Etowah County

Coming up here in about 30 minutes, we'll talk to State Representative Mark Gidley from Hoax Bluff.

That's in Etowah County.

Kind of the, as far as social conservatism goes, kind of the tip of the spear of the Alabama House of Representatives.

But encouraged by him, he's one of the good guys, and looking forward to that discussion, kind of what... maybe is to come in the 2027 legislative session and kind of an outlook on what's going on in politics right now.

Democrats will win their seats, and Republicans ought to win their seats.

There's a few interesting ones.

North Alabama in Madison County, Etowah County in Cherokee County, Andrew Jones' seat may be.

And then you kind of look around the rest of the state, and there's just not.

Kyle, for the final game, we would ask you to preview.

I did not get the memo that Etowah and Southside Gadsden, or they'd apparently merged, but you get Clay Chalkville, 2-1, traveling to Southside Rainbow City to take on the 2-0, and I'm not even sure what their mascot is.

Southside is the Panthers.

A little bit of an oddity.

They wanted to change the kind of the affiliation marker to Rainbow City.

So now it is kind of weird adjusting the column in Southside Rainbow City.

Is Etowah – Etowah,

though, is no more, right? So that's why I can remember going and watching – I mean, hey, Freddie Kitchens played Etowah.

Now, deep within the dense woodlands and swampy hollows of Alabama lurks a creature of local legend known simply as the White Thang in local dialect.

For nearly a century, tales of this enigmatic beast have haunted the rural communities of North and Central Alabama, particularly in the triangle formed by Morgan, Etowah, and Jefferson counties.

Unlike its more famous brown-furred cousin, Bigfoot, the White Thang is distinguished by its brilliant, often stark white fur, making it a ghostly apparition against the dark backdrop of the southern forest.

Eyewitness descriptions, while varied, paint a consistent and unsettling picture.

And, uh, the other thing, she said it was white.

And, uh, her daughter started shaking her head again, said, "Mom, you know, told you this is crazy." And I said, "That's really interesting 'cause yesterday I heard a story from somebody else about a white Bigfoot." And I asked them where they were from, and they live in a little town that's in Etowah County.

And so at the end of the day I reached back out to the first patient and, you know, asked her if she'd mind telling me where they lived, and again, it was a, a place in Etowah County.

Huh.

So I get online and I start looking for a white Bigfoot in Alabama, and I found several articles about the white thang, T-H-A-N-G, of Alabama.

And then the thing is, not only is he going to do that, but he's going to perform extremely well among Republican voters.

So I think Andrew Jones has serious problems with Jesse Battles challenging him for Senate District 10 over in the Etowah County area.

Yeah.

And, you know, Senator Jones, I think one of his hurdles is just such so out of the norm.

For that district to go with the Cherokee County guy and not an Etowah County guy, because all the populations in Gadsden, it's not in his neck of the woods.

He doesn't really have the friends and neighbors advantage or whatever you want to call it that I think Battles could have.

Battles is a guy that people will know in that area.

Now, deep within the dense woodlands and swampy hollows of Alabama lurks a creature of local legend known simply as the White Thang in local dialect.

For nearly a century, tales of this enigmatic beast have haunted the rural communities of North and Central Alabama, particularly in the triangle formed by Morgan, Etowah, and Jefferson counties.

Unlike its more famous brown-furred cousin, Bigfoot, the Whitesang is distinguished by its brilliant, often stark white fur, making it a ghostly apparition against the dark backdrop of the southern forest.

Eyewitness descriptions, while varied, paint a consistent and unsettling picture.

By the time he crossed into Alabama, he had covered about 70 miles.

He was moving through Etowah County, a stretch of highway that would have looked, to a man who'd grown up in Mississippi, very familiar.

Pine trees, red dirt, a two-lane road with no shoulder to speak of.

At some point during those two days on the road, Moore passed a small roadside store in an area called Colburn, Alabama.

He talked about the walk, his letter, his plan.

When Moore refused Hicks' offer to drive him somewhere safe for the night, Hicks drove away and wished Moore well on his journey.

A man named Ellis Elrod was driving along Highway 11 as dusk settled over Etowah County when he spotted something at the side of the road.

He turned his car around and pulled closer.