For 15 years I “commuted” from the Northern Neck to Alabama, making 125 round trips, two by train, three by plane and 122 by automobile, but who was counting?
In my free time in Alabama, I enjoyed driving around to see different parts of the state. In the process, I got to know the region well, and to make many enduring friendships
One of the places I visited frequently was the city of Anniston, sloped on the side of Blue Mountain. The 19th-century journalist, Henry Grady, called Anniston “The Model City” because of its ambience with broad avenues and attention to urban planning in its layout. Long after my return to the Old Dominion, I met Betsy and Al Douglas, who had moved to the Northern Neck from their previous home in Cape Cod.
In a casual conversation, Al mentioned that he had been born in Anniston, his mother’s hometown, thereafter Anniston proving to be a bond between us. Al went on from Anniston to live in many parts of the U.S., in the process of which he grew up speaking without the traditional Alabama accent that I encountered in my teaching career there.
His given name was Alan, but I liked to call him Alonzo, reminding him that it made him sound more Southern. He liked to say that he had been called many names, but I was the only one who used Alonzo.
Al served in the U.S. Navy for six years, after which he worked in the appliance repair business for his career. After his arrival in the Northern Neck, for a few years he operated his own repair business, until re-retiring to be able to spend more time in his home and on his boats. Being on the water was a consuming interest for Al. He was an expert sailor, and one talented at fixing any problem that might arise, be it mechanical or nautical.
Al was the consummate neighbor, always first in line to be of assistance to those in his community. He liked to have everything in its proper order. For many years, long after its owners had died, before he and Betsy had moved to the area, he would take his blower to an abandoned house in his neighborhood and blow the long driveway clean of leaves and debris. Al wanted those coming to his neighborhood and his fellow residents themselves not to have to look at the unsightly property.
He was also an adept carpenter who fashioned the interior of his utility trailer into comfortable living quarters. Al was an outdoorsman, who enjoyed fishing and hunting. He was an experienced firearms instructor, and he liked to say that he “was keeping his powder dry” in the event he might need it.
He also was very much a “dog person.” He had special ties with his dogs, convinced that they were family members, indeed close relatives. The dogs responded by matching his personality as welcoming co-hosts to visitors to their home.
Last week, while walking his dog, Ellie, Al fell on the ice, shattering his femur. He underwent surgery, but sadly he died shortly following the operation. His untimely passing leaves a void in the community that was his home. He was an old-fashioned American, proud of the country he loved and served with distinction, and always willing and eager to do his part in any given situation. He was an articulate spokesman for the values he held dear, and a worthy example of how to lead a good life. In producing Al, Anniston did well.
Alan Lucas Douglas Jr., September 23, 1945–January 31, 2026. R.I.P.
