Photos by Al BlantonHe stands as motionless as a centuries-old redwood, peering through the window of a business at the passing traffic near Airport Road and 19th Street. Clad in a a pair of pressed khakis and a white-collared red shirt with a white "A" stitched on the chest, his hands are on his hips, a Fossil Reference chronograph around his left wrist. His face is ruggedly tanned, the lips parted slightly in what could be either a smile or a sneer. Beneath a pair of slightly raised eyebrows, the eyes are focused with laser-sharp intensity at the outside world, a look similar to the intimidating, no-nonsense Robert De Niro "I'm watching you" cold stare. It is a look comparable to a predatory hawk surveying his prey from a lofty crag.Once you turn into the parking lot, the realization hits you that the crimson sentinel with the icy stare inside the window is Coach Nick Saban. Almost had me, you think to yourself. Of course it's not actually Saban in the flesh, only a cardboard standup. Not quite as unnerving as the Real McCoy, but pretty close.To the left, an older model black and white police cruiser is parked next to a dogwood tree. On the driver's side door, underneath the red-painted Ron's Bonds, Inc. logo is a cartoon sketch of a man behind bars, wearing a striped jail uniform.Inside the tan and brick building, Ron Parnell sits behind his desk, dressed in a teal colored shirt, typing away at his laptop. Ron looks nothing like Max Cherry, the fictional bail bondsman character from the movie Jackie Brown. With graying hair and a sort of permanent squint around the eyes, he bears a closer resemblance to Clint Eastwood.On the walls around him are various framed vintage photos of Coach Bear Bryant and other Alabama football memorabilia, family members, and a few vanity license plates engraved with names like JLBUSTER, CAR54, and YELOHAM.Ron finishes up the keyboard and leans forward, hands clasped on his desk, talking about his life and his line of work. He grew up with three brothers and two sisters. Two brothers have since passed away. The oldest brother, John, was an acoustical engineer, as well as a skilled musician who played the trumpet and the banjo. "He went to school at Alabama, and lived in Germany the last ten or fifteen years before he died," Ron says. "When he was in school there at Alabama, he played a trumpet set with Louis Armstrong when he was doing a show there. He was quite talented."Ron's surviving brother Don is also his fraternal twin. The two were born six minutes apart in Oak Ridge, Tennessee in 1944. "We went to high school in Chattanooga and graduated in '62," Ron says. "Don went to Vanderbilt University and I went to Alabama." Don lives in Knoxville and even briefly ran for mayor several years ago but dropped out for health reasons. "He would have won convincingly I'm sure, but he found out he had cancer near the end of [the campaign] and he dropped out. I hated it for him but he came out well. He's still with us and a great guy," Ron says.After earning both a masters and a bachelors degree in Mathematics, Ron taught at a military junior college in Alabama for over a year. In 1970 he went to work for the telephone company in Nashville. In December of 1979, he moved to Birmingham. "I was involved in managing data centers for the phone company across the Southeast, particularly the ones that did the billing systems and the E-911 systems," Ron says. "We were always busy, subject to be called 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, kind of like this business is. I got used to that. I worked there for thirty years, and retired in 1999."But for Ron Parnell, retirement from the phone company didn't mean retirement from working. "I did some consulting with the state government on Y2K computer-related issues for a year," he says. "And then I got interested in this business through an ad in the paper. A fellow up in Huntsville had kind of a franchise of bail bond businesses and I'd always been interested in law, that sort of thing. I went up and talked with him, and in 2003 I ended up getting in this business."When your job revolves around helping to release people from jail, you naturally expect to see a good bit of the unpleasant side of life, but Ron enjoys it. "It's an interesting business," he says. "I like it because it keeps you involved in the community. You know what's going on. I'm pretty much on top of everything happening in the county, and I enjoy that. It has brought me an awareness of something I had never thought about before, and that's the impact of drugs on small towns and counties. I really had no idea that it was as bad as it is, and it's gotten worse, with the transition from marijuana to pills and methamphetamine and that sort of thing. I think that is ruining our society, and it's absolutely destroying families. Virtually every family in this county has been affected one way or another. It's not just a socio-economic thing. Any family can be hit with it."Ron believes one answer to the drug problem is preventative action. "I would like to see a solution to the drug problem in Walker County," he says. "I see parents who are distraught over this. They blame themselves because their son or daughter is involved with drugs. Often it goes back to one bad choice: a buddy or a girlfriend pulls them in that direction or kids see their parents popping pills, and before long it becomes a habit. A young person may spend time in jail or in a short 30 day rehab program, but on the 31st day they get high. A rehab program requires more than thirty days to be successful. It comes down to choices you make, choosing who to hang out with, parents not keeping tabs on their kids, and they get in the habit of staying out late. You've got to watch who their friends are. A word of advice to parents is to keep your kids involved in some type of group activity like sports, band, theater, or something like that. Loners are more likely to experiment with drugs than kids who are part of a group activity."In addition to the drug problem, overcrowding is another issue that has affected the jail system. "I do a lot of bonds in this county," Ron says. "It's an interesting business. Some people are critical of it. They think, well, people that get arrested ought to stay in jail. Obviously, economically and otherwise, that's impractical. Our jail holds 275 people, and usually it's pretty close to that, so there's not a lot of room over there. You've got to recirculate and so forth. And then you've got the state prison problems where they're overcrowded and dilapidated, particularly like Tutwiler."What is Ron's passion when he's not Ron The Bail Bondsman? "I enjoy sports," he says. "Of course you can't live here and be an Alabama graduate without being a huge football fan. I've been to a lot of ball games. When my boys were growing up, they spent a lot of time on the baseball fields and basketball courts. They gravitated toward basketball because they're kind of tall. They are 6'8" and 6'6". I don't know where that came from but it kind of dictated their choice."Ron's two sons not only are fraternal twins as well, both have chosen careers which also involve some aspect of law. Clayton is a Walker County deputy sheriff and Andrew is a defense attorney who lives in Orlando, Florida. On one shelf in Ron's office is a bobble-head doll in the image of Clayton, right down to the deputy uniform. "Andrew had given Clayton one of those as a Christmas gift his first year as a deputy, and I wanted one too," Ron says with a slight grin.Ron has a deep respect for law enforcement officers, and says they often are unjustly criticized. "Being a police officer these days with all the [negative] press and officer-involved shootings, the officer is always blamed," he says. "People don't realize, they've got a split-second to make that decision. Somebody makes a move, you can't wait. Is he getting a handkerchief out of his pocket or a gun? It's a tough business but they are well trained. They have done a super job at the sheriff's department under Jim Underwood. I just can't brag enough on him. He's turned that department around."The life of a bail bondsman is not always fun and games, and it's logical to assume one could easily become pessimistic and jaded in that line of work. While Ron doesn't ignore that there are problems in Walker County that need to be addressed, he still has much hope for the future of this area. "Things in Walker County are turning around somewhat," Ron says. "It went through a downward spiral after the coal business kind of went kaput, and it was sad to see how dilapidated downtown was, but a combination of people are making a huge difference here. Dr. David Rowland started with the old Burton Building downtown, and he took the initiative to get it done. It's good to see positive things happening out there, and I think electing district judges like Judge [Henry] Allred and Judge [Greg] Williams is a part of that. I think things are getting better, if we can just get jobs here for young people."As Ron turns back to his laptop, razor-sharp sunbeams slice through the window blinds, scattering oblong patterns of light on the floor. Near the front window the crimson sentinel Nick Saban stands guard, his steely gaze steadily focused on the world outside.He almost seems to be smiling now. 78For more stories like these, follow 78 Magazine online.