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Catfish Industry Pioneers
Recognized in New Book
by Alvin Benn
Recognition
doesn’t always come to those who deserve it, but it’s finally
happening to two Alabamians who practically invented America’s
commercial catfish industry.
Thanks
to an Auburn author whose dogged research led to a book on the origin of
catfish production in Alabama, C. O. Stephens and Richard True are
enjoying their place in the sun almost half a century after they started.
"This
important part of Alabama history could have died without her," said
Stephens, as he cut into a catfish fillet during lunch at the
Magnolia Restaurant in the Hale County community.
Stephens,
known to everybody as "Check," sat a few feet from Karni Perez,
a transplanted Californian whose knowledge of catfish wouldn’t have
filled a shrimp fork when she arrived with her family 18 years ago.
Perez
is experiencing a bit of fame herself these days as she attends events to
promote "Fishing
for Gold: The Story of Alabama’s Catfish Industry."
The
263-page book, published by the University of Alabama Press, details
pioneering efforts by Stephens and True to turn an experiment into a
successful venture. |

Karni Perez holds a copy
of "Fishing For Gold: The Story Of Alabama’s Catfish
Industry." |
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Perez
joined Stephens and True a few weeks ago at the Hale County Library
where friends packed the auditorium to hear them discuss their
contributions to what has become a multi-million dollar annual industry. |
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Author Karni Perez is
flanked by Richard True, left, and Check Stephens in Greensboro where
they autographed copies of her book: "Fishing for Gold: The
Story of Alabama’s Catfish Industry." Perez is holding a
stuffed toy catfish.
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"Without
catfish, this would be a pretty desolate place econom-ically," said
True in brief remarks to those who listened attentively. His comments
reflected a large dose of reality because Hale County is in the heart of
Alabama’s Black Belt region that is the most economically depressed
part of the state.
Because
of the catfish industry and the thousands of jobs it has created since
the early 1960s, many people don’t have to rely on welfare to survive.
Stephens,
84, best known statewide for his Christmas tree farm in Autauga County,
and True, 77, a former cattleman who "babysat" the first batch
of catfish, admit they are thoroughly enjoying their
extended "15 minutes of fame."
What
they did in 1960 for catfish mirrored the success of Orville and Wilbur
Wright in 1903 when the Ohio brothers proved heavier than air vehicles
could fly with the proper propulsion.
Stephens
and True may not have come up with a Wright-like, earth-shaking |
| discovery,
but they did prove that catfish didn’t have to be hooked in rivers to
be enjoyed. They proved that catfish could be cultivated in ponds,
processed and then sold to hungry customers around the world. |
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Comparing
a fish with aircraft may seem a bit of a stretch, but, for those who
rely on catfish for their livelihoods on a daily basis, it’s every bit
as important. Those who make their living from catfish have Stephens and
True to thank because the partners refused to give up when bankers would
not grant them loans and friends snickered when they learned what they
were trying to do.
Skilled
in oral research, Perez spent months interviewing the catfish pioneers
who would share their expertise with farmers in neighboring Mississippi
that leads the nation in catfish production.
When
Perez began her research in 1997, she thought she would be able to
finish the project in a year or so. She quickly realized that would not
be the case. She knew she had undertaken a major assignment.
"I
had already interviewed pulp and paper workers around Alabama as well as
Holocaust survivors, so I was familiar with oral research," she
said. "What I didn’t anticipate was the amount of time I’d be
spending on the book." |

Author Karni Perez,
right, and Randell Goodman, superintendent of Auburn University’s
Fisheries Research Unit, hold a catfish taken from a catch pen at the
facility. |
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Her
trips would take her from her home in Auburn into the Black Belt
counties of Hale, Greene and Perry counties where she got to know
farmers who were willing to try something new. They had spent their
lives raising cotton, cattle and trees. They considered catfish
something to catch in rivers by individual fishermen. It hadn’t really
occurred to them that they could raise catfish commercially in ponds. |

Left to right, Joe Glover
Sr. (head missing from picture), Richard True, unknown laborer, and C.
O. "Check" Stephens (in the back) as they pulled fish in with
a seine during the very first STRAL harvest at Joe Glover’s one-acre
pond on November 14, 1961. |
By
the time Perez began interviewing Stephens, True and others in the
fledgling catfish industry, she had a good idea that she was into
something pretty special. "I spent hours with a tape recorder in
front of them and then had their thoughts transcribed for me," she
recalled. "There wasn’t much research for me to do other than
interviewing people because nothing had really been written about the
catfish industry before."
She
also knew that in order for a book to attract attention, it had to be
interesting and not just a boring chronology of events. That’s why she
added some pizzazz to her project. On her way back home after her
interviews with Stephens and True, Perez listened to the taped questions
and answers and began to think about how she would write her book.
This
is how one of her chapters begins:
"The
raindrops and wipers beat their steady rhythms on the car windows as
Chester O. "Check" Stephens drove into the Gulf station in
Greensboro, Alabama that fall morning in 1960." |
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Her
goal was to produce a "non-academic" book that the general
public might enjoy. She also knew that Stephens would be the key to her
efforts. "Check was the real storyteller," she remembered.
"I used what he and the others provided me and enhanced it a bit. I
wanted to create that scene of rain splashing on Check’s windshield to
capture the reader’s attention." |
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Perez,
who began her research at the request of Conner Bailey, an Auburn
University professor in the Department of Agricultural Economics and
Rural Sociology, grew up in California where catfish were as foreign as
Alabama accents.
"A
constant theme in my life has been an abiding interest in natural
resources, in particular how people and societies in general relate to
their natural surroundings and how they are affected by them," she
said.
She
and her husband, who works at Auburn University, and two sons moved from
California in 1988. She worked as a legal secretary and teacher and had
no experience in aquaculture. That’s why she relied on those who had
the experience and were happy to help her with her research.
One
was Randell Goodman, superintendent of the AU Research Station/Fisheries
department. He has been working with catfish for years and is familiar
with development of what has become quite a cash crop for west Alabama
farmers.
Stephens’
decision to invest heavily in catfish in the early 1960s remains fresh
in |

Left to right, Joe Glover
Sr., an unknown laborer, Richard True, another unknown laborer, and
Check Stephens standing by a boat full of catfish they had collected by
hand during the first STRAL harvest in November, 1966. The debris on the
bottom of the pond (stumps, trunks, and branches) made seining extremely
difficult. |
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Goodman’s
mind and he hasn’t forgotten those days."Check was a major
player," said Goodman. "He had the foresight that was needed
at the start and he had the guts to try and make it happen. A lot of
people have foresight and guts, but they never act on them."
Goodman
said water quality and accessibility are the main reasons catfish
farming developed and thrived in the Black Belt.
After
years of prosperity, Alabama’s catfish farmers are faced with problems
similar to the ailing textile industry—foreign competition where labor
is cheap and the bottom line often is supported by government handouts,
including many in Asia.
"Our
catfish growers are getting out of the industry due to foreign
competition and subsidies," Goodman said. "Their profit margin
is very small, so they have to be extraordinarily good managers. They’ve
got to keep their production levels high."
Alabama’s
catfish industry has made enormous strides in the past 46 years—moving
from a tiny operation in a few ponds to a multi-million dollar pot of
gold for processors. Perhaps the best thing to come out of the industry
has been the economic boost for the Black Belt that has been described
as something akin to Third World countries.
Many
jobs are being provided for residents of the region, most at processing
plants built to handle the harvested catfish crop. Only Mississippi has
a bigger catfish clout and as America’s appetite increases for what
use to be considered a bottom-feeding southern delicacy, the future
looks even brighter.
Alabama
has about 230 commercial catfish farmers who utilize more than 25,000
acres of water to grow their crop. Most of the farms are located in the
Black Belt counties of Greene, Hale, Dallas, Perry, Sumter and Marengo.
According
to the National Agricultural Statistics Service, more than 142 million
pounds of catfish were produced in Alabama last year (2005) with the
overall economic impact of the industry in the state estimated at more
than $450 million. |
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More
than 3,000 Alabamians credit catfish with providing their main source of
income and catfish farmers received an estimated $100 million for their
product in 2005.
Although
the history of catfish farming in Alabama dates back to the early 1960s,
the real emphasis on the watery crop didn’t arrive until the
mid-1970s. Since that time, it’s been full speed ahead as more farmers
ditch what they had been doing to build catfish ponds or expand their
existing operations. According to the Alabama Catfish Producers, a
division of the Alabama Farmers Federation, catfish production has
increased an amazing 160 percent in the past two decades.
Stephens
and True sold their catfish interests years ago, but have kept an eye on
how the industry has been doing since those first painful steps in 1960
when they decided to go into business together. "We just happened
to be in the right place at the right time," said Stephens.
That
might have been the case, but their decision to risk all that they had
to try something new has been reaping rewards for thousands of
Alabamians since that time. Perez’ book is a way for them to get the
recognition they so richly deserve.
To
order the book, phone 773-702-7000.
Alvin
Benn is a freelance writer from Selma. |
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