Gary Lloyd's Blog, page 3

Pay phoning it forward in Trussville

By Gary Lloyd

You know those phone calls you make, the ones where you’re bounced from line to line, as if you’re a human pinball?

Well, have I got a story for you.

There’s this pay phone in Trussville, and I’ll leave its exact coordinates out of this space in case WiMacTel gets ahold of this column. More on that in a minute. Anyway, if you have a child who enjoys playground slides and swings, you’ve seen it. Maybe you used it to dial home when you were a kid.

The infamous pay phone in Trussville (photo by Gary Lloyd)

In a world of smartphones, pocket-sized social media addictions with more lenses than a Nikon D3500, I decided to trace back this relic, a black phone attached to a cord inside a metal box bolted to concrete. Here’s what I found out.

City of Trussville officials did not know this pay phone’s origin, or if there were other outdoor public pay phones remaining in the city. They, along with myself, ventured to guess there were not. I researched online – CNBC articles, Wikipedia, random Google searches – and spent the most time on this website for The Payphone Project, which tracks the de-evolution of pay phones and phone booths across America. I took several close-up photos of the pay phone with my iPhone so that I had all its information – its phone number, CenturyTel’s number, the service number, instructions and more.

I called the CenturyTel number, which apparently had been changed. Instead of CenturyTel, I was directed to a free medical alert device promotion. I told the woman on the other end of the line that I had the wrong number. She tried to sell me on some “free” medical alert devices anyway.

Next, I called the actual local pay phone’s number, 205-661-9347. It’s unsurprisingly disconnected. I then called the Service and Refund number printed on the pay phone. It was no longer in service, but a recorded message advised me to contact Lumen Technologies – via email. The call then disconnected automatically.

I emailed Lumen Technologies’ Public Relations email address with my phone-related questions: How long has this pay phone been here? Are there others in Trussville? How long has that one quarter been fossilized in the coin slot? I was contacted by the Global Issues Director who told me my inquiry was a “great story idea.” He advised that their pay phone business was sold to WiMacTel, previously FSH, in 2004. I was a high school sophomore, and at the time was likely using a navy Motorola Razr, all the craze back then, even at a dime per text message.

A close-up look (photo by Gary Lloyd)

I contacted WiMacTel – via email. Two days passed without a reply. I sent another email message, and I’m still awaiting a reply, a year later. Maybe it’s for the best that I never received a response, so that this bulky artifact remains in place. So, all that to tell you that I tried. I had planned on a long feature story, a deep look at a past communication method that somehow is still bolted to a sidewalk in this undisclosed Trussville location.

But, like trying to get through to someone, anyone, I was passed off to one person then the next until, finally, I was disconnected.

Click.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.

One final descent to Birmingham

By Gary Lloyd

I always thought it was the steepest hill in the city because the rumble of overhead airplanes seemed to shake the leaves from the trees.

They were always on their descent into Birmingham, landing gear already deploying. I wrote about Austin Way in a book I published in 2017 and, six years later, it’s time to update that story.

Before my grandmother moved there, she had lived on 85th Street South, walking distance to the former Banks High School and Ruffner Mountain Nature Preserve. At some point during my childhood, she moved to Austin Way, to a smaller home with a distant view of the downtown lights. This home’s backyard did not have space for even a croquet match, but an open field across the street served as our baseball and football field at Thanksgiving.

My family kept the home after my grandmother moved to an assisted living community, but no one lived there until 2012, when I moved in. It became the first home for my wife, Jessica, and me. It’s where we drove after we got married, where I typed enough articles to earn carpal tunnel syndrome, where Jessica completed her master’s degree. It’s where I never quite fine-tuned my short game with a sand wedge and golf balls across the street, where I always stopped to stare at the airplanes. 

After a year in that house, we found a bigger one we could grow into, with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. We bought it, and teared up the day we moved. My grandmother’s house was two bedrooms and two bathrooms, with barely a yard to speak of, no neighbors younger than fifty, and the washer and dryer were crammed in our stifling one-car garage. But a house holds so much more than possessions and conveniences. It holds fudge and piano songs at Christmas, childhood sleepovers, fun birthdays and countless memories. There were many of those in that house.

A family friend lived there for a while, and he even had the bathrooms updated and new flooring put down in the kitchen. He moved out when my mother-in-law made the permanent move from Florida to Birmingham in 2016. She purchased the home and lived there until 2022.

The evening before the closing on the sale of the home, I brought my lawnmower over to cut the backyard one final time. It took five minutes, but I cut it on the 3.0 deck setting, then 2.0, and then 1.0. I had more on my to-do list that night, so I didn’t stay long after running over the grass three times, but I did walk in each room to just sort of remember the past.

I backed out of the driveway and stopped at the Austin Way street sign to take a couple photos. The white letters were cracking and the silver pole was half-brown with rust. I climbed back into my truck and turned left to head down the hill and out of the neighborhood. I heard a roar overhead and looked through my windshield to see an airplane making its way home to Birmingham.

One final descent.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.

The finest of dining establishments

By Gary Lloyd

A few months back, I wrote a column for this space that grilled — pun definitely intended — modern fast-food restaurant building designs.

I annihilated the analogous architecture and ignited the interior design with flammable words. I tried to use humor in places to soften my tone. I’m not sure it worked. I may have overcooked the whole thing. Last pun, I promise.

This column is also about dining establishments, one in particular, but my approach is as different as a renovated McDonald’s and a longtime family diner.

I recently had an hour to kill in the Birmingham area while our dog, Abby, nervously sat through a grooming appointment. I had asked on Twitter for lunch recommendations in the area, and the same diner continued to be the answer. So, I went, and I’m glad I did.

When I swung open the diner’s front door, Bob Seger was runnin’ against the wind, a coming-of-age ballad only drowned out by the buzz of college football discussion and sizzling meat. The place was small. I counted eight counter barstools and three booths. All three were filled with folks who seemed to come here often. I sat at a small square corner table a couple feet inside the front door.

Frayed and fading newspaper stories — those ancient pages that used to be printed seven days a week — were framed across the walls, featuring mostly Alabama and Auburn football players. Signs over the kitchen area recognized Mark Ingram’s 2009 Heisman Trophy win for Alabama and Cam Newton’s 2010 Heisman Trophy victory at Auburn. I tried my hardest not to notice the latter.

“Running on Empty” by Jackson Browne played next, followed by James Taylor’s “Carolina In My Mind.” I ordered a Philly cheesesteak that was so good that it made me want to slap, well, someone who has ever made a lesser cheesesteak. Former CBS late-night talk show host Craig Ferguson ate here once, and he said on “The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson” that the experience “shook me to the core.”

A man and his wife came in about 15 minutes after I ordered and sat in the booth in front of me. The man used a Canon camera to photograph everything, as if he were simply sitting down to lunch at a museum’s cafeteria. I guess he was, in a way.

The diner owner, a man I read about in preparation for my lunch, was exactly as I had imagined from reading old news articles about the diner. He seemed to know everyone, and I got the impression I was the lone newbie in the place. He came over to my table, strongly patted me on the shoulder like an uncle would, and asked me if everything was good, and I could feel that he was inquiring about more than the food.

I had planned to stay a while and take it all in, to just observe, maybe to talk with the owner, but my phone buzzed, and the groomer let me know that Abby was already ready to go. My trip was cut shorter than expected. I’ll have to go back soon. I already feel like a regular.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.

Things are always better in the morning

By Gary Lloyd

Remember that episode of Seinfeld, the one where George drives so fast on the way to the Bubble Boy’s house that he leaves Jerry in the dust?

“We’re making incredible time here!” George exclaims.

That’s typically me on a road trip.

Fast food? I can wait.

Rest area? I can wait.

Priester’s Pecans? OK, I have only so much willpower.

The sculpture of three Depression-era children reading To Kill a Mockingbird (photo by Gary Lloyd)

I recently drove back to Trussville from Gulf Shores and made a 9 a.m. stop in Monroeville, not for a McDonald’s or a bathroom, but for a memory. I had always wanted to see the small town that produced author Harper Lee and her masterpiece, To Kill a Mockingbird, and to a smaller though not insignificant degree fellow author Truman Capote. I planned to see a couple historic markers and the Old Courthouse Museum’s exterior, perhaps a 20-minute detour.

I stayed for over an hour. I parked at The Faulk Building, which includes four types of lofts: the Scout, Atticus, Harper and Capote. I crossed Alabama Avenue to find the stately Old Courthouse Museum, the most famous courtroom in literature. I walked around it twice. I saw a rock monument to Atticus Finch, Mockingbird-themed birdhouses big as Yeti coolers, a sculpture of three Depression-era children reading the novel, and a Literary Landmarks Register marker dedicated to Truman Capote. Chirping birds overwhelmed any low rumble of nearby traffic.

Monroeville was near impossible to leave. I parked at a bank and walked to the former home location of Capote’s family, where he spent summer vacations. I pulled in at the Monroe County Public Library and read a historic marker about Lucas’ Raiders dashing through Monroeville during the Civil War. I drove a half mile to Pineville Cemetery, where I encountered a Greyhound full of tourists visiting Lee’s modest gravesite. Her full name, Nelle Harper Lee, was encircled by 39 pennies, one seashell, numerous rocks, a pair of Mardi Gras beads, a couple potted plants, white flowers, and a ceramic dinner plate.

I returned to downtown Monroeville to snag every leaflet and trifold the town could offer me. Maybe some day I’ll rent one of those lofts. I preferred the Harper, personally. I walked the downtown streets to discover just how impactful that Pulitzer Prize-winning novel published in 1960 still is. It, along with other books by Lee, Capote and more, are painted on one building. A mockingbird is painted on the side of Lee Motor Co. Autographed copies of the novel were available at Johnson Jewelers. A title company next door was called Mockingbird Title, LLC.

As I made my way up North Mt. Pleasant Avenue toward where my truck was parked on Pineville Road, because I had three more hours to drive without stopping at Priester’s Pecans this time, some orange and red banners caught my eye. I guess they hadn’t stood when I had first arrived, when that courthouse was my sole focus. I approached an orange one, several feet above my head, and squinted in the morning sun.

On the bottom, “Monroeville Main Street.”

Above that in white cursive, “Write your chapter here.”

In Monroeville, I believe I could.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and is a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.

NEW DATE: Historic marker to be unveiled at Heritage Hall

By Gary Lloyd

TRUSSVILLE – A new Alabama Historical Commission historical marker will be revealed Sunday, April 16 at Heritage Hall in Trussville.

The Trussville History Museum will also be open to the public as part of the afternoon’s festivities, which begin at 1 p.m. The marker unveil will be at 2 p.m. The museum will close at 4 p.m. Refreshments will be served.

The historic marker unveiling was originally scheduled for March 26, but had to be postponed until a later date.

A plaque on the exterior of the Heritage Hall building (photo by Amy Peterson O’Brien)

Heritage Hall was originally a retail general store and filling station managed by the Cahaba Cooperative Association. Built in 1938 along with the homes in the Cahaba Project, the store served the needs of the Cahaba Project residents.

In 1951, four years after Trussville incorporated as a town, the town bought the general store to establish a community center and library. It later served as band and choral rooms for the high school.

In 1988, on the building’s 50th anniversary, the Trussville Industrial Development Board restored the building. The building was dedicated to the preservation and development of the historic, civic and cultural heritage of the city through the Trussville Historical Board, the Trussville Area Chamber of Commerce and the Arts Council of the Trussville Area. The Trussville Area Chamber of Commerce had existed since 1946 but did not have a permanent office until the restoration in 1988.

Additionally, a bench honoring Earl Massey and his years of historic preservation will be unveiled for the first time. Massey died in August 2022.

Those who have memories of Heritage Hall, whether it be filling up with gas at the filling station, purchasing items from the co-op store, selecting books from the library, or any other Heritage Hall-specific memories, are encouraged to attend and tell their stories.

Historic marker to be unveiled at Heritage Hall

By Gary Lloyd

TRUSSVILLE – A new Alabama Historical Commission historical marker will be revealed Sunday, March 26 at Heritage Hall in Trussville.

The Trussville History Museum will also be open to the public as part of the afternoon’s festivities, which begin at 1 p.m. The museum will close at 4 p.m. Refreshments will be served.

A plaque on the exterior of the Heritage Hall building (photo by Amy Peterson O’Brien)

Heritage Hall was originally a retail general store and filling station managed by the Cahaba Cooperative Association. Built in 1938 along with the homes in the Cahaba Project, the store served the needs of the Cahaba Project residents.

In 1951, four years after Trussville incorporated as a town, the town bought the general store to establish a community center and library. It later served as band and choral rooms for the high school.

In 1988, on the building’s 50th anniversary, the Trussville Industrial Development Board restored the building. The building was dedicated to the preservation and development of the historic, civic and cultural heritage of the city through the Trussville Historical Board, the Trussville Area Chamber of Commerce and the Arts Council of the Trussville Area. The Trussville Area Chamber of Commerce had existed since 1946 but did not have a permanent office until the restoration in 1988.

Additionally, a bench honoring Earl Massey and his years of historic preservation will be unveiled for the first time. Massey died in August 2022.

Those who have memories of Heritage Hall, whether it be filling up with gas at the filling station, purchasing items from the co-op store, selecting books from the library, or any other Heritage Hall-specific memory, are encouraged to attend and tell their stories.

Trussville History Museum open March 11

The Trussville History Museum inside Heritage Hall in Trussville will be open Saturday, March 11.

The museum will be open from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.

Heritage Hall is located at 225 Parkway Drive in Trussville.

Stop by and talk Trussville! 

Check out this short video promoting the museum!

 

Lawsuit filed against Trussville over Mall restrooms

By Gary Lloyd

TRUSSVILLE – A Feb. 22 lawsuit filed in Jefferson County Civil Court seeks an injunction against the City of Trussville to stop construction of a restroom facility on The Mall.

On Feb. 13, percolation tests began on The Mall near the pavilion and pickleball courts. That same day, several protest signs were placed near orange cones that were marking areas that were dug up for percolation testing for a potential septic system. Since that time, fencing has been placed around the area where the restrooms will be constructed.

The lawsuit, Trussville Mall Residents v. City of Trussville, was filed by Trussville resident Arnold Reichert.

According to the filing, the residents of the Cahaba Project, specifically residents on North Mall, South Mall, and West Mall, “are seeking a permanent injunction to enjoin the construction of public restrooms currently in progress by the City of Trussville in a residential neighborhood which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places as the Cahaba Homestead Village.”

Today’s citizens of this area of Trussville, according to the suit, “are proud and protective of its designation and go to great time and expense to maintain the area with some degree of historical character so that future generations can witness and appreciate its significance in history.”

The residents are petitioning the court for an injunction to stop the construction and allow time for the city to seriously consider alternative sites. According to the lawsuit, this restroom facility, in conjunction with the pickleball courts, are in violation of the Nuisance Law because:

A. They deny the homeowners’ normal use and enjoyment of their property.

The scene on The Mall on Feb. 13 (submitted photo)

B. Adding a permanent restroom encourages lengthier pickleball activity which already begins at daylight and continues until 11:30 PM most nights. The constant popping noise of the game is offensive to the senses in the residential area.

C. The large overhead timed lights go off around 10:00 PM, BUT the extra security lights along one side of the courts provide enough light to play all night long. All of the lights interfere with the homeowners nearby and force them to have blackout drapes for sleeping. Furthermore, the restrooms would be an eyesore illuminated at night.

D. The visual enjoyment of the homeowner’s view of the mall will be impeded by this large, permanent building. Several residents will look out their front window or open their doors to see a bathroom facility obstructing their view. Residents purchased their homes years ago with a reasonable expectation that The Mall would remain a dedicated green space as it has been for the last 86 years AND as it is listed on the National Register of Historic Places in Washington D.C.

E. These bathrooms will be UNSUPERVISED by the City of Trussville. Families with young children have expressed overwhelming concern that the bathrooms will invite misuse and abuse of the facilities and easy access to children by potential predators.

F. Property values may be compromised, especially for those homes with obstructed views and within close proximity to the bathroom building.

G. This location for the bathroom will require a septic system under the Mall which already floods after heavy rains and could cause damage to the trees on The Mall and to neighboring properties. Both other options suggested by residents permit easy access to the current sewer system, thus eliminating the need for a septic tank and fill lines.

According to the lawsuit, on Feb. 14, Reichert addressed the matter at the Trussville City Council meeting, hoping to delay the project long enough for the residents most affected to have time to give input. “Since that time, several residents have had meetings with Mayor [Buddy] Choat expressing concerns and offering other viable locations with plans that are less obtrusive and fewer than 100 yards from the courts,” the suit states. “The alternative plans for the restroom facility will be more convenient to 4 other public areas: the elementary school gym, ACTA community theatre, children’s playground and swimming pool, thus serving a larger group of people. Other residents put forth the idea of placing the restroom facility along one unused area of the aforementioned children’s playground.”

Trussville Mayor Buddy Choat could not immediately be reached for comment Thursday.

Protest signs showed up on The Mall near the sites of the percolation tests within a matter of hours on Feb. 13 (submitted photo)

“Approximately a year ago the City of Trussville transformed some of the tennis courts into 6 pickleball courts when that sport became increasingly popular,” the lawsuit states. “Pickleball courts are in use for as many as 18 hours a day, early in the morning until late at night. Current pickleball players have lately put pressure on the Mayor because they want a bathroom easily accessible to the courts, although there are already portable toilets maintained beside the courts. The plans for the new restroom included in this document are for a building 25 feet long 20 feet wide and 17 feet tall and will house only 4 toilets. This new bathroom would not eliminate the need for portable toilets which would still be brought in for large events. Also, new pickleball courts are being added to the nearby Trussville Sports Complex, likely reducing the crowds at the Mall courts around the same time this new restroom is to be built to serve those crowds. It is worth noting that joggers and people enjoying recreation on The Mall have made do without a restroom facility there for decades, as there are other public restrooms nearby.”

RELATED: Pickleball in Trussville: ‘The heartburn is the greenspace’

The lawsuit concludes by stating the residents of The Mall area “hope this will provide the opportunity for the Mayor’s office to re-think this project and find more discreet and tasteful options for the placement of restrooms. All Homeowners who make exterior home renovations in this neighborhood are REQUIRED to present their plans to the City of Trussville’s Design Review Board OR THEY DON’T RECEIVE A BUILDING PERMIT. The City should lead by example, with input from the Design Review Board and consider other locations for these restrooms. First and foremost, the City of Trussville should seek input from The Mall residents themselves. They are the stakeholders most affected by this decision that jeopardizes the views, design, and function of The Mall green space. Once any structures like public restrooms are built on this historic site they will NEVER be removed.”

This story will be updated if and when more information becomes available.

The backside of beach traditions

By Gary Lloyd

Our trips to Gulf Shores were always packed with more tradition than that pregame hype video that plays across the jumbotron screens at Bryant-Denny Stadium.

The buffet at Hazel’s was always a must. I ate enough popcorn shrimp to keep a shrimp boat deckhand working all summer. Finding 18 holes of mini-golf, anywhere on the Gulf Coast, was how we’d spend at least one night. Racing go-karts at The Track was always my favorite event of the week.

It was the beach so, naturally, there had to be time in the sand. We’d build sand castles, dig holes, search for unbroken shells and avoid jellyfish stings. I waded only waist deep into the Atlantic Ocean, because anything too deep to see to the ocean floor was disconcerting. How, knowing that jellyfish, stingrays and sharks lurk in those waters, do you swim 100 yards out in that green water and just stand there? I’ll never understand. This is what the pool is for.

Anyway, I recently drove south to Gulf Shores by myself for a work trip. Alone at a buffet? A group of one at mini-golf? Spinning out 12-year-olds from Knoxville at The Track? None of the traditions I grew up with seemed to make sense by myself. In my free time, I had to find something new, and I found it on the backside of all the attractions.

My fifth-floor room faced away from the ocean, but I could still see a large body of water. It took me walking through the parking lot and across a pedestrian bridge over five lanes of speeding tourists to learn what it was. It was called Lake Shelby, and it was my favorite part of my trip. I visited every day.

I sat atop a picnic table five feet from the water my first evening there, and I quickly realized that there wasn’t a single person within a football field of me. In Gulf Shores. In May. In sub-80s temperature. Kids swung and climbed at a nearby playground. A man taught his black Labrador to catch a Frisbee.

I went to the same place the next morning at sunrise. On my last full day in Gulf Shores, I walked four miles around the lake. Talk about a place to recenter and just be. I was on the backside of the beach, of some massive waterpark, of every one of the 917 souvenir stores that sell toddler-sized airbrushed T-shirts for the same price as the grilled snapper at LuLu’s.

I saw a man teaching his daughter to snag crabs from the water with a net. I saw a brown rabbit that was blissfully unafraid of me, and a heron that I swear wanted to kill me. The minnows in the lake allowed me close enough to record a slow-motion video of them.

All week I thought it was odd that, despite being by myself on the trip, I didn’t take a go-kart for a couple laps at The Track, that I didn’t putt a bright red ball around 18 holes on green carpet.

I suppose I started a new tradition.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and is a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.

Traveling back in time or forward to the future

By Gary Lloyd

The man looked out over a two-lane highway from four wheels, ready to roll.

I saw him on New Year’s Day 2022, a year ago now, and although I was passing by at 35 mph, I clearly saw his facial expression – a distant, northward gaze, maybe going somewhere in his mind, probably because his wheels were confined to the boundaries of a parking lot. The man was not idling behind the wheel of a Mustang or rumbling atop a Harley-Davidson, but resting on the cushioned seat of a rolling walker.

He just sat there on the edge of the parking lot, of some distant memory or long-postponed trip, and stared.

He was maybe twenty yards from the front doors of the assisted living facility, which I assumed to be his home. He was alone. Had his family visited and just left? Were they inside? Was someone coming to pick him up to go out to dinner? Was anyone coming at all? I wish I knew.

I’ve spent a decent amount of time in a couple assisted living facilities, and I know they are polarizing places for folks, but I’m sort of indifferent. The difficulties of that sort of living – the help required, the loss of complete independence, the confusion – are overcome in my mind by memories of the Hand-in-Paw nonprofit bringing therapy dogs inside for residents to pet, of watching birds flutter in a massive acrylic cage, of staff and residents applauding a man with severe dementia remembering how to play “It Had To Be You” on the piano.

Did I like having to see a grandmother there, and her brother, my great uncle, living on the second floor? Of course not. I don’t think anyone enjoys seeing a relative live somewhere other than where you visited as a kid, where you ate ham, turkey, green beans, macaroni and cheese, and fudge every Christmas Eve.

I mentioned that I saw this man sitting on his walker on New Year’s Day last year, and that’s true. Perhaps he was staring off to somewhere physical, like Times Square in New York City, Clingmans Dome in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, or even the Jack’s restaurant a few miles down the highway.

The meaning of New Year’s Day is not lost on me, so maybe the man was finalizing his New Year’s resolutions for 2022. Maybe he was simply escaping a dining room full of buttered rolls because he swore off carbs. Maybe he was not going somewhere physical, but somewhere spiritual, praying about something, or someone. I wrote this column not long after seeing him sitting in the parking lot that day, and I suppose I saved these words for a year later because timeliness and anniversaries seem important.

Wherever that man was thinking of traveling to, in a vehicle down the highway or in his mind back in time, I hope he had a good trip. Whatever his New Year’s resolution may have been, I hope he followed through on it, and that he follows through this year, too.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.