William James "Jimmy" Fitch

February 14, 1948  -  September 29, 2025

LHS '66

William James “Jimmy” Fitch, 77, of Huntsville passed away Monday, September 29th.

Jimmy was born on February 14, 1948, in Huntsville to Clarence Rufus Fitch and Ruth Wood Fitch. He graduated from Lee High School and then served his country in the US Marine Corp. Jimmy was a lifelong salesman working in various industries.

He loved fishing and baseball and collected ballcaps and knives. His collection included over 300 ballcaps. Known for being thrifty, Jimmy’s favorite saying was “No one can make a penny cry more than me.”

Jimmy was best known for his devotion to his wife, Linda. They were married for 45 years, and he spoke fondly about her every day following her death in 2015. In addition to Linda, he was preceded in death by his parents and his siblings, Helen Goodman, Mary Anderson, and Butch Fitch.

Survivors include his nephew and best friend, Mike Goodman; niece, Kitty Goodman; nephew, Steve Anderson; niece, Cathy Gooch; and brothers-in-law, James Sapp and wife, Dorothy (the daughter he never had), and Bobby Sapp (Janet).

The Courthouse Square

Tommy Towery

LHS '64

Here is what Microsoft's Co-Pilot has to report about the Madison County Courthouse.

Ah, Madison County’s old Courthouse Square in Huntsville—now that’s a place where history and ambition collided in dramatic fashion.

🏛️ The Courthouse Legacy

Madison County has had four courthouses on the same square since the early 1800s:

• First Courthouse (1811–1839): A modest structure reflecting early Federal style.

• Second Courthouse (1840–1913): Designed by George Steele, this Greek Revival gem featured Doric columns, a hexastyle portico, and classical symmetry inspired by Asher Benjamin’s Practice of Architecture.

• Third Courthouse (1914–1966): A stately building with a clock tower and columned façade, it anchored the square for over 50 years.

• Current Courthouse (1967–present): A stark departure—tall, boxy, and modernist, often described as “a giant 8-track tape jammed into the ground”.

🚀 Space Age vs. Southern Charm

In the 1960s, Huntsville was riding high on its space-race identity. With Wernher von Braun and NASA engineers designing the Saturn V rocket nearby, civic leaders wanted architecture that screamed “Jetsons,” not “Gone with the Wind.” So they demolished the 1914 courthouse—along with other historic buildings like the Elks Theatre and Carnegie Library—to make way for a modern skyline.

Local businesses even hailed the new courthouse as “The Court House That Space Built!!!”

🏙️ Preservation and Regret

Today, many preservationists lament the loss of those architectural treasures. The square, once a showcase of Southern elegance, now features a mix of high-rises and parking lots that reflect Huntsville’s rapid transformation—but also its architectural growing pains.

Here is the text about the Courthouse from my book "The Baby Boomer's Guide to Growing Up in the Rocket City."

Madison County Courthouse - According to Barbara Wilkerson Donnelly, the Courthouse was an ancient stone building, located in Huntsville's town center. Massive pillars supported each of its four sides, and on top of the courthouse sat an enormous clock with four faces visible from north, south, east, and west. The clocks were never synchronized, but no one ever cared. The pace was slow in those days, and it was of no monumental concern if one was a few minutes late for an appointment. Life was easy and lovely.

The group of buildings facing the west side of the courthouse was called Cotton Row, and it was her favorite side. Its cobble-stoned sidewalks had shifted with age and made walking very precarious in rainy weather. 

To her the Courthouse looked down upon all places - solid, safe, and dependable to a small child. When she entered the courthouse, she always noticed faint, musty odor antiseptic cleansers failed to cover. There was a beauty in the sunshine, when it filtered through the panes and the ever-present dust motes. Spidery webs hung from the corners of the high soot-darkened ceilings, and the old wooden floors inside the dark corridors creaked out in protest at the slightest weight. There was a concession stand, operated by a blind man, Mr. Blackwell, and his wife who was also slowly losing her sight. Barbara once asked the old man how he could tell the difference between a one-dollar bill and a five-dollar bill. He replied, "Easy, child. There is a difference of four dollars." She still couldn't understand how he knew, and it was many years later before she realized that he was making a joke.

The Courthouse was an unofficial congregation center for the town. Early Saturday morning, folks arrived - farmers in red, flannel shirts and faded blue coveralls, middle-aged men with thermoses of coffee, and frail older men wearing the ever-present hats and button-up navy sweaters. They almost always drove either a black Chrysler or Studebaker. They usually chewed tobacco with true dedication and fervor! Barbara remembers as a child dodging enormous globs of brown tobacco juice, which had been spat rather carelessly in anyone's direction.

Barbara also remembers the shrubbery, which was trimmed into the shape of rabbits at Easter, and rows and rows of great oak trees. The ever-present children would dart back and forth to the water fountain, where the old State Trooper, Mr. Ryan, wearing his ten-gallon hat, would lift them up for a quick drink of water. Her favorite game was hide-and-seek, and she was usually drawn to the statue of the Confederate soldier, standing between two colossal oak trees. She often snuggled down next to the statue's base, her heart pounding while she hid. Sometimes she dozed under the soldier's protective gaze as she waited to be found. 

“I remember the water fountains - one reading ‘White’ and one reading ‘Colored," recalls Barbara. “I used to think this meant that the non-white fountain had colored water. That was my first introduction to segregation, I suppose. I remember being very sad the day my mother explained the significance of the two fountains to me.”

  The Courthouse was a center of warmth - a place where one could swap stories or discuss the price of nails with his neighbor. Even though the old Courthouse was weather beaten and gray, it had a heart. For Barbara it remains a symbol of the past - a guardian of the memories of a young girl who grew up in Huntsville, Alabama, in another time, another day. 

My memories differ very little from Barbara’s, and the ones that do are probably because of the difference in a young boy’s and a young girl’s perception. Since Barbara has done such a wonderful job of describing the Courthouse, I will only give the highlights of some of my memories.

  To me, the preaching on the steps of the Courthouse on Saturday was exciting and worth going to see if I arrived downtown too early for the movie. Also one of the Yankee invaders from the North to whom we rented a room (we called them "roomers"), would take his guitar down and play it on the steps on Saturdays. The whittling of cedar sticks with very sharp pocket knives is covered elsewhere in my book, but it was a very popular activity on the Courthouse steps.

One very special memory is the quietness of the Courthouse Square on the late nights when I emerged from the dances at Bradley’s and how aware I became of the ringing in my ears after dancing all night in front of the band. The cool night air would chill me even in the summer, since I usually left Bradley’s with my clothes soaking wet with sweat. 

Skip Cook has a different perception of the Courthouse, since he didn’t move to Huntsville until 1960 when his dad retired from the Navy and took a job at Redstone Arsenal. Skip can't recall every going downtown anywhere he lived before that time and was amazed at actually seeing a courthouse.  “I remember liking the Courthouse Square. I seem to remember that the water fountains on the outside of the Courthouse had plaques or signs that indicated that they were placed there by the Women's Christian Temperance Union (W.C.T.U.).  I also remember it was the first time that I had ever seen water fountains that were separately marked for ‘White’ and ‘Colored.’ Being raised on Navy bases, I hadn't really experienced segregation before.” 

To Rainer Klauss, as a young lad growing up in the shadow of the Cold War, Armed Forces Day became a favorite holiday. In 1953 the first public display of an American guided missile happened, and it happened in Huntsville. The “Hermes,” was displayed on Courthouse Square on Armed Forces Day. Huntsville really knew how to celebrate back then. For the Armed Forces Day celebration planned for Saturday, May 18, 1957, (pictured above), The Huntsville Times predicted the biggest variety of rockets and guided missiles ever assembled publicly would be on display downtown. 

The rockets included the Nike family, the Dart, Little John, Honest John, Lacrosse, Corporal, and Redstone missiles. Other antiquated weapons, such as howitzers, were displayed as well.  As Rainer hurried off the bus, he excitedly dashed right over to the Nike Ajax and the Nike Hercules - our nation’s last line of defense against Soviet bombers.  

  In the end, Soviet bombers never posed a threat to the Courthouse, but instead the destruction came from within. In 1964, the same year I graduated from Lee and moved away from Huntsville, the city planners did what the Soviets failed to do. They demolished the Courthouse that had existed long before we were born and replaced it with a modern symbol of glass and steel that was supposed to better represent the progress we were making in “The Rocket City.”

“Courthouse Square Serenade”

Music Created By Tommy Towery With AI Music Generator

Lyrics

[Verse]

Saturday morning sun hits the bricks

Huntsville's alive with its usual tricks

Madison County wakes up slow

Pocket knives dance where the cedar shaves go

[Prechorus]

The air smells like stories and wood

Where time’s gone missing but life’s understood

[Chorus]

Courthouse square in the southern glow

Farmers in overalls carving dreams that grow

Banjo strings hum and the gospel’s loud

Hellfire whispers from the preacher's shroud

[Verse 2]

Confederate statue stands

Stone and still

Silent witness on the courthouse hill

Banjo laughs and a guitar cries

Truth and legend meet under Alabama skies

[Chorus]

Courthouse square in the southern glow

Farmers in overalls carving dreams that grow

Banjo strings hum and the gospel’s loud

Hellfire whispers from the preacher's shroud

[Bridge]

The past and present wrestle here

In cedar curls and a soldier’s leer

Stories carved and songs take flight

On a Huntsville square in the morning light

The Wayback Machine

"Radar Men from the Moon"

 Chapter 5 - Murder Car

We continue the serial this week, just like they did back in the movies during our times.

Lee Lunch Bunch

Lee High ‘64, ‘65, ‘66 Classmates

Oct. 23, 2025 @ 11:00 a.m.

Carrabba’s Restaurant

(Parkway Place Mall)

Please RSVP by Oct. 20th so the restaurant will know how many will be attending, for staffing purposes.

Patsy Hughes Oldroyd

256-431-3396

patsykeith2025@outlook.com

(Note: This is a new email address for Patsy.

 Old att.net email is no longer available.)

                            OR

Judy Fedrowisch Kincaid

256-656-3667

njkincaid@hotmail.com

We just got back from a 10-day cruise to Alaska, so that is why I did not get all the comments posted last week. We did not have internet on the cruise. It rained every day we were in ports, and our stop in Ketchikan was caneclled due to high winds at the port. 

Last Week's Questions, Answers, And Comments

Darla Steinberg,  LHS ‘66, "The AI generated songs are just fascinating to me. However, I am sure professional songwriters must be terribly unhappy about this development."

Craig Bannecke, LHS ‘65, "So enjoyed your article on Big Spring Park Pool.  Brought back a lot of childhood memories for me as I spent many summer days at the pool.  We lived in Lakewood and Jim Harris and his sister Nancy and eldest sister Linda who went to Butler would all be taken downtown to the pool by Jim's mother and left there for the day. WE would take a quarter, a brown bag with our lunch in it, and spend the day at the pool.  Around 4:00 pm Mrs Harris or a neighborhood mother who's child had gone with us would come pick us up.  Those were innocent days back then as there is no way today parents could or would leave their young kids downtown all day alone. At best, we were watched over by an older brother or sister, who frankly didn't watch over you much. You mentioned how cold the water was and yes, that was a significant emotional experience to say the least. Don't think in my entire life I have ever spent time in a pool with water that cold.  I remember there use to be puddles around the pool in the brick walkway that surrounded the pool and Jim and I would often go lay in those warm pools of water to warm up. And it felt so good !  Several years later having gone off to college at Florence State I took a Water Safety Instructor (WSI) Course that enabled me to be not only a Life Guard but I could instruct and certify others in life saving as well.  In the summer of 1968 I applied for a Life Guard position at Big Spring Park and I believe it was Dwight Tuck, a classmate of ours, that was the Pool Manager. He hired me and I worked for about a month.  I became so bored with sitting on those life guard stands day after hot summer day that when a job opportunity came up to go to Wisconsin and work at a Stokely Van Camp cannery I took it.  There was some Huntsville friends who went to college in Arkansa that were going up there to work and I figured, what the heck, I'll go.   Could be a great adventure. And it was but that is another story for another time.  Talk about cold water in Big Spring Park, Wisconsin in the summer can get pretty cold too!"

Barbara Diamond, LHS ‘66, "Your piece on Big Spring pool brought back memories very dear to me. I spend 5-6 summer on the swim team. Yes the water was ice cold especially for morning practice before the pool opened. My sister, Susan, and I often spent our entire day there because we had swim practice twice a day and I also tried diving for one summer. We regarded the cold water a competitive advantage, visiting teams came for meets and were shocked when they dove in to “warm up”. You wrote a few weeks ago about the Zesto. That was an important place to Susan and me because our parents promised us an upside down banana split when we beat our times. Best banana split ever😋😋😋 Thanks for the memories."

Your piece on Big Spring pool brought back memories very dear to me. I spent 5-6 summers on the Huntsville swim team (renamed RCAC - Rocket City Aquatic Club) . Yes the water was ice cold especially for morning practice before the pool opened. My sister, Susan, and I often spent our entire day there because we had swim practice twice a day, and I also had diving practice for one summer in the afternoon. We regarded the cold water a competitive advantage - visiting teams came for meets and were shocked when they dove in to “warm up”. You wrote a few weeks ago about the Zesto. That was an important place to Susan and me because our parents promised us an upside down banana split when we beat our times. Best banana split ever. Thanks for the memories.

Belinda Talley, HHS '69, "Great article on Big Spring Pool. I remember being so cold that we would lie on the bricks around the pool. Some areas did not drain well, and we would bask in those inch-deep puddles to keep warm. I worked at the Senior Center for the last two years the building was in existence. (Now The Art Museum) It seems that my office was located near the girls' locker room. "If walls could talk..." Thanks for bringing life back to our chilly pool memories."

Delores McBride Kilgore, LHS '66 , "Love it! Loved the Big Spring pool ! Those were the days!"

Mary Ann Bond Wallace, LHS '64, "Tommy, for some reason when I finished reading your post of the Traveler this week I was blocked from leaving a comment.  So if you want this info please feel free to post. I remember my times at Goldsmith Schiffman Field.  Loved to go there for the football games and then walk to Mullins to hang out.  My parents would drop me off and pick me up at Mullins.  I decided to look on Wikipedia for info on the field.  Here is what they had.  Hopefully this will complete all your info on the field.  I love that you are so dedicated to this newsletter.  I look forward to it each week.  You have brought back so many memories for me.  I regret that my life was so full I did not know about the newsletter until several years ago.  Thank you for your memory and your dedication to the Lee High School memories.

"On January 25, 1934, Oscar Goldsmith, Lawrence B. Goldsmith, Annie Schiffman Goldsmith, Robert L. Schiffman, and Elsie Strauss Schiffman gave the property to the city for an "athletic field or playground "for the enjoyment of the white students of the public schools."[2] The Civil Works Administration provided $6,500 in materials and labor to construct the field, the first in Huntsville to accommodate night athletic games. The field was dedicated during the first night game on October 4, 1934, when 1,000 fans saw Coach Milton Frank's Huntsville High team defeat Gadsden High.

The racist language in the deed was ruled unenforceable and ignored as desegregation came to Huntsville City Schools.

The city moved activities to Louis Crews Stadium at Alabama A&M University in 2012, and because of disuse, heirs reclaimed title to the land. On September 5, 2014, after consulting with heirs "as far away as Scotland," Margaret Ann Goldsmith deeded the property to the city again, this time without restriction.

In October 2024, the city hired a Georgia-based engineering and design firm to develop overhaul plans for the facility. The renovation will add pickleball courts, new flag football fields, a concession building with restrooms and a playground."

Janet Holland, LHS '67, "Thought you might enjoy this picture I came across."