Apocalypse At Exit 239

I have always been a fan of apocalyptic entertainment. Not in a morbid sense. I just really like zombie movies. Night of the Living Dead. Dawn of the Dead or I Am Legend. Movies involving some sort of catastrophic accident or TV like AMC's The Walking Dead...anything where it's man versus some evil or virus or undead or...well you get the picture. The struggle to survive and rebuild. I'm always curious what one would do should they be thrown into life or death circumstances and what they do to get by.

In a funny sort of way what I shoot kind of represents a look at what was but is no longer. Many things are abandoned and left to nature. As if some sort of catastrophic event happened and everything was left as it was. The shell of an abandoned business all that remains because anything useful was removed. Such was the case at Exit 239 off of I-59 way up in northeast Alabama.

I'm sure if you've ever traveled on any interstate chances are you eventually had to pull off because you needed gas or food or a break. And you saw a business that had long since ceased operations for whatever reason. Having logged maybe a million miles in my lifetime I've certainly seen my share. A lot have nothing at all. Just an exit. But Exit 239 was special. And honestly quite eerie.

There were the remains of five separate businesses here. Four gas stations and a motel. Only one of the
four buildings remained intact. Even the billboards showed many years of neglect. The one to the left advertised a 24 hour Shell Truck Stop that eventually became the Chevron. The trees were so overgrown that you could not see the sign from the highway.

Of the five, one was completely razed. Nothing but a patch of sparse pavement and weeds. The biggest of the five, the Chevron Truck Stop, was more or less intact. By intact I mean the walls were still standing. The diesel fuel islands for trucks as well as the awning were still there. But little else. All the glass was long gone...I'm sure the handiwork of vandals. Across from the truck stop was a motel. Well, I'm pretty sure it was a motel. I'm betting not much of one as it was just concrete block construction. You can still see what was the remains of each bathroom. What I thought was odd was it appeared that someone decided to tear it down but then stopped. As if all that was required was take down 2/3rds of it and call it a day. Each room had a basement too or maybe those were a first floor. All I know is it's making a fine planter for the trees that now populate it.

Across the interstate was just a single gas station that eventually became an antique store. And that did not survive either. Just another silent reminder of a once prosperous interchange that just folded up shop and died. The area around there is very sparsely populated but exits don't cater to the locals. They try to lure in the passers by. The road warrior seeking an oasis. But for some odd reason these businesses at Exit 239 failed to do this. Maybe for a time they were successful. But that time seems so long ago.

An occasional car would go by to break the silence that is Exit 239. But, even with the passing traffic noise on the interstate, it was strangely quiet here. Walking around I felt very alone. Yes of course I was physically alone. But this was a different kind of alone. Not like a walk in the woods. It was creepy to be honest. No, I did not expect a "walker" to come out of nowhere. But when I finally shot what I needed I was quite happy to go find people again at the next exit...

Just Random Stuff I See

I spend a lot of time on the road. I think since the middle of January I have put about 5000 miles on my old truck. I can rack up a lotta miles and see nothing worth shooting. But that doesn't mean I don't see "anything" worthy of a picture. Alabama is a beautiful state. But Alabama also has a lot of, shall we say, quirky things as well. I didn't start off shooting them and a lot I missed because that wasn't what I was looking for. Now when I see the unusual, the absurd, the downright quirky...anything that makes you laugh or...well, you get what I'm saying. Anyway, I'll stop and take a picture. Like the sign warning you there's a river ahead. Well duh.

 Ever heard of Dismal, Alabama? I hear it's a quite............place to live. Btw, if you take the left here on Winston County Hwy 63 you can see America's "2nd" oldest log jail. This is for bad wood I presume. Or knotty pine (pause here for laughs...that will not be forthcoming)

Bet you thought USA meant something else didn't you? Seems the geography books had it all wrong. The things you learn. And here I am actually using that geography thingy too.

Everybody needs a hot tub...on their front porch...by the road. Oh did I mention this is literally 35 or 40 feet away from Hwy 231?

Whatever floats you boat I suppose.

Further up the road as I was heading north I saw what looked like somebody made a network of paths in their front yard. Only thing is they seemed so random and stopped at odd places. Well, turns out you have to be heading south and then it makes sense. What has to be the world's largest Alabama logo. It is so big I have no doubt it could be seen on Google maps.

                                                             

                                                                Um....is comment really necessary?

And finally, as y'all are aware, Cato makes many trips with me. He's getting to the teenage cat stage in life when he can be a handful. Every time he gets in the truck he's all over the place and getting into everything. I've never seen a cat more at home in a moving vehicle right from the start. But I have to admit when he gets like this I'm a little grateful. I once saw a question posed on Facebook. If you could choose to be any animal what would you be? That's an easy one. A cat in my house...

I Knew This Was Coming

I'm going to say something. Something I never in a million, gazillion years EVER thought would cross my lips. I actually....sigh....working up to it so bear with me. 

I actually dread the end of winter.......excuse me a moment as I compose myself. 

I do not look forward to the approaching spring. Spring means lots of things. First and foremost is, of course, the end of winter. But it also means my subject matter will once again be swallowed up by the advance of nature. The birds will sing. The flowers will bloom. The trees will once again clothe themselves with ample foliage. I'm pretty sure you see where this is going. It means I will have to cease my project for now. Oh I'm not done with the blog. I think I have another four or five left before I stop for the season. But I've got maybe a week or two at most to get a few more pictures. To say this is a melancholy moment doesn't really do it justice. But such is life and you deal with it.

My photos this time have no theme really. Just random things I picked up here and there. The image at top is a bridge near Kimberly. I'm not sure if it was originally Hwy 31 but it was quite unusual to see it as I plodded down the winding road. The above image was from a power plant of an old sawmill in Brent. It was being torn down. The place was quite large and must have processed millions of feet of lumber in its day.

The Jazz Feed sign was on a long gone business in West Blocton. The interior is of the same business. I always wondered whatever happened to Blocton. I mean obviously there had to be a Blocton to have a West Blocton. Right? So you know I did do a search for Blocton but came up empty. So we are forever relegated to only having the western version. It's like so many small towns that time seems to have passed by. Back in its day it was a mining town. But now even the United Mine Workers drug store is closed down. (That's it across the street from the Jazz Feeds building) I recall it was a cold day when I shot these pictures. In an odd sort of way the weather seemed quite appropriate.

I remember this building. Well duh. I did shoot it. The remnants of an old general store in western Alabama. Behind it is a newer version in brick. A lady stopped by and wanted to know what I was doing. I explained of course and then inquired as to what she knew about the place. You see, it's two lonely buildings at a crossroads that are miles from anywhere. She told me it was the Martin Murphy store and it had been closed since she was a little girl back in the 1980s. I'll never understand why places like this don't survive. I can tell you it had to be 15 miles from any civilization so yeah...probably worth paying the convenience markup I would think. I did go inside all the while wondering if today was the day it would decide to collapse. I've been in a few like that but you have to go where the pictures are. Just don't be stupid. I am a guy so that's part of our DNA I'm afraid.

The SLOW sign is just off Hwy 31 up around Warrior. There is a large industrial complex down the hill behind it but entry was going to be a bit difficult. It had been raining and it was muddy and I had places to go. Maybe next year. 

Spring. You know I love you. You know how much I detest winter. You are just coming too soon. (Insert heavy sigh here) Next winter I'll start earlier. I'll have a better plan. I'll be more organized. I'll...oh who am I kidding? 

I Always Loved That Smell...

Way back in the last century. Back in a time when there was no such thing as compact discs and I would wager the thought of an iPod had not occurred to anyone yet. When I had an 8-track player in my old Impala and gas costs 75 cents a gallon I used to work at a radio station. WAHR-FM in Hunstville. We were an album oriented rock station and played vinyl records on turntables. The station was located on the 11th floor of the Times Building on Holmes Avenue and at 3.2 kilowatts our signal barely made it to the city limits. I spent many a Saturday and Sunday night there back in the late 1970s. Probably the most fun job I ever had.

Now you may ask...what does this have to do with the title and the pictures? Actually a lot. You see I always knew it was fall when I worked downtown. Not because of the weather although that was a factor. No. It was the end of cotton harvesting season and now it was time to gin it. There was a cotton gin down Church Street just north of where I worked. And the smell of the ginning process. For those of you that don't know, cotton ginning is the process of separating the seed from the fiber which made it easier to process into clothing or whatever. And of course everyone who knows even rudimentary history would know who Eli Whitney is.

Anyway, it always smelled like barbeque to me. For the life of me I never understood why that was. There was no hickory fire and no pork. But the smell was very similar. So when I came across this old cotton gin in Vincent, Alabama I thought two things. Cool beans! Something worth shooting and the memory of the smell of cotton being ginned. I've often noticed that smells remind us of memories. And of course things remind us of smells. But this was an unusual one for me. I asked at the town hall if they knew when it closed. Best anyone could remember was the early 1990s. But here it sat 20 years later. The machinery was rusting in place and even the scale read wrong. But it was still mostly intact. As if it lay dormant for the time being. Waiting till fall rolled around again and the long line of cotton farmers would process the fruits of their labor.

I'm sure most of y'all know this but Alabama is called the Cotton State. It produced more cotton per square mile than
any other place on earth in 1890 and half of all cotton exported in the world went through the port of Mobile in 1860.* But with the appearance of the Boll Weevil to Alabama in 1915 which nearly wiped out Alabama's cotton crop it forced farmers to diversify into other crops such as peanuts and soybeans. There is a statue honoring the boll weevil in Enterprise, Alabama. The only known statue to honor an agricultural pest in the world.#

 

I really did not mean this to be a history lesson. But history is what defines us. We get from here to there by our history. Which is why I do what I do. Pictures remind us of things. Of memories...both good and bad. I go to a Facebook page called Huntsville Revisited. The gentleman who runs it has an incredible wealth of pictures dating back years. I love to go there and see things as they were. Because I grew up there I see things from my youth and try and reconstruct where I was. Who I was with. Old friends. Things of that sort. It's neat to see the old pictures and remember my youth...

If you have time and of course a Huntsville connection helps check out Huntsville Revisited on Facebook. Take the time to check out his albums. It's a fun place to go.



* http://www.extension.org/pages/10578/history-of-alabama-cotton
# http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boll_Weevil_Monument

At The Intersection of Middle & Nowhere

I have come to see that Alabama is a much bigger
state than I ever realized. In terms of relative size it's only 30th nationwide, coming in at 52,423 sq. miles. But when you're driving it and go a good long stretch of nothing you soon figure that out. I'm quite happy to have Cato along. Not because he's a good talker. Actually I'm so focused on my task that I'm glad he's good company without actually having to be entertained.


Now many of you from Limestone or western Madison county will recognize the lake to the left. A friend told me about it and it took a little investigative work to locate it but it's still there. I remember Hatfield Lake but never went. Walking around the place made me think of images I've seen of the amusement park at Chernobyl. It's kinda eerie seeing it now and imagining its former life during the lazy summer days of one's youth.

In the course of my travels I will see the occasional thing that suits my fancy. Just a single building at a crossroads. A monument to commerce that once was. Not enough to do a big write up. Just a single structure that tells just a tiny part of our past. Occasionally someone will stop and ask what I'm doing. Now, when I was in TV, and shooting something quite obvious (meaning newsworthy) I would find myself fighting off the urge to be sarcastic. Not because I wanted to be mean. No, sometimes I would scratch my head why people would ask what I perceived to be blatantly obvious. But now I see inquiring minds as potential sources of information. And many will at least have some recollection of the subject at hand. The bad thing is much of what I see is left to my imagination. The sign to the right. Edward's Used cars. I found this in Marion. Marion is the county seat of Perry County. Not to be confused with Marion County who's (or is it whose?) county seat is Hamilton. I drove around Marion a bit and found many abandoned houses. I debated shooting those but didn't find them particularly interesting. But the car lot sign was different. No cars. No building. Nothing but weeds and a sign. It's things like this that define Forgotten Alabama for me.

The old football field was a real prize in my quest. It's the only one I've ever seen. Home of the Purple Devils. How's that for a unique mascot? I spotted this years ago while working and knew one day I would be back. What I found unusual is that nothing has changed. It looks exactly the same as I recall it six or seven years ago. Over the course of my travels a few things I remember seeing are now long gone. I was quite happy to see this place still intact.

 Welcome to Sulphur Springs. Population....actually I don't know. In fact I never even saw a sign. Just this little Mom & Pop grocery store at a crossroads.
I think this is western Calhoun County but it doesn't show on any map I've seen so far.

The sign on the right is from Gasoline Alley in northern Morgan County. It was known at one time to be the place to go to save a few pennies on gas. I suppose because the county tax was cheaper than neighboring Madison County. I remember many a trip my Dad would take here back in the 1960's to save a few cents a gallon for gas. Now that I think about it I seriously wonder the wisdom in that. I'm old enough to remember gas costing 24.9 a gallon. We would drive from Sherwood Park in west Huntsville all the way here and back. So, guessing here of course, I figure that was a 40 mile round trip. And he couldn't have been saving more than 2 or 3 cents a gallon. So if we were bone dry he would have saved at best about 75 cents. Now figure in lost time (at least an hour and a half) plus gas used to get there and back (around three gallons in the old Chevy wagon) I'm thinking this was a losing proposition. But he was an engineer. What did I know? ;-)

Every Once in a While I Find Gold...Relatively Speaking

I finally made it to one of my crown jewels. A place I've wanted to shoot for years. I had seen it at least a hundred times over the course of my life with Channel 13. You couldn't miss it. This sprawling industrial complex under the overpass as you crossed out of Ensley on your way to Birmingport. It was known as the Tennessee Coal & Iron Company. Being a student of history, TCI's history is actually quite fascinating. According to Wikipedia, it, at one time, was the second largest steel producer in the US employing as many as 45,000 at its peak during WWII. While it originally started in Tennessee it eventually moved its headquarters to Birmingham but kept its original name. TCI started many company towns including Ensley (named after company president Enoch Ensley), Corey (later renamed Fairfield), Docena, and Edgewater. It was merged with US Steel in 1907 through some interesting back room deals involving Teddy Roosevelt and J.P. Morgan and was one of the first 12 companies listed on the inaugural Dow Jones Industrial Average in 1896.

Furnace of the Tennessee Coal, Iron, and
Railroad Company, Ensley, Alabama, 1906.

Furnaces at the Ensley Plant

I "borrowed" the images above from Wikipedia but turns out (I didn't know this) that since they were taken prior to 1923 they're considered public domain.

To say this place was big doesn't do it justice. By the time I had finished two hours later I must have walked close to three miles. That included a great deal of dead kudzu and broken terrain. I couldn't imagine how massive it must have been in its day not to mention how noisy it had to be.

600 Ton Molten Metal Mixer

The molten metal mixer on the right. You'll laugh but I always thought it was kind of creepy. I saw this as some alien with two eyes and ears and a metal face. Kinda cyborg like just staring at you before it decides to vaporize you because...well...it didn't need a reason. Reminds me of my childhood  innocence when I watched horror movies. I can trace my abject fear of scorpions to a Mexican horror movie. Funny the things we retain throughout our lives.

I had mentioned I wanted to shoot this place for some time to a photographer friend I had met online. He had been there before and had some beautiful shots. As I have come to discover, I am just one of many who shoot the things I do. I like to think I have a unique niche but we photog types all like to think we're the first to do whatever it is we do. And we all our fairly protective of our turf. I won't mention his name because I didn't ask but I will say he offered me some good tips about shooting this. What to look for and what to avoid. And to leave Cato home for this trip. Turns out there's some mighty deep manholes and I might lose a cat. It was creepy enough being here in broad daylight wondering what I might run into here as it is. I didn't need to be minding a curious cat who might fall into some hole and hurt himself and me not being able to find him. I have to admit I've grown very attached to him and I would hate for anything to happen to him.

You know, I had not planned on writing a lot for this blog. I wanted to do more pictures because I was excited to be here. If you only knew how many times I passed over this place and wanted to shoot it. Ten years at least. Maybe more. The locomotive was my magnet. As I have stated before I love trains. The old ALCO switcher at left was calling my name. Really! It was begging me to shoot it before it returned to the earth from whence it came. It was really fun climbing up on it and being in it. Seeing the old gauges and controls. Imagining the hard life it must have had. I often wondered how it came to rest where it did. Did it just die right where it sat and the company just abandoned it? In a funny sort of way I felt sorry for it. Old #5 gave its all for the company and now sits as a rusting memorial to the once great Tennessee Coal & iron Company.

My source and keep in mind it's Wikipedia so most likely factual but you never know... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tennessee_Coal,_Iron_and_Railroad_Company

Little House on a Hill

I remember this day. Not sure why really. A cool, crisp and quite sunny day in late January. Another one of those "Let's burn through a lotta gas and hope we get lucky" days. I found myself in Weogufka, Alabama. I had seen the turnoff from some highway somewhere. I don't know. Maybe Highway 280. There's not a lot there really. Just a crossroads with a single active store called Caperton's Old South General Store and Pawn Shop. It's an interesting little place and surprisingly busy for being...well, not gonna say the middle of nowhere. We'll just say a remote outpost in southern Coosa County. I inquired of the owner if he knew of anything in the area. Things I'm looking for. He made sure I knew they use everything there and why would anyone care about old abandoned things? I thanked him for his time and headed off still with no idea where to go. Heading north on Hwy 29 I saw a sign for Marbletown. Well that's an interesting name. Too bad it doesn't exist. I've seen this several times. The state will leave a sign up for some place that doesn't exist anymore and I can only assume the locals will still know. So you know, I did search Google maps but that was no help. 

 Now you may ask. Why am I saying all this? Good question for which I have no real answer. Well, that's not exactly true. As I said earlier I was on my way to Marbletown when I saw the little house on the hill.

It was...well...is remarkably intact. But this house has something going for it that I suspect few houses anywhere do. Imagine life 70 years ago when there was no Walmart. Or grocery store. Or hardware store. No civilization of any kind really. I'm not saying nothing within 100 miles of course. But when a trip to town was a major event. This was a time when you learned to be self-sufficient. Lived off the land and prepared for anything. And this place had pretty much everything. There was a well so you always had water. And lots of storage. And stored food. I have no idea how long it had been there. Needless to say I was stunned when I saw the canned fruits still intact in their Mason Jars. Preserved for years. They looked as though you could open any one of them and have something to eat. So you know, I didn't touch them. Who knows how long they've been sitting here exposed to many a cold winter followed a scorching Alabama summer.  But it was truly remarkable seeing this preserved moment in time.

There were several out buildings here. Nothing that resembled a barn really. Jut mostly storage buildings. The lock at the right served a purpose at one time keeping out anyone who might help themselves. What you don't see is that the structure is mostly gone. I just liked it because it made a cool picture. The outhouse above is in really good condition. Yes I opened the door and looked inside. Half way expected to see corn cobs or an old Sears catalog. Nope. Just a wooden bench with the appropriate opening.

The interior was a mixture of very good to very poor condition. There was no kitchen to speak of. It did have electricity at one time but even that was quite a long time ago. There was a double fireplace in the middle of the house. It faced the front room and the bedroom behind it  both sharing a common flue. I'm betting it made the whole house fairly warm. At least i hope so since there was no such thing as insulation in any wall I saw. There was even some old clothing hanging on the wall of the bedroom. I suppose what the Sears catalog had to offer in 1953.

As I walked through this property it seemed a bit surreal. Why was the canned fruit still there? Why didn't the jars freeze and break? Why was that dress still hanging on the wall? The outhouse. It was in remarkably good condition. It was as if much of this was frozen in time. Like the junkyard I mentioned in my first blog. As if it was abandoned in 1965 and time stood still. 

I love what I do. Who knew things like this still existed?

While I was there I heard a rifle go off in the distance. Funny thing is I didn't give it a second thought. It was near the end of deer hunting season and the the numerous trucks I saw parked just off the road told me the woods were alive with hunters. All part of living in Alabama. A gun shot in the woods doesn't even phase me.

My last picture was my adventure of the day. I told Mr Garmin I wanted to go to Clanton and this is the way it sent me. Yep, this is a real road and I will "assume" maintained by Coosa County. 6.2 miles of mud. And yeah, there was some places that called for a running start and don't stop or you're screwed. Happy I own a truck and have a little experience driving in questionable conditions...