery and deli, thread
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DIVAS FOR A DAY Recently, we invited eight of our most ravishing friends to play dress-up as eight of our most timeless style icons. Chic and sophisticated, sassy and outrageous, the eight women portrayed here represent the most influential looks from the past eight decades. Their portraits, each inspired by an iconic photograph, are the work of GAS Studio founder and New York Times-contributing photographer Robert Rausch, to whom we are immensely grateful. As always, every element—clothing, gems, jewels, makeup, hair, styling, and photography—represent the talent and diversity of local artists, businesses, and boutiques. Stars may fall on north Alabama. But North Alabama launches just as many stars.
See page 116 for where to buy
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“The problem with people who have no vices is that generally you can be pretty sure they’re going to have some annoying virtues.” —Elizabeth Taylor
ASHLEY BEADLE AS ELIZABETH TAYLOR
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“God gave women intuition and femininity. Used properly, the combination easily jumbles the brain of any man I’ve ever met.” —Farrah Fawcett
LYNDSIE MCCLURE AS FARRAH FAWCETT
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“Elegance is the only beauty that never fades.” —Audrey Hepburn
JORDYN DEAN AS AUDREY HEPBURN
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“If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.” —Katharine Hepburn
BRANDI MCGUYER AS KATHARINE HEPBURN
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News, classical music and more 88.7 FM Muscle Shoals • 100.7 FM Huntsville www.apr.org may/june | noalastudios.com |
While Catherine Middleton’s marital vow to remain true to Prince William “for richer or poorer” may sound a bit quaint, her oath is more remarkable for a word it doesn’t contain: obey. Middleton is the first consort in British history not to swear obedience to her husband and future king.
ASHLEY HASELTON AS CATHERINE, DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE
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Besides my children, work has kept me comparatively sane after living through some appalling times. —Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis
JEANNE REID AS JACQUELINE KENNEDY ONASSIS
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If you could turn back time, you’d see that Cher’s 3614 Jackson Highway, whose cover art serves as our inspiration, was the first album ever recorded at the Muscle Shoals Sound Studio.
JESSIE CHILDERS AS CHER
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scene
Amy Collins
Zack O’Bryant, Christopher Joel Carter IV, and Brent Barnes John Cartwright Jennifer Stubblefield and Deborah Stubblefield
Bailey Rihner Sarah Gillis, Bethany Green, and Jason Allen
Jessie Bower
Anne Ryan and Grant Cavin © Abraham and Susan Rowe
Above: Florence Wine Fest march , · downtown florence
Below: Fringes: UNA Adjunct Faculty Art Show Reception april , · university art gallery, una, florence
Shannon Wells Roz Whatley, Melissa Cantrell, and Mary Bullington Christi Britten and Tara Bullington Chiong-Yao Chen and Michelle Davis
Malachai and Abraham Rowe
JP Pajaron and Wayne Sides
* Names for photos are provided by the organization or business featured.
JP Pajaron, Jennifer Tran, and Michael Meigs
Tara Bullington, Michelle Davis, and Robert Rausch Photos by Roy Hall and Tara Bullington
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Late last year, No’Ala began a serial story about Eleanor, the woman who murdered her husband and asked her hairdresser and his partner to help bury him in the backyard. Each month, Shoals area writers have helped us tell this bizarre and interesting tale; last month, Debra Dombrowski-Hendrix told a story of a loyal friend whose ingenious act of revenge could actually punish the men who ultimately revealed Eleanor’s murder. Through the words of 12 Shoals-area writers, we’ll continue to tell this tale, one chapter per issue, until you know these Southern characters as if you were related to them. If you missed the first five installments, well, bless your heart—just go to www.noalastudios.com and get caught up, now, you hear? Is it possible that Eleanor’s other husbands might have met fates in a similar way? There might not be bodies in the back bedroom, but in this installment writer Amy Greer Cruce hints that there might be more to Eleanor than we originally thought. Please remember that this is a work of fiction and does not represent actual people, living or dead (although truth can be stranger than fiction). Enjoy!
a Favor for Eleanor Chapter Six: Billy Two by amy greer cruce » illustrations by rowan finnegan
Eleanor’s mind flew through her thoughts, the drugs scrambling places and memories. She took a deep breath and felt her chest rise. ”Good,” she thought. “I’m not dead yet.” She drifted again, her frail frame powerless to fight the sedatives. She wasn’t exactly sure what day it was, or how much longer she had until her 30-day psychological evaluation ended, but she knew the trial was over and she didn’t have to face the idiots in the courtroom again. “The very idea,” she thought. “The VERY idea, treating me like that and blaming me for what happened. If those tacky Kenneth-wannabes had just kept their mouths shut and buried that damn body, I’d be ordering balsam wreaths and planning my Atlanta trip to get something new for my Christmas parties. Instead, I’m stretched out here like Lily Herbert Peach’s cross-stitch on a wooden hoop, missing a couple of stitches.” She moved restlessly and instead of the broken old body that chained her to the bed these days, she was young and strong and laughing with Billy when they first were married. She saw him as he was then…lithe and elegant like a racehorse. “He’d have been a lot better off appreciating what he had,” she mused, “instead of taking up with that common Baptist preacher’s daughter from out in the county. Lay down with dogs…just see what happens.” The parties and football weekends had been good when they married; the country club throwdowns that necessitated weekly shopping trips to Birmingham had
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A Favor for Eleanor Chapter Six: Billy Two
helped make them the couple-everyone-wanted-to-be. Eleanor’s successful plastic surgeries made her legend, and if maybe she and Billy hadn’t done a lot of talking, they were extremely compatible elsewhere and best she could figure, no one ever said you had to be soulmates with your spouse.
And here it was—two years after he had taken his common little secretary and moved out—a leftover Q-tip. In her prize gardenias. Lurking there, taunting her, reminding her. Nope, she thought, this won’t happen. Will not do. And the seed was set.
“Take it where you can get it,” she pondered to herself. “Take it where you can get it.”
It took two more years before Eleanor acted on her impulse, which meant it wasn’t so much an impulse as a preordained useful deed, she always told herself. In hindsight, it had been so simple that she wondered why she’d never thought of it before. Billy One always kept trail mix in his car, and he bought it from the farmer’s market over across the river. Since every Tom, Dick, and Harry in a four-county radius traded there plus a couple of strays from over in Iuka, who was to say where the bag in Billy One’s car came from? So Eleanor ground up a cup of the peanuts he was so allergic to, mixed them with some peanut butter for extra killpower and a Rolaids to ease the passage, and then stirred in some flour to help shape the balls. The day she slipped the lethal tidbits into the bag in his car while he was playing his Wednesday afternoon round, she took a moment to reminisce about the night they had shared a bottle of Dom with grillades and grits at Brennan’s in New Orleans on their honeymoon. The people at the table next to them were tourists, unfamiliar with the food and the traditions, and she and Billy had winked and held hands across the table, smug in their assurance and complicity.
When she opened her eyes again, the shadows had moved and she realized it was late afternoon. It had been late afternoon the first time she ever realized she would have to kill Billy, living out there on the lake with his common little second wife and those common bird dogs. Everyone knew that if you lived in the country, you had Labrador retrievers or beagles; it was probably written down somewhere. If it wasn’t, it should be. Instead, Billy had all those nasty bird dogs and if he didn’t mind his own reputation, the least he could have done was consider Eleanor’s. After all, she was The First Wife. Everything after that was just a letdown or a compensation wife, everyone knew that. Eleanor could still smell the fresh pine mulch that had just been spread around her prize gardenias on Walnut Street the afternoon she decided Billy needed to die. It had been cold and the buds were holding up well. Her second husband (who was named Billy, too, because when she took up with him she figured she wouldn’t have to worry about calling him by the wrong name at inopportune moments) was inside with the nanny and the baby. It still didn’t seem possible that Eleanor had a baby, but William Hagan Foster IV was here, and apparently he belonged to her. In later years, Eleanor had never been entirely sure that the shock to her system of having that baby hadn’t unbalanced her mind, but in hindsight she always decided that no, it was the Q-tips. Leaning over to scoop a bit of mulch closer to one of her prize gardenia trunks and away from the false anemone, Eleanor felt her stomach lurch when there in the damp black earth she touched a rotted Q-tip. “Dear Lord, Billy,” she had told Billy One, told him from the first day she had seen him do it. “Do NOT walk out of this house with a Q-tip in your hand, digging in your ears, and then throw it down in my prize gardenias. Don’t. Just don’t.” “Relax, Eleanor,” he had told her. “Compost.”
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Billy should have at least given a token nod to better times, she thought, before he started dumping Q-tips in my prize gardenias. She shook the bag up before she left, swirling it around to mix the nuggets. She heard he died before help came. She had loved him dearly, but this just wouldn’t do. She wondered if anyone fed those nasty bird dogs that night. Eleanor raised no objections when the common second wife buried Billy in her family plot out at Second Creek. Served him well enough, Eleanor had decided—you’ll spend the rest of eternity with an ugly widow and plastic flowers on your grave come Decoration. What goes around…. The nurse came in and fiddled with the dials on Eleanor’s medication machine. Eleanor had no idea what they were giving her; she did know it vaguely resembled the concoction she used to drink in the 19th Hole on Friday afternoons. The coarse woven cotton blanket curled around her shoulders
That night, Auburn beat Alabama 40-0 on its way to its first National Championship and all hell broke loose. The mood in the box was ecstatic and nothing could go wrong, so when Billy Two asked her to marry him right then and there, Eleanor said yes. Somehow, there was a preacher and a justice of the peace and a judge and a jeweler wandering around at Jordan-Hare, and the next thing she knew she had gone to a football game and come out married with a six-carat solitaire weighing down her left hand.
and as she drifted off, she remembered how Shug Jordan’s hair had curled around his temples. Late in the summer after Eleanor and Billy One divorced, she met Billy Two at The Grand in Point Clear on a girls’ trip with her tennis group. Billy Two was older, handsome, assured, and a big Auburn alum with a lot of connections, which provided a lovely opportunity for Eleanor to stick it to Billy One with his Bama roots. Billy Two’s family owned a lot of land in south Alabama, had owned it since before The War of Northern Aggression, and later on (after his father’s unexpected death and his graduation from Lyman Ward) Billy Hagan had moved into the century-old Greek Revival and commenced to managing his family’s assets. “That boy was conceived on my wedding night,” Eleanor thought. “He had to have been. Everything else that happened that night was ridiculous.” Billy Two had taken her to the Iron Bowl on their third date. It was 1957 and he had sent her to Neiman Marcus in Dallas to buy new luggage for the trip the weekend before, so it was a given that this was a charmed excursion. Billy Two’s son from his first marriage, Billy Junior, played quarterback for the Auburn Tigers, and when Eleanor and Billy Two hit The Plains, they were treated like royalty. Eleanor basked in the attention, and when the Jack and Coke came out, she didn’t even make a fuss that there was no Waterford. “Let the good times roll,” she’d told herself. “Or flow,” she’d giggled, as the night wore on.
At the time, the big raw-boned country boy had been the man of her dreams, and his beach house and plantation house with its full staff had only reinforced her gratification. In later years, Eleanor had questioned whether or not she was legally married, but since Shug Jordan had shown up the next morning to congratulate them and share the lavish champagne brunch their new friends had pulled together at the last minute, she figured she was safe. Unfortunately, she decided Billy Two wasn’t going to do the night he used one of her repoussé butter knives to change the cleats in his golf shoes. This time there was no hesitation or second thoughts about his dying because there was no time in her life that Eleanor intended to be married to anyone trashy enough to use a piece of sterling that had been handed down for three generations to perform cobbler tasks. Swapping out his blood pressure medication was a breeze; making sure all his favorite foods were on the side board for the entire Thanksgiving week was easy, and inviting his best heavy drinking buddies over every night guaranteed that all the delicacies from their trip up the Bourbon Trail were sampled. He died during the night, and if Eleanor heard him gasping for breath, no one ever knew it. She had loved him dearly, but he just wouldn’t do. She didn’t remarry for five years. Archie Dauterive was roasting oysters at an LSU tailgate party in 1970 the first time Eleanor laid eyes on him. She wanted him so bad she didn’t return his calls for six months, didn’t go out with him for six more months, and didn’t sleep with him for another six months. He was different from her other husbands; an attorney from St. Martinville, Louisiana, he was educated and travelled. He was also just as easy as all the other men Eleanor had known, and when Eleanor married him underneath the Evangeline Oak, she thought that maybe this time, just maybe, this marriage would last. Maybe this boy would get it right.
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A Favor for Eleanor Chapter Six: Billy Two
And here it was—two years after he had taken his common little secretary and moved out—a leftover Q-tip. In her prize gardenias. Lurking there, taunting her, reminding her. Nope, she thought, this won’t happen. Will not do. And the seed was set.
“Call Lucille (who had gone into temporary retirement to raise her three babies) and she will handle everything. Make sure the silver is polished and the entire Flow Blue service unpacked; not sure if we’ll need the finger bowls but make sure they’re washed just in case. You can call Lily Herbert or Ida Rasch and they’ll help you with the other details. I’ll be home by 11 tonight; make sure Barry at the funeral home uses Daddy’s nice grey suit. The black one doesn’t have pick stitching on the lapels and it just won’t do.” To the day she died, Eleanor Ann McIntosh considered her daddy’s funeral to be the biggest embarrassment of her life. Archie had always thought he was better than everyone, with his Louisiana heritage and his law degree and his European holidays. When Eleanor walked into the Thornton-Ellis funeral home, the first thing she realized was that the music was all wrong…all wrong. No one was singing “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” the lines from “Abide with Me” weren’t resonating, and “Jesus, Saviour, Pilot Me” was nowhere to be heard. Instead, some fool with an accordion was bouncing around behind the floral arrangements and Archie Dauterive was blind running drunk, holding a drink in a blue Solo cup and standing beside her daddy’s casket. Then, Eleanor’s daddy died in 1973 when he had a heart attack on the long par five by the water. He was dead before he hit the ground, although he took care not to let his persimmon wood fall into the hazard. Eleanor was at a private clinic in California, “taking a rest,” and when the call came the first thing she did was charter a private plane to DFW. She called her personal shopper at Neiman’s, explained her dilemma, and when she stepped out of the courtesy limo at the flagship store, everything she needed for her daddy’s funeral and her period of mourning was waiting for her approval. En route she had called Archie and given him instructions…
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Why the roof didn’t cave in, Eleanor never understood. Later on, when Eleanor realized there were paper napkins on the buffet table and the green bean casseroles and congealed salads were in Corningware, she asked Archie if he had called Grisham’s Catering, which would have explained the disaster. (Grisham’s Catering and Chainsaw Repair, she had always thought of it in her mind.) When he laughed and said he didn’t think anyone in River City would notice? It was all over but the shouting.
Archie Dauterive died on the Fourth of July when he fell from the cliff bordering his family’s mountain retreat in the Highlands. No one ever figured out why he was on the mountain at two o’clock in the morning with no clothes on, and since Eleanor was the only other person there and she was sleeping, the death was ruled accidental. Archie was buried in his family plot at Saint Michael Cemetery in St. Martinville, not too far from where he and Eleanor had married. Eleanor always figured the best thing she got out of that marriage was the realization that you never kill a husband in the summer time. The Louisiana heat was a bitch on her freshly styled hair, and her makeup was dripping down her face before she got to the graveside. The black linen she had overnighted from Dallas was limp before she sat down, and her pantyhose were stuck to her ankles and bunching at her knees. She had always believed summers in Tuscaloosa to be the epitome of hell—Louisiana in July must have set the bar. She never went back. After Archie’s service, Eleanor set a blue solo cup full of birdsfoot trefoil blooms on his grave. Since he was so damn smart, she reasoned, let him figure it out. She had loved him dearly, but this just wouldn’t do. After the drama of the first three husbands, Eleanor felt the need for calm and stability, and two years after Archie’s tragic accident, she married the insurance agent handling her affairs. Robert was a good and kind man and he loved Eleanor’s prize gardenias. He also did a wonderful job of handling Eleanor’s assets and she took great comfort in knowing that no matter how simple her tastes, she was provided for. She even opened an account at Tiffany’s to accommodate her simple tastes, just in case she ever found herself short come a holiday. Her life was good and for 20 years she and Robert shared a simple life, punctuated by trips abroad, visits to the Highlands home, excursions to the beach house, and weekends with Billy Hagan at his family home. Then one day, Eleanor got pellets. Hormone pellets. She also got a mid-life crisis at 70 and since it had been so easy with Billy Two, she mixed up Robert’s meds and collected the insurance policy he had so kindly provided for her to supplement the investments he had made over the years. She had loved him dearly, but this just wouldn’t do. The rest was history—a compilation of her messy lifestyle choices or, at least, column space in the River City Daily.
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food for thought » Sarah Gaede This was in the ’60s, before the meteoric rise of celebrity chefs. We learned to make the kind of meals our mothers put on the table every night.
LIGHT AND SPRINGY When I was in junior high and high school, back in the middle of the last century, I took a full academic load (except for math, from which I retired after Algebra 2 in the 10th grade.) To rest my brain once a day, I chose home economics for my elective. Back then, home ec was required for girls in the 7th and 8th grade; boys took shop. After 8th grade, instead of band, art, chorus, or gym (which I loathed, and was thrilled to be done with in 10th grade), I learned to sew (I made many of my clothes in high school, which, alas, was obvious), knit, embroider, and wrap presents. I learned how a lady should hold a cigarette (really!) and, best of all, how to cook. I also got to mingle once a day with the greaser girls, which was an enlightening experience. We had a love of the Monkees in common, but that was about it. This was in the 60s, before the meteoric rise of celebrity chefs. We learned to make the kind of meals our mothers put on the table every night—a meat, a vegetable, a starch, some kind of bread, tossed salad with iceberg lettuce and bottled dressing, and, two or three times a week, dessert, although I never thought Jell-O, even with canned mandarin orange slices, really counted. One thing we did not learn was how to put together appealing seasonal menus for entertaining, that would not only please dinner guests, but also not stress the cook. This is something that takes time to learn through trial and error. It helps to have a guru like Mark Bittman, my go-to guy for anything culinary. I’ve recommended his basic cookbook, How to Cook Everything, before. If I ever have a question about an online recipe, I go straight to Guru Mark. I also love his Minimalist columns and books. The following seasonal menu, easy on the cook and lovely for a spring dinner, features three of his recipes—fresh pea soup, roasted salmon, and strawberry fool. The pea soup is far better than I thought it would be. It is a stunning color, and tastes fresh and herbal. Unless you can find extremely fresh, sweet English peas, the frozen ones will be better and cheaper. And you don’t have to shell them. Guru Mark says this soup can be served cold, but my husband, who ate the cold leftover soup before I could try it, liked it better hot. I made mine with tarragon, but if you despise anything of the licorice variety you might be better off with mint. Order your salmon from Publix a few days in advance, and have them skin it. I pick through asparagus at the store to make sure none of them are sun-burned (sort of yellow) or have mushy tips, and are all about the same size. Publix also sells the Enchanted Rose potatoes. When Alabama strawberries are in season, this would be a great way to feature them. I might serve the dessert with LU Petit Ecolier cookies—Publix has them too. Wasn’t it clever of me to come up with a one-stop shopping menu? As for wine, a French Sauvignon Blanc, Viognier, or white Burgundy would be lovely.
Fresh Pea Soup
Fresh Asparagus
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1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 cup (about 3) thinly sliced shallots 1 large clove garlic, finely chopped 3 1/2 cups cold water (preferably filtered) 1 pound shelled fresh English peas, or 1 pound frozen 1/2 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon or mint leaves 1/2 tablespoon kosher salt 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1/4 cup half and half
Heat olive oil in heavy pot or large saucepan. Add shallots and garlic and cook over medium heat until shallots are just wilted. Add water, bring to a boil, turn down heat and simmer uncovered for 30 minutes. Add peas, tarragon, salt and pepper; return to boil. Turn down heat and simmer for 5 minutes, or until peas are tender. Remove from heat and let cool for 30 minutes. Purée with an immersion blender (or in a regular blender, in batches) until very smooth. Push through a mesh sieve into a clean pot. Discard pea skins left in sieve. Stir in half and half and add salt and pepper to taste if necessary. Can be made and refrigerated the day before. Reheat gently to serve.
1 pound asparagus 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 tablespoon butter Juice of 1/2 lemon Freshly ground pepper to taste
Cut the woody ends off the asparagus. To prepare in advance, wrap in damp paper towels, put in a plastic bag, and refrigerate. To cook, fill a large skillet about two-thirds full with cold water; season with salt. When water comes to a simmer, add asparagus, all pointing one way. Set the timer for 4 minutes. While asparagus cooks, microwave butter and lemon juice in a small dish covered with wax paper (it contains the butter explosion that often occurs). Asparagus are done when they are bright green and just starting to turn translucent on the cut ends. Remove with tongs and place on a platter—all pointing one way. (You may have a guest with OCD.) Pour melted lemon butter over asparagus, season to taste with pepper, and serve. Serves 4
Serves 4
Note: If the asparagus are really fat, they need to be peeled. Peeled asparagus are a luxury and a labor of love, but they are stunning to serve. Google if you are interested in the how-to.
Roasted Salmon
Strawberry Fool
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2 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 tablespoons good olive oil 1/4 cup chopped dill or parsley, optional Salt and freshly ground black pepper 1 2-3 pound salmon fillet, skinned Chopped dill or Italian parsley for garnish Lemon wedges for garnish
Heat the oven to 475 degrees. Line a rimmed baking sheet with heavy-duty foil. When the oven is hot, put the butter and oil on the sheet and melt in oven, about 1 minute. Don’t let it brown. Spread the butter and oil out evenly and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and optional herbs. Place the salmon in the pan skin-side down, salt and pepper lightly, and roast until it is just cooked through, 8 to 12 minutes. To see if it’s done, stick a paring knife in the center; it should be bright pink and still a little translucent. Garnish with chopped dill or parsley and lemon wedges.
1 pint very ripe strawberries 1/2 cup sugar, or to taste 1 cup heavy cream 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, optional
Hull strawberries; wash, drain, and chop into 1/4-inchthick pieces. Toss with half the sugar and wait 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they give up their juices. Place half the strawberries and all the juices in a blender or mini food processor and purée. Pour purée back into bowl with chopped strawberries. Whip the cream with remaining sugar and vanilla until cream is stiff and holds peaks easily. Fold berries and cream together and serve immediately, or put in serving dishes, cover, and refrigerate for up to 2 hours. Big martini glasses or parfait glasses would be pretty. Serves S Se Ser ve 4 ves ve
Serves 4
Boiled New Potatoes • 1 28-ounce bag Enchanted Rose or other small red new potatoes, cut in half unless they are tiny • Kosher salt and pepper to taste • 2-4 tablespoons butter • Italian parsley for garnish, optional Put potatoes in a big saucepan and cover with cold water. Add about 1 tablespoon kosher salt. Cover and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for 15 minutes, or until tender (stick a paring knife in one). Drain, return to pan over low heat, add butter and salt and pepper to taste, and shake until potatoes are coated. Toss with optional parsley before serving.
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parting shot » Robert Rausch
BRANDI MCGUYER AS LUCILLE BALL
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