Theories abound over how the Green Street community got its name

Grace's Grocery in "downtown" Green Street.

One day last week, I got to talking with a man on the sidewalk between the newspaper office and the post office, and somehow or other the subject of how the Green Street community got its name came up in the conversation. I asked around and no one could seem to agree.

I first checked a book called “Place Names in Alabama” by Virginia O. Foscue, but it contains no information about Green Street. Historical records say that this community, which is located about 20 miles northwest of Evergreen, was a former saw mill town, and Evergreen library historian Sherry Johnston told me that she remembered reading about three men with the last name Green who owned and operated a saw mill in that area. She said that at one time the community was “thickly settled” and even included a commissary and a black smith shop.

Don Green, who lives in Mississippi but has ancestral roots in Conecuh County, said that his third great-grandfather John Green started the first school in Burnt Corn, which isn’t too far from Green Street as the crow flies. Don wonders if Green Street possibly took its name from the school’s founder.

Another man told me that a tale often told in the community is that a long time ago, God and the Devil had a knock-down-drag-out fight in that part of the county. When they finished, the surrounding countryside had been consumed by flames, all except for a strip of green that ran down through the middle of what we now call Green Street. The man who told me this said that he didn’t put much stock in the tale, but he’d heard it all his life.

I got to thinking about all of this last Thursday morning and not having much on my agenda at that time, I loaded up in the truck and headed to Green Street. As many of you know, to get to Green Street from Evergreen, you take State Highway 83 to Lyeffion, then turn left at the school onto County Road 30. From there, you stay on County Road 30, passing through Fairnelson, until you reach County Road 9, where you’ll see a sign for the Green Street AME Zion Church.

County Road 9 will take you to “downtown” Green Street, which on most maps is marked at the intersection of County Road 9 and Green Street Road. Last Thursday, I eased through this crossroads and made my way down to the Green Street African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church, which was founded in 1891. A modern, brick church building sits there today and according to its cornerstone, the sanctuary was built in 1966.

According to the building’s cornerstone, Grand Master J.B. Lett of Pilgrim Masonic Lodge No. 160 conducted the dedication ceremony for the building back when L.S. Moore was the church’s pastor. Alfred G. Dunston was bishop, and W.B. Faddis was church elder. Trustees at that time included Amos Salter, Earlie Grace, Anderson Grace, Frank Dailey, James E. Harris, John Watkins, Bishop Salter, John A. Dailey, Charlie Grace Sr., McKenly Grace and J.M. Grace Sr.

From there, I took a few minutes to explore the church’s cemetery, which is in three sections near the church. One section is behind the church, and the other two sections are across the road. The graveyard immediately across from the church sits on a small hill and some of the graves there go back to the early 1900s.

I continued up County Road 9 to County Road 2, the northernmost limits of the Green Street community, before turning around. As I made my way back to “downtown” Green Street, I made note of the homes I saw there, including a few that looked long abandoned. Others ranged from modern mobile homes to large brick dwellings.

If you ever take the time to visit Green Street, you’ll see a number of shooting houses off in the distance, bird houses nailed here and there to fence posts and light poles, as well as old farm equipment that harken back to the early days of mechanized agriculture. A number of homes also had large family gardens, and one can only imagine the fresh vegetables enjoyed by the community’s hungry residents.

Back at the Green Street crossroads, I turned west and a short distance later pulled into the parking lot of Grace’s Grocery, an old, tin-roofed country store with two gas pumps and a pair of American flags flying under the front porch. I hopped out with an eye toward getting a Coca-Cola, only to find that the store hadn’t opened for the day. After a brief look through the front window, I climbed back in my truck and continued east.

Those of you who have been this way will know that you’ll have to drive over more than a few speed bumps before the pavement eventually turns to dirt. As you continue down, you’ll pass a number of modern chicken houses before coming to a stop sign at County Road 5, which is the Old Federal Road and makes up the border between Conecuh and Monroe counties. I sat there for a moment and decided to go south to see the large Salter monument that I knew was just a short distance down the road.

A minute or two later, I parked at the monument and got out, keeping my eyes open for snakes. This tall, white marker has been there for as long as I can remember and says: James Salter, N.C., 1760-1835, Comsy. 2 Regt., Rev. War, Member State Legislature Ala. 1823-1828, Memorial Erected by Conecuh Chapter 1972 DAR and Descendants Hon. Wiley Salter, Judge Frank T. Salter.

From there, I headed back to the Green Street crossroads and then continued east toward Purnell Methodist Church. As I traveled down this shadowy road, I noted loggers working in the distance and also had a large turkey hen run out in the road in front of me. I attempted to take a picture of her with the camera I had in the truck seat, but she proved too fast.

At the old church, which was founded in 1915, I got out for a look around. This stately wooden church sits at the intersection of County Road 30 and Green Street Road and has been the site of countless services, homecomings, singings, weddings and funerals over the years. I made my way to the cemetery, opened the gate and stepped inside.

I’d never been to this cemetery before, but I knew that my great-great-grandparents – George and Mattie Burt – were buried there. After a brief search, I found their graves there in a small plot under the blazing sun. They died four months apart in 1930. No doubt they would be very surprised by how many descendants they have today.

In the end, I enjoyed my field trip up to the Green Street community, but I’m still at a loss as to how the community got its name. If anyone in the reading audience knows, please let me hear from you. It would be interesting to hear the definitive explanation behind how this community got its distinctive name.