Words by Terrell Manasco | Image by Al Blanton The year was 1985. As Walker College Head Basketball Coach Glen Clem prepared his Rebels for the state tournament, he realized something was missing.Clem, a man who rarely heard the word “no” uttered in his towering presence, approached Bill Young with a request. “Bill was in the Blue Tie Club, and [Clem] asked him if he could get some people to sing the National Anthem,” recalls Joe Matthews. “So he got some folks out of the stands.”The men didn’t have sheet music, so any harmony produced was called ‘wood-shedding.’ They just made it up as they went.After the Rebels won, Clem was back, requesting an encore. “All coaches and athletes are superstitious,” Clem offered. “Y’all gotta do this again tomorrow night.”So the next night, the men performed again.Thus was the genesis of the Jasper Men’s Chorale.Initially the group’s main concern was boring the audience. “When we did the first show, we thought the worst thing we could do was go out there in blazers and khakis and just stand and sing for ninety minutes,” Hank Wiley says.They needn’t have worried. Pat Nelson, who has been with the group since its inception, says this is not your typical men’s chorale. “It’s a combination of a Broadway play, Saturday Night Live, and a Mitch Miller Sing Along,” he says. “It’s portions of comedy, and we usually do satire. We poke a lot of fun at people in the community.”The shows are usually performed in two parts, and often in costume. “Last year, we did Jasper’s Got Talent. I was in the first group of contestants and we were dressed as nuns,” Nelson says. “We sang ‘I Will Follow Him’ from the movie Sister Act. The crowd thought it was a joke, but it went from laughter to pure enjoyment.”For the Fantasy and Fanfare show, the men landed a spaceship. During the second half of the show, Wiley, dressed as a Marine drill instructor, marched the men on stage for a military tribute. “Everybody was in uniform, with the stripes and belts, shoes, everything,” Wiley says. “It looked like a military choir, with a big American flag as the backdrop.”“We found the only living veteran in Walker County from World War I, Mr. Tommy Pace.” Nelson recalls. “We sang ‘My Buddy’ and put pictures of him on two huge screens, and they escorted him out on the stage. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”For the Grand Ole Opry show, they insisted on accurate details. Several of the men attended an Opry show in Nashville, where they got a backstage pass and had carpenters and contractors build an exact replica of the backdrop."And it was an exact replica,” Nelson chuckles. “We can come up with just about anything with somebody’s talents in our group.”The Christmas shows are among their most memorable. It was announced that everyone would go outside for the lighting of the tree. A crew blocked off the street and used chalk dust for “ice.” They created what looked like an ice skating rink and brought in professional skaters from Birmingham.“They were on roller blades but it looked like ice skates,” Nelson says.“We gave people a cup of hot chocolate, and had recorded music played,” Wiley says.For the event, the guys wanted plenty of lighting. Not to be undone, they called Rockefeller Center in New York, found out how many lights were used to light the Christmas tree, and got five thousand more.But they overlooked one thing. “It dawned on us...we can’t just plug this into a couple of outlets,” Wiley laughs. “We had to have a power pole set with a power meter.”“The power company had four or five of those big trucks and crews up there,” Nelson says.As their popularity grew, the group performed more shows. “Back in the day, we would sing for charity events, funerals, whatever,” Matthews says. “We did that for about ten years and for a lot of people, it was their fraternity. It was their social life.”Then in 1996 the group called it quits. “We had enjoyed it immensely but we burned ourselves up on ideas, and we got tired of one another. They wouldn’t agree with me and admit I was right most of the time,” says Nelson, tongue planted in cheek.Twenty years later, the time was ripe for a reunion. “Over the years, people would constantly say we ought to get back together,” Matthews says. “One night at dinner, Pat really leaned on me to get back and have one show. I said I would do it, much to his and everyone else’s surprise.”Last December the group returned for a limited engagement—or so they thought. “The men enjoyed it so much, and the community, so we’re going to do the best we can to move forward,” Matthews says.Planning for the December show begins in February. “Usually we put together a group of six to eight guys to brainstorm on ideas,” Matthews says. “We’ll work through about 15 or 20 until we hone in on something, and then we start trying to match music with it.”One of the group’s trademarks is keeping the theme a secret until the actual performance. “Even the men really don’t have a feel for what the show is going to be about until dress rehearsal in October,” Matthews says.The last show recognized fifteen members who have passed away over the years, including Jerry Watkins, who died in October 2016. “We’ve had so many great men, like Coach Pat Upton. Charlie Myers and Richard Simmons built most of our props,” Matthews says. “Leon Willcutt played music professionally and he was awesome.”Anyone is welcome to join and auditions are not required. First tenors like Nelson are especially encouraged. “That’s probably the only redeeming feature I have,” he says.Nelson says the opportunity to share ideas is what he loves most about the group. “I’ve always considered myself to be a creative person, and it’s given me an outlet to do that, and to share with these guys and bounce ideas off and see them actually come to fruition.”Intermission is over. The Jasper Men’s Chorale has returned to the stage. They hope you’ll stick around for the second half.The best is yet to come. 78"Grand Ole Opry" performance photo courtesy of Tamara Matthews. A special thanks to the Jasper Fire Department for their help with the photo shoot for this article.