The Rigors and Rewards of Leading the Historic 1950s Walking Tour of Leeds, Alabama

Serving as the captain of the historic 1950s Walking Tour of Leeds, Alabama, scheduled for April 2025, is both an honor and an immense challenge. This role is not simply about leading a tour—it’s about breathing life into the history of our town, recruiting passionate individuals to portray our past, and ensuring that every detail of the experience is authentic, engaging, and enlightening.

The Challenge of Finding the Right Team

One of the most daunting tasks is assembling a dedicated team of captains and team members. Finding individuals who are not only willing but also enthusiastic about committing to months of preparation is no easy feat. Volunteers must be recruited, trained, and inspired to see beyond their modern lives and step into the shoes of Leeds' past citizens. Each re-enactor needs to embody their character with knowledge and authenticity, which requires extensive research and rehearsal.

The Depths of Historical Research

The tour is only as good as the stories we tell, and ensuring historical accuracy demands deep and thorough research. Sifting through old newspapers, historical archives, and personal accounts from long-time residents is an ongoing task. We must determine which stories, legends, and even rumors are worth sharing. Fact-checking, cross-referencing, and seeking out local historians for insight ensure that the history we present is both accurate and compelling.

Structuring Effective Meetings

Planning and organization are the backbone of this endeavor. Every meeting must be carefully structured to maximize productivity. Agendas include updates on research, re-enactor training, logistics, and marketing strategies. It is essential to keep the team engaged while balancing historical accuracy with theatrical entertainment to maintain audience interest. This is perhaps the area where I fail the most. I have to say that my passion lies in creating digital media, everything from restoring old photographs, creating videos for social media, and creating new "old" pictures using artificial intelligence.  Productive meetings are truly made possible due to the dedication of my co-captains and team members.

Choosing Businesses to Highlight

The selection of businesses to showcase is another crucial aspect of the tour. Some establishments have been pillars of Leeds since the 1950s, while others stand on the ground once occupied by long-lost landmarks. By incorporating local businesses into the tour, we not only enrich the historical experience but also strengthen community ties and promote economic engagement. Convincing business owners to participate often requires demonstrating the tour’s value—how it can bring foot traffic, introduce their stories to a wider audience, and celebrate their place in Leeds’ history.

Gaining Community Participation

Perhaps the most challenging yet rewarding aspect of this endeavor is securing participation from the citizens of Leeds. Some locals are eager to share their family histories, while others require encouragement to see the significance of their stories. Convincing residents to join as volunteers or storytellers takes persistence, passion, and diplomacy.

The Joy of Rediscovering Leeds

Despite the hard work, the journey is deeply rewarding. Researching Leeds’ past reveals forgotten narratives and colorful characters that deserve to be remembered. Every connection made—whether with a long-time resident sharing an untold story or a new volunteer eager to participate—adds richness to the experience.

Through my work with the Leeds Historical Society and Leeds Trails and Tours, I have had the pleasure of strengthening my connection to my hometown. This role has introduced me to new friends, reconnected me with old ones, and deepened my appreciation for the town’s legacy.

Making History Accessible

One of the most exciting aspects of this project is finding new ways to make Leeds’ history accessible. Beyond the tour itself, we explore avenues like digital archives, storytelling workshops, and multimedia presentations to engage audiences of all ages. By making history interactive and immersive, we ensure that the stories of Leeds continue to inspire future generations.

As the captain of the 1950s Walking Tour, I face a multitude of challenges, but the rewards far outweigh the difficulties. Each discovery, every participant’s enthusiasm, and every audience member’s newfound appreciation for our town’s past make the effort worthwhile. Leeds, Alabama, is a place rich with history, and I am proud to help share its story.

Leeds 1950's Walking Tour takes place on Saturday April 2025 from 10:00am to 1:30pm. Rain date is April 26 if necessary.

Leeds Trails and Tours

Leeds Historical Society

Dawn’s Embrace on the Tennessee River

 

Before the world fully stirs, before the hum of daily life takes hold, the Tennessee River rests in a state of pure tranquility. The soft hush of lapping water, the mist hovering just above the surface, and the distant call of a lone heron create a moment of perfect stillness.

The sky, still painted in the soft pastels of dawn, reflects in the glassy water, mirroring the promise of a new day. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and the faintest hint of pine. There is a sacred quiet here—one that soothes the soul, reminding us to pause, to breathe, to simply be.

As the first golden rays of sunlight kiss the river’s surface, life begins to stir. Fish ripple the water, a breeze rustles through the trees, and the world slowly wakes—but for these fleeting moments, peace reigns supreme. This is the calm before the storm of daily demands, a time to reset, to gather thoughts, and to carry a piece of this serenity into whatever the day may bring.

The river teaches patience. It reminds us that, like its gentle current, life flows best when we allow ourselves to move with it rather than against it. And so, as the morning sun fully rises, I leave this place of quiet reflection, carrying its peace within me, ready to embrace the day ahead.

The Perks of Growing Old (Sort Of)

Ah, growing old—a journey so mysterious that even Google Maps can’t help you navigate it. One minute you’re 25 and eating tacos at 3 a.m. without consequences, and the next, you're wondering if that third cup of coffee will trigger an existential crisis or just heartburn. Spoiler alert: it's both.

But let’s be real—aging isn’t all bad. For starters, I no longer feel the pressure to "find myself." Turns out, I was on the couch the whole time, eating chips and watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote. And let me tell you, Angela Lansbury has never once judged me for my life choices.

The body, though—that’s where things get...quirky. I can wake up injured from a good night's sleep. I mean, who pulled my hamstring in the middle of the night? Was it the Dream Fairy? Is she running CrossFit in my subconscious?

But here's the twist: getting older is also a license to care less. You hit a certain age, and suddenly it's perfectly acceptable to wear socks with sandals because guess what? Your feet paid their dues. They've seen things—unspeakable things—like Black Friday at the mall and your cousin's DIY wedding on a gravel path. Comfort is a human right, and no fashion police can convince me otherwise.

And wisdom? Oh, wisdom is a sneaky little gift. Like how I’ve learned that "life is too short" doesn't mean you should skydive or start a gluten-free bakery. Sometimes it just means ordering the dessert and the fries. Preferably at the same meal.

So yes, there are wrinkles and creaks and the occasional forgetting-why-you-walked-into-the-room syndrome. But there's also laughter, ridiculous stories, and the joyful realization that the world keeps spinning whether or not you care what people think.

And that, my friends, is the real fountain of youth: unapologetically being yourself, creaky joints and all.

A Time for Compassion: Remembering the Lives Lost in the Midair Collision Near Reagan National Airport

In a heartbreaking and tragic incident, American Eagle Flight 5342, traveling from Wichita, Kansas with 60 passengers and four crew members, collided midair with an Army helicopter carrying three people near Reagan Washington National Airport. The catastrophe has shaken the nation and devastated countless lives.

As news of the accident spread, social media and internet forums ignited with finger-pointing and accusations. Blame has been cast at politicians, the pilots, air traffic controllers, and even the president of the United States—both past and present. But this is not the time for division or blame.

Precious lives were lost. Families are grieving unimaginable losses. Friends and colleagues are left grappling with grief and shock. And while it is clear that a mistake was made—a tragic mistake that will be forever etched into this chapter of history—those involved have either perished because of that error or will have to live with the burden of guilt for the rest of their lives.

Now is the time to lift every victim up to the mercy of God. It’s a time to wrap our arms around the air traffic controller, whose life has been tragically and irrevocably changed. Mistakes, while part of human existence, should not define a person forever. Compassion must have a voice here, even in the face of such sorrow.

We must also pray for peace and healing for the families of those who lost their lives. Their loved ones deserve to be remembered for who they were, not as the subject of political arguments or social media blame games.

Let this be a call for unity. As a nation, let’s choose to respond with love, empathy, and compassion. These are the healing hands that can mend wounds deeper than we can see. May we come together to seek peace and offer comfort where it is needed most.

Snow Day Puddle

Just a little fun after a snow day. This one is for Photo Friday #PUDDLE

 

It's Christmas time again...

 

It’s Christmas once again, and I really try to get into the holiday spirit, but it’s become increasingly difficult as the years pass and I realize that the years ahead of me are fewer than those behind me. So here I am, writing this essay—not for anyone else, but for myself, trying to express these emotions so I can push through them and move on.

For me, Christmas has turned into a time of compromise—struggling to find a balance between its spiritual meaning and its secular aspects. As I grow older, I find myself focusing more on the true essence of Christmas and less on the gifts we give and receive. Our family doesn’t celebrate the way we used to either. In years past, we’d gather at my parents’ house, and that little space would fill up with the warmth of hugs and laughter. Some years, when we couldn’t go to my parents’, we’d host at our house, exchanging gifts and enjoying a Christmas feast, lovingly prepared after weeks of planning. But now it’s become “too much trouble” for everyone to come to our house for the holidays, and that thought weighs on me. I never wanted to be the “trouble” for anyone. Yet, as I write this, I think back on the times when I didn’t visit my own parents because it felt like “too much trouble.” Oh, how I wish I could turn back time and visit them every chance I had, spending endless hours just talking to them. But for now, we compromise. My son and his family will come over, each in separate cars, and my son will stop by the store to grab a small gift for us. I’ll say the blessing before dinner, trying to sound as grateful and uplifting as possible. After the meal, we’ll exchange gifts, and I’ll watch the look of disappointment on their faces when the presents you chose with care are met with expressions of disappointment or comments like, “What is this?” A few hours later, everyone will go their separate ways, quietly scrolling through their phones to avoid conversation. And just like that, one family gathering is over, and another awaits.

That brings me to this morning’s conversation. Our family out of state won’t be joining us for Christmas, so we planned to visit them instead. We debated whether to go on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, and over the weekend, I thought we’d agreed on Christmas Eve. But this morning, as you were preparing to go to work, I asked for clarification on what I needed to do to get ready to leave this afternoon. Your response was, “You never said okay, so I didn’t think we were going today.” Then you added, “I know you wouldn’t want to go at all, since you just don’t feel it.” I wanted to talk about it more, but you didn’t want to engage. After you left for work, I felt disappointed, as though my feelings didn’t really matter.

I’ve earned the title of “Scrooge” during this time of year because I want to spend less on gifts. Living on a fixed income means we have to be more mindful of our spending. We always talk about scaling back on gifts, but every year we end up spending more than we planned. I try to remind you that our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren already have more than they’ll ever need or use. The toys and things we give them will bring joy for only a short while, because there’s always something newer or bigger just around the corner. But please don’t misunderstand me—I don’t begrudge a single gift. I know they are given with love, and that brings you joy. Your generosity is one of the things that make you so special. I love how giving you are, and I know it’s part of who you are.

Now, for the truth that’s hard to admit: I do love Christmas. I love its spiritual meaning, but I also cherish this time of year because it reminds us to pause and think about others—not in a materialistic sense, but in a genuine, heartfelt way. We send greeting cards to friends and family and wish “Merry Christmas” or “Happy New Year” to strangers. If only we could carry that spirit with us all year round, wouldn’t the world be a better place? And wouldn’t it be wonderful if gifts were given from the heart, not just because we feel obligated?

One of the questions I always dread is, “What do you want for Christmas?”

What I want for Christmas is to feel closer to you and our whole family.

What I want for Christmas is to feel that same excitement I once had as a child, waking up early to see what had been left for me under the tree.

What I want for Christmas is one more day, hour, or minute with my mom and dad.

What I want for Christmas is for my failing eyesight to improve so I can marvel at the world around me.

What I want for Christmas is to be able to see more of the beautiful world out there.

What I want for Christmas is for people to treat each other with a little more kindness and respect.

What I want for Christmas can’t be bought in any store. It’s a connection with my family, bound in love.

But most of all, what I want for Christmas is to feel deep gratitude for all the blessings God has given me and to feel connected to the world around me. I want to remember Christ’s sacrifice and God’s grace, and for Christmas to be more than just a holiday—but a spiritual occasion.

I always love the moment in A Charlie Brown Christmas when Linus so beautifully explains what Christmas is really about:

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said to them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."

Merry Christmas, Susan. Your love and companionship are the greatest gifts I could ever ask for. I love you more than you will ever know.

LOST!

 

Once a vibrant shade of yellow, Benny the banana lay forgotten in the vast expanse of a Walmart parking lot, lonely and lost. With the bustling shoppers rushing by, he felt abandoned, his hopes of becoming a delicious snack fading with each passing moment. Beneath the gleaming mid-day sun, he dreamed of a home with loving hands to peel him and savor his sweet flavor, yet here he was, a small fruit adrift in a world of asphalt and chaos.

Photo Friday