I come from a long line of carpenters and fixers. My dad, uncles and granddads knew how to repair and rebuild just about anything. Due to economic necessity, they did what they had to do, to keep the farm and household running.
That line ended with me. I need printed instructions to change a light bulb. In our family’s store, I was the kid working the cash register while my dad was reassembling someone’s engine. So if you ever need correct change, I’m your man.
But if you need perfect cabinets, shelves or bookcases, my uncle Owen Norris is the master. Each year at Christmas, Owen builds something special for every niece, nephew, and cousin. He brings boxes filled with handmade, carefully crafted gifts: never the same gift twice. Bird houses and feeders, candle holders, and newly invented kitchen tools.
Owen Norris with his White House replica
One year, just for fun, he built a replica of the White House in perfect scale down to the tiniest detail. This year he built a banjo, from material he found around the house.
Owen Norris and his homemade banjo
Owen is a youthful 85, and when he sets out to do something, he finishes it. He is the first to credit his wife Kathie, who provides great assistance in his projects large and small.
Owen is special to me for many reasons. Born in 1930 as the youngest of eight, he’s among a special breed of Americans who grew up during the Great Depression. Most of us who came along later have experienced a few hardships and inconveniences, but Owen’s family, like so many others, truly learned the value of a dollar.
Necessity was the mother of invention. Before Owen was a teen, he was helping his father patch up the family home in Bryant to keep snow from falling through the cracks in the crowded bedrooms. Owen’s father (my grandfather Grover Norris) could build anything. Well into his 80s, he was repairing clocks. Owen still calls him the smartest man he ever met. Grover sure would be proud of Owen today.
By the 1950s, Owen left Sand Mountain to join the Army, where he served in Korea. When he returned home, he worked at Dupont in Chattanooga, as did many of his brothers and others from Bryant. For about fifteen years, he set aside a portion of his earnings, with a goal of owning a business. His dream came true in 1969 when he and a partner purchased an old lumber store in Flat Rock, renaming it Sand Mountain Supply. As word spread of the store’s hardware and Owen’s custom-built cabinets, it became a huge success, and Owen stayed busy with it until he retired.
All the while, he was active in his church and community, as a charter member and officer of the Bryant Ruritan Club, which is still going strong more than fifty years later. He was an early stockholder of the Bank of Dade in Trenton, serving on the bank’s board of directors for many years.
When I visited his home in Ider, I was impressed by all of the Owen-built items, but I was most dazzled by his Alabama room: a great collection of Crimson Tide memorabilia. I think Nick Saban himself would be overwhelmed by Owen’s Alabama shrine.
Our annual Norris holiday reunions, as captured on more than fifty years’ worth of photos and home movies haven’t changed that much over the years. Always on Sundays, with lots of food and games to keep everyone busy. I have video of Owen outshooting us all in a basketball game from decades ago. After having various hip and knee replacements, Owen can’t outrun us anymore, but he still outworks us. With all those new parts, we call him the Six Million Dollar Man. Come to think of it, about half of him is younger than I am!
We used to line up the 8 Norris siblings for a group photo each year. Now we have only Owen, who we appreciate even more with the passage of time.
He tells me he’s writing a book about his early life growing up amid the dirt roads and horse trails of Sand Mountain. He has some great stories to tell, and I’ll be the first in line to buy his book.
Uncle Owen, thanks for being a good son, brother, husband, father, uncle, granddad and friend. You helped build and protect this country, and people like you have held it together. As long as you’re around, I know there’s someone who can patch it up when the cracks begin to show.
What a lovely tribute. I want an Uncle Owen, too. What an incredible man.
Great tribute to a great man and family friend of all us Carroll’s. I too am the youngest of 8 and I have known Owen Norris all my life. I’ve never heard a bad report on Owen. Thank you David for this inspiring story. It’s very deserving.
I just read this story again. Good knowing more about Mr. Norris. I knew him via his “Sand Mountain Supply” days. I always thought well of him, now, even more. This generation will be missed when gone. In fact, I already miss them. Thanks for the article.
Uncle Owen was my uncle too. Some of the best memories from my childhood were spent at Uncle Owen & Aunt Betty’s house on Sand Mountain. I would spend a week with them in the summer. I learned how to harvest vegetables from their garden and would get lost in the cornfields. I can still remember finding the old tree house and wishing I could stay there forever. I had no idea he had passed until I found your tribute. Thank you for sharing. He was a wonderful man.