Through good ol’ fashioned hard work and business savvy, Jasper’s own Betsy Underwood McAtee has risen to the top of the corporate world as CEO of Dreamland BBQ. Along the way, she’s had her share of challenges and triumphs. This is her story. 

Words and Images by Al Blanton 

Close your eyes and imagine a young girl walking with her grandmother to the shops of downtown Jasper in the 1970s. The streets are filled with long sedans, the townspeople are sporting their finest polyester, and businesses boast names across their facades in big letters and distinctive fonts. Chock-full of possibilities, a day’s event might include a trip to Woolworth’s, Elmore’s, or, best yet, Dairy Queen. 

Can you see her? 

Now imagine that same girl is growing older. By middle school, she’s gotten her first job at Marilyn Sanders Dance Studio. She thinks it’s pretty cool to have her own bank account and draw a paycheck—“I thought I had died and gone to heaven!”—and work makes her feel empowered, even if her bank account only reads $20.00. 

She remembers riding bikes on Highway 78, watching movies at the four-screen theater, going to Smith Lake, and trick-or-treating without her parents’ supervision. Indeed it was a different time. 

Later, she attends Walker High School, where she runs cross-country and track and plays on the golf team. In the summer, she lifeguards at Musgrove Country Club. 

Can you see her? 

Truly, the town of Jasper provided an idyllic life for young Betsy Underwood. In addition to the opportunity to learn and grow, she and her family were well-known throughout town—a dynamic that made her feel solid inside and provided a sense of stability for a zealous, spirit-glazed teen.  

Betsy’s parents taught her life lessons and guided her as she navigated childhood. But the trips to visit her grandmother provided the requisite heartsease she needed. “I’ll be honest with you, I think there were sometimes when I didn’t even take shoes,” she says.

She admits she wasn’t the best student in the class, a fact that would later provide motivation as she entered into her career and adulthood. “I was not an A student, I was  probably middle-of-the-road,” Betsy says. “There were certain subjects I was good at. I  had a little bit of an underdog mentality. I can’t get there because of my grades, so I’ve got to out-work you, I’ve got to out-hustle you. One of my favorite sayings is, “Hustle beats smarts when smarts doesn’t hustle.’” 

Making a Career 

After graduating from Walker, Betsy went 52 miles down the road to “The University,” as many in Jasper refer to The University of Alabama. Majoring in Geology and Economics, Betsy hoped to work in an oil field service, perhaps move out to Texas and work on an oil rig. But that life didn’t pan out for her. 

Instead, Betsy landed a job selling industrial chemicals for a company based in Pensacola, Florida. It was, as she says, a very “technical” selling position, and a challenge for someone who “never sold anything in my entire life.” 

About a year into the job, Betsy was in a paper mill watching a video tape of the company’s safety protocol when she was hit in the shoulder by log debris. “If it would have hit me in the head, I would have died,” she admits. And although she was not seriously injured, the event was jarring enough for her to realize she was in the wrong profession. 

Soon she applied to graduate school and was accepted at the University of West Florida. While pursuing her MBA, she worked at Parisian deparment store and learned the intricacies of a retail setting, especially that of women’s hosiery, The job was a lot more fun than the industrial chemical job and had its share of perks: Betsy got a good discount on clothes. 

Germinating within her at this time was a desire to work for a consumer products company, and, as fate had it, a rep from the Frito-Lay company arrived on campus to recruit new salespeople. After meeting the representative, Betsy was invited to a ride along in an 18-foot metro truck. Eventually she was hired as one of the company’s “Extra Men,” filling in for employees that were on vacation. 

“I would get in their chip truck and run their route,” she says. 

For the next few years, Betsy ran the roads for Frito-Lay from Pensacola to Pace, Florida, and up to Elberta, Alabama. The delivery points were a combination of grocery stores, bars, and offices—any place, really, that sold chips. Generally speaking, the job was fantastic, but there were times when Betsy didn’t fancy the bars, “because there was always someone at 3 o’clock in the afternoon that had been in the sauce a good bit”—and she didn’t mean barbeque. 

Six months into the job, Betsy was offered a district manager position with Frito-Lay. If a salesperson called in sick, Betsy’s job was to make sure the operation didn’t skip a beat. Which meant that she had to run the route and know it as well—or better—than the salesperson. 

In the mid-1990s, Betsy came back to Alabama when the company offered her a job on a sales training team. This position afforded her the ability to travel all over the country and assist corporate headquarters in Plano, Texas, when there was a route disconnect or execs had a ground-level question about logistics. Her experience in Florida served her well in this capacity.  

Around this time, negotiations were brewing between her father, a longtime dentist in Jasper, and the Bishop family, owners of Dreamland BBQ, to open a second restaurant location on Birmingham’s Southside. Dr. Underwood had been a fan of the restaurant for many years and after building a friendship with the Bishop family, he went into business with them. A Mobile location was added in 1995, and by the end of the decade, Atlanta was in the works. 

While Betsy was calling on big grocery accounts in Birmingham, her father approached her with an offer. His right hand man, John Welch, was moving to Georgia to open up the new restaurant in Roswell, and Underwood needed someone to fill that role. He’d always hoped and envisioned that Betsy would join him in the business, and in February of 2000, she did just that. “We were just talking one day and [Dad] said, “When are you going to come to Dreamland?’” Betsy remembers. “I got to thinking about it and, you know, my dad had done so much for me—sent me to college, bought my first car—and it was my time to give back and let him fully retire. I prayed a lot about it, cried a lot about it, and made the decision that it was time.” 

To be sure, Betsy wasn’t handed the keys to the kingdom immediately. Initially, she tended bar and labored in the kitchen before working her way up the corporate ladder over the next decade. She became Director of Marketing and Purchasing, then COO, and finally, CEO. 

Since Betsy took over the company in 2010, Dreamland has expanded its footprint by offering its delicious fare in six stadiums across the Southeast, including Bryant-Denny Stadium in Tuscaloosa and Jordan-Hare Stadium in Auburn. She has also ramped up Dreamland’s online ordering capability from coast to coast and expanded its catering program. 

One of the fun parts of the job is meeting the various personalities who have walked through the restaurant’s doors through the years, including a laundry list of celebs and entertainers like Jerry Seinfeld, Luciano Pavarotti, Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, Mark Sanchez, and Matthew Stafford. On one occasion, Sting, the former headman for the rock band The Police, was performing at Oak Mountain Ampitheatre and placed an order for Dreamland’s famous ribs. 

“We are blessed with a great fan base,” Betsy says. 

Fortunately, Betsy’s father was able to witness his daughter become the boss of the franchise before his passing in 2016. Betsy says the responsibility to carry on her father’s dream is “probably double” due to her father’s sacrifices and the sacrifices of the John “Big Daddy” Bishop, who had the courage to open up a barbeque business in 1958 when the world was a much different place than it is now.

Over the last 10 years, no challenge has been greater than the one the restaurant faced in 2020 with the onset of the coronavirus pandemic. The year 2020 opened up normally, but by mid-March, the business was shellshocked. Sales were down 80 to 90 percent. The overwhelming majority of the company’s 300-plus employees were furloughed. Catering was essentially kaput. Doors to five of the 10 Dreamland restaurants were shuttered temporarily. And the worst part: the uncertainty of not knowing when it would all end. 

Betsy remembers the emptiness of the Dreamland office. “It was me and H.R., and we were battling it out every day just to survive,” she says. “I was still learning and knowing that as bad as the situation may be, there is a sliver of light somewhere, and just keep going toward the light.” 

There were times when Betsy wanted to call her father and say, “what do I do?” but ultimately the buck stopped with her. She was the leader of the organization, every day she had put on her happy face and bring her A-game to work. After all, modifications had to be made, such as curbside to-go—which was launched within two days—and later the installation of plexiglass and table displays for social distancing at all dine-in locations. 

Some things went by the wayside, however. “There was no need to put on expensive makeup coming to an empty office,” Betsy laughs. 

Fortunately, all Dreamland locations were back open by the end of May, but the virus effect still lingered. Betsy saw her business shift from primarily dine-in to 60 percent or higher to-go orders. Because fall football was in flux, there was no certainty her stadium locations would even open. 

Almost a year later, the restaurant is still recovering. Betsy’s perseverance is still being put to the test, but the state of the company is better than it was nine months ago. “I think overall, when we look back on 2020, we are going to look at this year on the restaurant side as the year we made changes and we survived because we did X, Y, and Z,” Betsy said. 

Set Apart 

There is a lot of great barbeque in the South, but there are a few things that set Dreamland apart. The first is the pit. Dreamland fare is cooked over an open pit with hickory wood—and that wood is not cheap. “I have to have a pit cook that’s babying that product because if he burns it up, that’s a lof of money,” Betsy said. “Pit cooks are our MVPs and our in-house celebrities.” 

The second thing are the memories attached to visiting Dreamland. Most everyone remembers the time they visited Dreamland for the first time and sunk their teeth into the restaurant’s delectable ribs. “Food memories are some of our strongest memories, and a lot of times those stories begin with, ‘I went to an Alabama football game and my granddad took me to Dreamland, or my dad took me to Dreamland,’” Betsy says. “That’s big for me. That’s a part of someone’s memory that they have with their family. If we are just a small part of that, I think that’s really cool.” 

Betsy jokes when asked if she would ever consider opening a Dreamland in Jasper. When her father was alive, she used to say to people, “Do you know what my life would be like if there was a Dreamland in Jasper? My dad would call me every other hour with, ‘there’s trash in the parking lot, the dumpster’s full.’ You know, there would be something.” 

One thing she has learned over the years is to never say never, and wherever you get your opportunity in life, take it. 

Perhaps one day the dream will come full circle. Perhaps the girl who use to roam so freely down the city streets will bring the famous barbeque back to Jasper. 

Until then, the folks back home will be watching and cheering for her success. 

Betsy Underwood McAtee, CEO of Dreamland Barbeque—and Jasper’s own. 

Can you see her? 78