The kingdom an entire community built
Story by Carol Papps
Photos submitted
Much like an armed force swiftly swooping in to save the day, this army of volunteers – 2,000 of them – descended on a 3-acre patch of ground at Pell City Lakeside Park 21 years ago, building an entire playground in less than a week.
Lawyers, judges, bankers, clerks, factory workers, construction crewmen, hourly wage earners, parents, single people – they were all there, even the kids themselves. They were part of the force, armed with tools of the trade under the command of experienced contractors. Shift after shift all week long, they rolled up their sleeves and toiled until it was all done by Sunday afternoon.
What rose from that patch of dirt was nothing short of a wonderland, a kid’s dream come true. There was a pirate ship, a swinging bridge, slides, swings, just about everything imaginable. And for 21 years, imaginations of generations of children ran unfettered in this magical place called Kids Kastle.
It all started months before when Elizabeth Bit Thomaston asked the pivotal question, ‘What if?’ She had visited Madison in north Alabama and saw a playground built by the community. She was so enamored with it, she wondered if it could happen in Pell City.
It could. And it did.
She was executive assistant to then Metro Bank vice president, the late Don Perry, at the time. She went to then President Ray Cox, who also passed away several years ago, seeking his support. He told her if she would do the research and determine if the community would support, he would back her 100 percent.
“I did about a year’s worth of research,” she recalled. She discussed prospects and plans with Leathers and Associates, a company out of New York that specialized in these projects. “I felt like we could do it in Pell City. It’s the kind of community that would support it, that cared about kids.”
She described that year of planning, strategizing, organizing and unleashing an army of volunteers marching toward a single goal as nearly a full-time – all with the backing of Cox and Perry.
The kids really designed it, she said. She and others went into every school asking students what they wanted. As the kids talked about their dream playground – pirate ships and castles – Leathers’ representatives were present to translate their imagination into a design.
Thomaston, with key help from now retired Circuit Judge Bill Hereford, Michele Seay and Kay Adams, organized ‘the troops’ into committees – Public Relations, Tools, Food – about a dozen in all. There were captains commanding each. “To my mind, it was easily the best civic project I’ve ever been involved in,” said Hereford, a former mayor himself.
“There were 2,000 volunteers. It was phenomenal,” Thomaston said.
Businesses, individuals and organizations stepped forward with funding for various pieces of play equipment. Sponsored wooden pickets, bearing the names of families and children – even those who weren’t quite here yet, bordered the playground, significantly helping shoulder the cost. One picket bore the name “Baby Minor.” That would now be Abby Minor, the daughter of District Judge Robert and Christy Minor, a student at Auburn University. Christy was pregnant with her when the playground was being planned.
Thomaston can relate. She was pregnant with Andrew, now 22, when she visited that Madison playground that sparked it all.
Time for work!
All walks of life working side-by-side, reported for work on Tuesday, Oct. 16, with only one common purpose in mind – the kids. By Sunday, Oct. 21, they were holding an historic opening ceremony for the about to be christened, Kids Kastle.
It had been barely a month since terrorists crashed airplanes into the World Trade Center towers, the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania, a time of great tragedy for the country as a whole. Hope was a precious commodity in the days that followed the attack.
But Pell City’s band of volunteers were determined hope would not be lost here at home. “The country was in turmoil,” Thomaston said. “Everybody was scared. We said let’s do this for the kids and show them all is not lost, that we see a future for our kids, hope for the future, and they don’t have to be afraid.”
It was a legacy of love that lived on for more than two decades and now has new life thanks to the city and good corporate citizens making sure Kids Kastle remains central to countless childhood memories.
Many of those who played integral roles in its creation have since passed away, but Thomaston wanted to make sure they, too, are remembered. The money left in original Kids Kastle account was donated in their memory to the city to help rebuild the park: Ray Cox, Don Perry, Ann Day and Bob Day, Curtis and Deanna Capps, Leo Lynch, Gene Morris, Judy Potter, Tim Sweezey, Faye Bivens, Doug Walker and Lance Stella.
They, like so many others, gave of themselves because it was all about the kids. “It took us all – all of our families supporting us,” she said.
Former Mayor Guin Robinson couldn’t agree more. “I have worked on a lot of community projects in my adult life, and I was proud to be a part of them. But this one had a special place all by itself,” he said, emotion evident in his voice as he recounted it. “It was a seminal moment in the history of our community. It was a coming together and becoming a part of something bigger than all of us. I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere.”
He talked of Thomaston’s vision and a community’s will to make it happen. “It’s part of Pell City’s DNA,” Robinson said. “Pell City really is a ‘can do’ place. Everybody had their job, and no job was more important than any other job. I really can’t describe how special it was.”
To Robinson, the memory of it brings to mind an adage that suits the occasion like well-tailored clothing. It just fits. “Volunteers don’t get paid because they’re worthless but because they’re priceless.” At the heart of the entire project was the people, the volunteers.
When officials and organizers worried whether enough workers would show up, “It grew each day,” he said. “Nothing ever wavered.” Inmates worked alongside bankers and lawyers – “there was pride on everyone’s face.”
Calling it a “generational project,” Robinson spoke of its evolution over the years. First was letting the kids design it. “Who better to tell you what they want than kids? Artist Ann Day painted murals. Families with their own kids now would come back to the place they played as a kid. The community built Kids Kastle. When hands touch that, it becomes very personal.”
And a community coming together around a playground became the perfect pairing. “A playground is one of your first and lasting memories,” Robinson said. “The pickets the families purchased were so meaningful. The concept was brilliant. Everyone had a place at Kids Kastle. It was everyone’s equally.”
Robinson likened it to the early days of barn raising, where the whole community comes out to build their neighbor a barn. “The neighbor gets the barn, but what do you get?” It’s that community spirit of neighbor helping neighbor, expecting nothing in return. “It’s a reminder of why we lived there.”
“It was pretty amazing” – 2,000 volunteers, a $150,000+ playground, generations of kids just being kids, letting their imaginations guide them in play, Thomaston said. “There’s never been a project like that in our community. I don’t think there ever will be again.”
