Changes for the former “Czar” of T-Town’s Sister City

No one can deny that Northport‘s former City Administrator for decades has had a significant impact on T-Town‘s “sister city.”

Scott Collins ruled with a velvet fist. (He once even had a “critic” of the city arrested for showing up at a City Council meeting, as reported by the Tuscaloosa NewsEd Enoch.)

Collins started out as a Northport Council member, as reported in the Franklin Stove Blog (FSB):

Collins assumed his job as City Administrator in 2008, after having been elected to the City Council in 2004. His term on the Council expired in 2008 and he did not run again.

Collins left his position as Northport‘s City Administrator in 2016. Reportedly he drove away from Northport in a new Audi with a huge severance check, although he was theoretically a Civil Service employee and not so entitled. In 2016 and 2017, the circumstances of his departure were detailed in FSB posts.

But that’s really just water under the bridge.

Since he left Northport, assuming the role of City Manager for Fairview, Tennessee, Collins has seen many changes. In 2016 The Tennessean‘s Nancy Stephens wrote about Collins acceptance of Fairview‘s offer to become its city manager. His yearly salary of $91,000 was probably less than he’d made as City Administrator in Northport. He was hired as Fairview‘s City Manager with no contract, although in 2017 he was given a three-year contract.

In 2020 Chris Gadd reported in the Nashville Tennessean that Collins had returned “just over a month after taking a leadership position at another Williamson County city” to Fairview. His new contract with the Fairview was open ended with no end date and had a salary increase to $110,000.

Matt Masters reported in The News about the disappointment felt by many over Collins decision to quit his job as Town Administrator in Nolensville. There were questions about Collin’s contract with the city, which allowed him to leave after “90 days of employment but not earlier.” Nolensville‘s Vice Mayor Tommy Dugger said, “I’m just saying that for you to walk out the door on Friday, it’s number one, I think you’re better than that, I may be wrong, but I think you’re better than that and I think you owe us an obligation per the contract.”

Two years later, in November 2022, The local newspapers in central Tennessee were abuzz with the latest facts about changes in Collins‘ career.

The Nashville Tennessean‘s Chris Gadd wrote that Collins had been offered an early retirement on the day after Fairview‘s municipal election. Its outgoing incumbent mayor “didn’t like the idea of Collins in his position through the remainder of the fiscal year.”

The Main Street Fairview‘s Nancy Stephens reported that the Fairview City Commission had approved a Voluntary Separation Agreement with Collins. Stephens wrote:

On November 9, the day after the city election, then-mayor Debby Rainey called a special meeting where a resolution was proposed to terminate Collins’ employment. Rainey motioned to approve the resolution. However, without a second, the board took no action. After the meeting, Rainey resigned her seat as mayor.

Tom Daugherty, who had been the city’s chief finance officer, is currently Fairview‘s City Manager.

Whatever the future for Scott Collins holds, he will doubtlessly come out of top. That’s just the way he runs.


Bring back Prohibition?

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According to Politico‘s Mark Lawrence Schrad, Prohibition was more about destroying “the liquor traffic” than ending the consumption of alcohol. He said that Prohibition was in opposition to “the predatory booze manufacturers and unregulated saloons that made money hand over fist from the drunken misery, addiction and pauperism of their customers.”

You can’t go very far away from the University of Alabama in T-Town without running into a “saloon.” Today’s world isn’t the same as the one that existed during Prohibition. In terms of binge and underage drinking things have really gotten out of hand.

The National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) said this about Underage Drinking:

People ages 12 to 20 drink 4.0 percent of all alcohol consumed in the United States. Although youth drink less often than adults, when they do drink, they drink more. More than 90 percent of all alcohol drinks consumed by youth are consumed through binge drinking

As the Franklin Stove Blog (FSB) posted in 2016, underage drinking in T-Town is driven by bars that cater to students regardless of any city codes. The “saloons” are virtually unregulated. Hard to detect fake IDs make any effective screening for age impossible.

The recent spat of lawsuits in T-Town involving alcohol use by minors reflect all of this, as reported in the FSB. Violence and even deaths are tied to underage drinking in T-Town.

The Gastropub classification in Tuscaloosa‘s codes further complicates matters. Tuscaloosa‘s economy is considerably impacted by alcohol sales.

There is no likelihood that any form of prohibition, or effective enforcement of the city’s underage drinking codes, will happen. The prohibitionists that Schrad wrote about wouldn’t believe what’s going on in T-Town.


‘Tis the Season in which I died…

This installation of the Franklin Stove Blog is a departure from the usual format.

It’s fictional, based on accounts of actual events.

It might even be considered a ghost writ post.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Photo by Cole Keister on

Hi, it’s me Rose. At this time of year I’ve always reflected on the circumstances of my death on Christmas Day.

In 1968 the Crimson Tide’s football team, which was coached by Paul “Bear” Bryant, had by Alabama’s standards a less than stellar year. By the end of the season it had an 8-3 overall record, with two South Eastern Conference losses.

I traveled to Legion Field in Birmingham with my BFF Estelle for the November 3oth, 1968 Iron Bowl. Estelle wasn’t all that into football. She made sure that I was aware of the black “ghetto” that surrounded Legion Field. Every Bama football game in Legion Field was a windfall for the blacks that crammed their yards with as many cars as could possibly fit. Most of them were renters. I don’t know if they split their parking revenue with their landlords.

We watched as my brand new red AMC AMX was somehow parked in the small space that was left in a yard. The guy said that he had never even scratched a car while he was parking. He assured me that he’d never want to damage such a “beaut” of a car as mine.

Actually my Dad chose the car which was painted “Matador” red with two white racing stripes on the hood and trunk. It also had a red interior. The steering wheel was wood rimmed. Its V8 engine was actually too sporty for my tastes. I seldom drove it. On the trip to Birmingham Estelle insisted that I exceed the speed limit, until the highway to Legion Field became so crowded we had to move with a snail’s pace. I was dreading having to drive it home for Christmas Break. My Dad would be salivating at the prospect of getting his hands on it. He was probably looking forward to driving the car at least as much as he was to seeing me again.

The Crimson Tide beat the War Eagles 24 to 16, in a game where the outcome was uncertain until the end when Mike Dean iced the game with a 30 yard field goal. The quarterback Scott Hunter was responsible for most of the Tide’s heroics.

The Tide’s 49-27 victory in the 2022 Iron Bowl in Bryant-Denny Stadium was much more decisive. I wouldn’t attribute its win to the students who’d managed to return to campus after a Thanksgiving Break. As the team spirit I floated among the obnoxious fraternity and sorority students who seemed to be more interested in saying insulting things to any Auburn students in their vicinity than the game. Some Auburn fans began to throw drinks at Alabama students. At the start of the fourth quarter the Godawful flashing red lights started up to the tune of the hillbilly anthem “Dixieland Delight.” Most of the students reverted to a formerly banned practice during the song and periodically chanted “Fuck Auburn.”

Fits my life, oh so right,
My Dixieland Delight.


The Rammer-Jammer chant at the game’s end was more vitriolic than usual too.

Hey Auburn!
Hey Auburn!
Hey Auburn!
We just beat the hell outta’ you!
Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer
Give ’em hell, Alabama!

Every December I always have thoughts about how I left my mortal existence. After Tutwiler Hall, my previous home away from life, was demolished on the Fourth of July, I didn’t wind up in Heaven or Hell but in Bryant-Denny Stadium.

In 1968, I’d returned home from the University of Alabama for Christmas break. I had recently, as a sophomore, moved into a room on the eleventh floor of what was then a brand new Tutwiler Hall. That was the second long road trip in my new AMX.

My parents, particularly my father, were perhaps the biggest Alabama football fans in the world. My Dad lived by the gospel of The Bear. He considered Paul “Bear” Bryant as the “winningest coach of all time,” even though he was really down on the list for coaches with the most victories. I was even named Rose after the 1926 Rose Bowl victory of the Crimson Tide over the Huskies. If I’d been born a boy I might have been named Johnny after the Alabama quarterback Johnny Mack Brown who led the team to victory. Or maybe even Paul. I was their only child so Dad never had a son that he could name Johnny or Paul. Of course, that’s also why they insisted that I enroll at the University of Alabama. Dad said that he worked too hard to go to many games. I had been his representative at games.

My parents had decorated the house for Christmas in 1968 with an Alabama theme. The tree had crimson balls and had houndstooth, black and white ribbon interlaced in the branches. Bear Bryant was known for his iconic houndstooth fedora. Mom had covered the dining room table with a crimson velvet tablecloth. The wreaths that hung on the sconces were decorated like the tree, with crimson balls and houndstooth ribbons. It was truly a Yule Crimson Tide décor.

The dress that I wore, while walking into my parents’ bedroom on Christmas Day, was also made of a crimson velvet material. I actually matched the tablecloth in the dining room. I was feeling kind of bored, while waiting for our traditional Christmas day “feast.” I aimlessly searched through the drawers of the bedroom dresser. Then I discovered Dad’s handgun. I didn’t know anything about guns. I picked it up and thought about carrying it with me to the dining room. I would aim it at my head in front of my folks as a gesture of my abhorrence towards the Yuletide spirit.

I rehearsed pointing it at my head in front of the big mirror that hung over the dresser. I didn’t know that the gun was loaded or that it had a “hair trigger.” The next thing I knew was that, after my brains were splattered over the bedroom’s walls, I found my spirit transported back on the eleventh floor of Tutwiler Hall. One thing was certain. My parents’ Christmas celebration had turned into a nightmare for them.

My friend Estelle was searching for me after the Christmas break. She’d bought me a present. I never found out what it was. When she found out about my “suicide,” her eyes welled with tears and her body shook as she sobbed uncontrollably. I wish I could have reached out to her, as my spectral form stood right next to her. I would’ve told her that what happened wasn’t really a suicide. It was just me being stupid and melodramatic. That was the beginning of my over fifty years of haunting Tutwiler Hall. Every Christmas I’m reminded of how I ended up in my home away from life. This is the first Noel that I’ve haunted Bryant-Denny Stadium. I’m having another Yule Crimson Tide, but this time I’m truly the team spirit.


Let’s Go Peay!

This installation of the Franklin Stove Blog is a departure from the usual format.

It’s fictional, based on accounts of actual events.

It might even be considered a ghost writ post.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Photo by Happy Donut on

When I heard a bunch of fans in the stadium yelling, “Let’s go Peay!,” I at first thought that they were all going to the head. But I quickly realized that Bama was playing Austin Peay, which is a school out of Tennessee, not Texas.

Considering the low student turnout, I surmised that Alabama’s Coach Saban might be pissed by the lack of team support. Only about a quarter of the student section was full. And the blocks that were largely empty would’ve been filled by Greeks. You didn’t see a lot of people wearing those big round buttons with the Greek alphabet letters of a sorority, with “Love” (spelled with a heart instead of an “o”), and “Tide.”

The University’s Thanksgiving break didn’t start until after the weekend. I would’ve have thought that more students would’ve braved the chilly weather in order to support their team.

There’s an idea that many University students are mainly on campus to party and that they mainly chose Bama because of its winning football team. Did the fact that the football team had a couple of last minute, narrow losses, which excluded it from playing in a college football playoff, dampen the enthusiasm of some students? That’s who I would call spoiled fans, or “Rolltards.”

Many of the Greek affiliated students must have packed up on Friday, loading their soiled laundry into their BMW and Lexus sedans or into Ford 150 trucks, equipped with loud exhausts, to return to their lavish homesteads. Maybe some of their parents might’ve questioned their decision to skip the game. “Show some team spirit!”

The Austin Peay Governors were dispatched by the Crimson Tide by the end of the game. Were players affected by all of the empty seats in the stadium? I don’t think that’s likely but you never know.

Next weekend’s game against Alabama’s instate rival Auburn will involve the storied “Bragging Rights.” The game has been called the Iron Bowl. There are a lot of fraternity parties on campus scheduled. Maybe the Greeks will show up for the game so they”ll have an excuse to party afterwards?

As a ghost, I’m truly a team spirit. Of course since I haunt the stadium I’m there for all of the games. Maybe I’ll bob up in the student section during the Iron Bowl and be a ghostly visitant of all of the Rolltards?


A Greek Reformation at Bama?

This installation of the Franklin Stove Blog is a departure from the usual format.

It’s fictional, based on accounts of actual events.

It might even be considered a ghost writ post.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Photo by Heloisa Vecchio on

Hey, it’s me, Rose, again. I’ve been catching up on stories published in the Crimson White. Thank goodness that I can find copies of the campus paper in the stadium’s Digital Media Center!

There was a story about members of the Alabama Panhellenic Association, the National Pan-Hellenic Council and the Interfraternity Council attending a meeting about “diversity, equity and inclusion efforts in APA sororities and the entire Greek system.”

What I wondered about was the claim in the article by a new member of Alpha Phi that she hadn’t been aware of how its president had been ousted from the sorority after a racist text exchange.

According to the article the newcomer had said, “They told me what had happened, and it was shocking because the girls I was surrounded by in the house did not seem anything like those girls.”

The sorority’s ousted president had texted from inside a Tuscaloosa bar: “I’m gonna yack, it smells so bad in here.” Another expelled member had responded, “cigs, weed and black girl.”

I guess that it’s possible that the newcomer hadn’t known anything about it. What makes me wonder about it all is how someone so capable of such racism could actually be president of the sorority in the first place?

I guess Estelle would be amazed, to the extent that she cared at all about any Greek matters, that the first black woman was elected to be president of the Alabama Panhellenic Association. No other black had been president in the 100 years since the APA’s founding. 

The APA has been comprised of over 7,000 women students, the vast majority of whom are lily white. The fact that a black member of Kappa Delta is now APA’s president is truly outstanding. I mean she will definitely stand out among the other blonde and brunette APA officers. Only nine years ago APA was exclusively white. There was a Crimson White article in 2013 about how APA sororities had systemically excluded at least two black women during recruitment.

My BFF Estelle never joined a black sorority, and certainly never would’ve joined a mostly white one had that been possible in the Sixties. She had lived in Tutwiler Hall with me. After I became a ghost in 1968 she didn’t even know that I was around though.

Well, I guess progress slowly marches on at Bama? Still its past doubtlessly will continue to haunt it. I’ll make sure of that!


T-Town’s got litigation!


Throughout the nation there have been multiple lawsuits where alcohol use has been a factor on college campuses and in college towns. T-Town has had its share of lawsuits.

In T-Town, the wrongful death lawsuit against Terry J. Bunn Jr. over Alabama student Megan Rondini, which was settled in 2021, received a great deal of publicity. It had been alleged that the twenty year-old Rondini had been raped after being intoxicated or drugged. She reportedly had been picked up at a local bar by Bunn.

The mother of Schuyler Bradley filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Zachary Profozich and a Tuscaloosa bar, The Bear Trap, as reported by‘s Carol Robinson. Bradley was shot to death twenty-five minutes after Profozich had left the bar.. Allegedly the bar “continued to sell alcohol to Profozich even though he was visibly intoxicated.”

A recent lawsuit was reported by ABC 33/40‘s Ben Culpepper in which the Sigma Chi fraternity, Iota Iota and a current Alabama football player were named as the defendents. Culpepper wrote that a pledge Logan Herring had been given alcohol at a fratenity party even though he was underage at the time. Reputedly he was “negligently, wantonly, and recklessly kicked and punched [in] his head numerous times.”

Now, as reported by CBS 42‘s AJ Holliday, the Gray Lady bar is being sued by the parents of Garrett Walker for negligence and the wrongful death in the death of their son. Reputedly the bar had served Walker, even though he was underage, while he was intoxicated. Gray Lady employees reportedly even drank with him. Walker subsequently died from an accidental drowning in the Black Warrior River.

These lawsuits probably represent only the tip of the ice berg when it comes to alcohol related problems in T-Town. The enforcement of codes prohibiting the sale of alcohol to minors has been considered difficult, in part due to the availability of hard to detect fake IDs. While the vast majority of University of Alabama students are minors, that hasn’t affected the proliferation of bars and gastropubs in T-Town. There must be a large market for student drinkers. On Saturday game days large crowds also complicate code enforcement.

There is a significant drinking social culture that exists for fraternities. The City of Tuscaloosa approves a prodigious number of “special events retail licenses” for Greek events each year. Some of the events, such as the “Dazed and Confused Event” take place on farmland that is outside of the city’s police jurisdiction.

Lawsuits in T-Town won’t undo the damage that results from alcohol use and probably won’t even deter future tragedies.The sale of alcohol is just too lucrative a business.


My first All Hollows Eve in the Stadium

This installation of the Franklin Stove Blog is a departure from the usual format.

It’s fictional, based on accounts of actual events.

It might even be considered a ghost writ post.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Photo by Jamo Images on

During the Alabama/Mississippi State game on October 22nd I didn’t notice many fans wearing Halloween costumes. I guess because it was the Homecoming game and mums were the word? On the weekend before Halloween there was no game because the football team had an off-week.

One thing at the Homecoming game that jumped out at me wasn’t a skeleton. The Homecoming Queen’s escort during the halftime presentation of the Homecoming Court was another female. Maybe my eyes deceived me or have times have really changed since I was last alive in the stadium in 1968?

Of course I also got a reprieve from those Godawful red, flashing lights! For some reason the house lights remained blissfully white during most of the game. Don’t blame me. I haven’t figured out how to change the settings on the light board, even if I could.

After the Homecoming game there was this dude who was arrested for an “assault with bodily fluids” after he spit on these guys who he’d had an argument with. That makes me kinda glad I’m incorporeal!

I had been looking forward to, with my bird’s eye view from the stadium, checking out the sororities on Colonial Drive where Trick or Treat on Sorority Row had been scheduled. The event was cancelled due to the weather.

Participants had been told to not bring any props that resemble dangerous or deadly weapons.

But they were also asked to refrain from wearing masks! What’s a costume without a mask?

I got to thinking. Yeah, the kids would’ve still been cute in their costumes, particularly without any “dangerous or deadly weapons.”  But what was going on with the sorority members? How would the kids be protected?

Surely no bipolar girls would’ve been allowed to hand out candy. What about the state of mind of a girl who had just caught her boyfriend shagging her best friend at a swap? What about the serious alcoholics? They all must be alcoholics to some extent.  I don’t really understand the social dynamic, where most mixed events involve booze? For the Treat or Treat event were they going to screen out the girls who’ve recently had a traumatic personal experience? “Oh, honey, you’ve just had too hard a week to be handing out candy to a bunch of brats.”

Maybe I’m just too hard on the sorority girls? That’s my bad. I’m basically a loner. At least I was when I was still alive. Now I most certainly am. I wasn’t a joiner. I couldn’t even stay in any religious affiliation for long. To me sororities are like cults. They have their little secretive chants hand signs and rituals. They wear matching clothing. Yuk!

I was wondering if they would be handing out candy corn. As a kid. I once ate too much of the orange and yellow corn kernel shaped candy and was never able to eat it again. I always thought that the bevy of blonde sorority sisters kind of resembled the corn candy. Yellow on top.

There was a light fog on the morning of Halloween. Most of the rest of the day was fairly overcast. The skies cleared by the late afternoon but, during the morning in the dreary fog, I could imagine hearing the wailing of the Rolltards — as one person in the Founders Suites once had called them. Rolltards are the fans that find any loss by the team unbearable and are irreconcilably miserable when the Crimson Tide isn’t the national champion. But I’m sure any such voices were only the product of my imagination. I thought that Rolltards on Halloween might resemble pumpkins that had begun to deteriorate after being lit for too long.

Since there was nothing else to do on All Hallows Eve in the stadium, I just did my usual routine. I visited the Digital Media Center to see if there were any copies of the Crimson White lying around. I didn’t see a ton of Halloween decorations there. I looked down on Evergreen Cemetery just in case there were any spooks floating around. They must have all been resting in peace?

I don’t know what I was really expecting to see on Halloween. I guess I should be happy to have had another weekend without the stadium’s lightshow. No cheerleader was shouting, “Lights up, lights down!” I would imagine that, if there’d been a game on October 29th in the stadium, I would have seen all kinds of zombies and monsters dancing while “Dixieland Delight” was blared over the stadiums’ speakers. That’s vomit territory for sure.

In Tutwiler Hall girls always decorated for Halloween and wore cool costumes. I miss that part of Halloween. They had a ghost right in their midst and most didn’t know it. Some may have sensed my presence, but certainly not my best friend forever Estelle. While she was still in the residence hall, I kept track of her but she never seemed to be aware of me. If I had ever been the Homecoming Queen, Estelle would surely have been my escort.

Unlike any Trick or Treat ghost costumes, my appearance is always pretty normal, that is if you think that that the crimson velvet dress I wore on Christmas Day was normal. That was what I wore in my last moment in a corporeal state before the gun went off. I’ll always be haunted by the question of just why that happened.


No Joy In T-Town

Photo by Fabricio Trujillo on

To rephrase Lawrence Thayer‘s “Casey At The Bat”:

There is no joy in T-Town—mighty Bama has been beaten by the Vols.

In a game of arguably controversial officiating, the Crimson Tide football team on the “Third Saturday in October” lost a game against the University of Tennessee Volunteers for the first time in fifteen years. The final score was 52-49. At one point there was actually a heated dispute among the officials about which down was being played that led to a lengthy video review. There was a record of seventeen penalties for Bama. In the first quarter alone the Crimson Tide was penalized for fifty-four yards.

Many fans in T-Town, unable to travel to Knoxville, watched the CBS Game of the Week on their flat screen televisions. Coverage began with College Game Day. The pre-game show featured former Volunteer quarterback Peyton Manning leading the Pride of the Southland band’s rendition of “Rocky Top.” The song originated as a bluegrass Christmas tune in 1967. According to Wikipedia the song is about a “city dweller’s lamentation over the loss of a simpler and freer existence in the hills of Tennessee.”

As a taunt to Bama fans, the song Dixieland Delight, a staple at Alabama games, was played over the stadium’s loudspeakers after the Tennessee victory. Its lyrics contain: “Rollin’ down a backwoods, Tennessee byway…”

During the College Game Day broadcast before the game, there were a couple of scatological signs held by Tennessee fans. One said that Alabama Coach Saban sits on the toilet when he urinates. Another said that Bama fans wipe before they defecate. Tennessee fans are uniquely rabid and are infamous for pelting opposing teams with beer cans, mustard bottles and other projectiles. Some fans were dressed as mustard bottles during the Game Day show.

After the game Tennessee fans, either under the influence of alcohol or drunk with the joy of victory, stormed the field and tore down the goalposts. This resulted in a South Eastern Conference fine of $100,000 for “violating the league’s access to competition area.”

As enthusiastic as Bama fans are, it is very unlikely that they will ever tear down goalposts, hold scatological signs or pelt the field with cans and bottles. Leave that to fans from a “backwoods Tennessee byway.”


Gimme that ole time religion!

This installation of the Franklin Stove Blog is a departure from the usual format.

It’s fictional, based on accounts of actual events.

It might even be considered a ghost writ post.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Photo by Shelagh Murphy on

Hey, it’s me–Rose–from where my incorporeal form resides in Bryant Denny Stadium.

The Alabama Texas A&M game on the second weekend of October was a real nail biter. Alabama won by a mere four points with the final score being twenty-four to twenty.

The Crimson Tide‘s Heisman Trophy winning quarterback was unable to play. His replacement made some good plays but also plays that led to turnovers. And Texas A&M, without those turnovers, would doubtlessly have been far less competitive.

During the game I observed that, when fans at the stadium were worried, they’d clasp their sweaty hands as if they were praying. I bet there were more prayers said in the stadium on Saturday than in churches on the following Sunday.

Although Coach Saban and the team finally managed to find deliverance for the Crimson Tide, many fans ceased praying and began chanting the “Rammer Jammer” cheer.

Hey Aggies!
Hey Aggies!
Hey Aggies!
We just beat the hell outta you!
Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer
Give ’em hell, Alabama!

Considering the fact that Alabama barely squeaked out a victory over the Aggies, I wondered if was legitimate for fans to claim that they beat the hell out of anyone?

Once more I felt that I was transported into a version of a surreal Fellini movie. Perhaps some fans will confess to a priest about their untoward pride in Bama‘s miracle victory?

Of course, I can imagine that all of the campus watering holes were doing a lot of business after the game. Maybe after a few drinks, some of the fans didn’t recall how sweaty their palms had become during the game?

I remember a professor once explaining the reason that many students had sweaty palms during exams. He said that eccrine sweat glands are highly concentrated in the hands. They’re connected to our sympathetic nervous system, which kicks in when we’re stressed. That’s what he said anyway.

By the end of the game a few Bama cheerleaders were perched on the shoulders of other cheerleaders. Female Bama cheerleaders are just the right size to be hoisted and are tossable. They aren’t top heavy.

Some Bama fans might seem to be “hoist with one’s own petard,” as the Bard wrote, when they make the claim that “We just beat the hell outta you!” Maybe they should just toss out the Rammer Jammer cheer?


Old times they are not forgotten?

Photo by Pixabay on

A 2020 post in the Franklin Stove Blog (FSB) “Pride & Prejudice at Bama” included:

Lewis Bolling wrote an account of the celebration that took place after the University of Alabama football team’s 1926 victory at the Rose Bowl. He described how the Million Dollar Band marched down Greensboro Avenue. A speaker at the event bragged that the team was unbeatable when the band played “Dixie.”

The lyrics of Dixie (I Wish I Was in Dixie) contain:

I wish I was in the land of cotton,
Old times they are not forgotten;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
In Dixie Land where I was born,
Early on one frosty mornin,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Then I wish I was in Dixie, hooray! hooray!
In Dixie Land I’ll take my stand to live and die in Dixie,
Away, away, away down South in Dixie,
Away, away, away down South in Dixie.

Sheila Gaffney wrote:

“Dixie” is a song with music and lyrics by the Northerner Daniel Decatur Emmett (included in the Artists, Movements and Ideas section of the Song of America database.) His song was first performed in a minstrel show in New York City in 1859, but it soon swept the South, and when Confederate President Jefferson Davis took the oath of office in 1861, the band played “Dixie.” Southern troops marched into battle singing the song, and it lifted the spirits of the pro-slavery South for all the years of the war. The composer, who supported the Union, is reported to have said, “If I had known to what use they were going to put my song, I’ll be damned if I’d have written it.”

The Crimson White‘s Raelee Sents wrote about an attempt by University students and faculty to remove the word “Dixie” from “Yea Alabama” fight song. Sents reported:

The Delete Dixie Initiative, a new campus coalition of students and faculty working to remove the word ‘Dixie’ from ‘Yea Alabama,’ unveiled their new website on Thursday.

Lyrics to to Yea Alabama proclaim that the Alabama team is “Dixie’s football pride.”‘s Ben Flanagan wrote: “

Official campus organizations who endorse the initiative include the Black Faculty and Staff Association (BFSA) and Social Work Association for Cultural Awareness (SWACA).

It is unknown just how many players for the Crimson Tide are actually aware that their fight song refers to a Confederate anthem that extols the virtues of being in the “land of cotton.”

As recounted in a FSB post, Head Football Coach Nick Saban led “a march of Alabama athletes on August 31st, 2020 that put an exclamation mark on his previous statements on racial equality and justice. The March event was in response to a police officer in Kenosha, Wisconsin having shot Jacob Blake seven times in the back on August 23rd. Blake’s shooting inspired protests throughout the country that were similar to those that occurred after the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota, on May 25, 2020.”

It would be reasonable to assume that many players would welcome removing the word “Dixie” from the fight song.

The website for the Delete Dixie Initiative asks “How do we want to be remembered?”:

Throughout American history, the term “Dixie” has been used in a direct or indirect reference to the Confederacy and the institution of slavery. One of the most well-known uses of the term comes from the 1859 song, “Dixie”. The song was first performed by a minstrel group, a group of white performers dressed in blackface. The performance was intended to represent a freed Black slave longing to return to the plantation of his birth. Soon after, the song became wildly popular in the south and was used as a Confederate war song. In fact, after Jefferson Davis took his oath of office to serve as the president of the Confederacy, the band played “Dixie”. The term “dixie” grew in popularity between the 1860s-1900s, often used in tandem with the Confederate flag, Ku Klux Klan groups, and other racially insensitive iconography. This was only the beginning. 

It is because of these ties-to the Confederacy, to racial subjugation, to a time of slavery and racial violence-that we must make a change. The University of Alabama considers itself the place where legends are made. We must now decide the kind of legend we hope to leave behind. We are not the pride of “dixie”, or of the “Old South”, but instead, the pride of the state of Alabama.

The site contains a moving video that explains the initiative’s objectives.

At one point in time during a yearly event at the Kappa Alpha fraternity at the University a large Confederate national flag covered the front of its house on campus. A 2010 story by the Associated Press reporter Jay Reeves reported that the wearing Confederate uniforms to “Old South” parties and parades was banned by the The Virginia-based Kappa Alpha Order.

The Yea Alabama fight song is just another reminder of the University of Alabama’s lamentable past. The names of many buildings on campus that bore the names of notoriously racist figures have been changed. WVUA‘s Keli Stiglich covered the renaming of Graves Hall. Former Governor Bibb Graves had been elected with the help of the Ku Klux Klan in his first successful gubernatorial bid in 1926. The building was renamed Autherine Lucy Hall. Hall was the first black student on campus.

While the Delete Dixie Initiative wants the Yea Alabama fight song changed, for some reason, it has no objections to the hokey, country song “Dixieland Delight” being featured at Alabama games, where cheerleaders have mimicked a cowboy whirling a rope and the team’s mascot Big Al has led a frenzied student crowd during a pulsating light show.

Any mention of Dixie — the “land of cotton”– should be considered an affront to contemporary moral values and an insult to both black and white athletes. But only so much progress can be expected at the University of Alabama.

After all, Home Sweet Alabama is a staple tune that is played at Alabama sports events. The song was written in response to Neil Young‘s 1970 song “Southern Man.” The song was about Lily Belle, who had golden brown hair and a black boyfriend. The song lyrics were:

Southern man, better keep your head
Don’t forget what your good book said
Southern change gonna come at last
Now your crosses are burning fast
Southern man

Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” lyrics are:

I miss Alabamy once again and I think it’s a sin, yes

Well I heard Mister Young sing about her
Well I heard ol’ Neil put her down
Well I hope Neil Young will remember
A southern man don’t need him around anyhow

Maybe, at the University of Alabama, those crosses aren’t burning fast enough?