Eastwood

My daddy, Clarence Otto Brice, developed Eastwood, a subdivision in Oneonta, Alabama, a small town of around 5,000 people.

Some of you might remember, and some may have forgotten.

In the 1950s, my daddy had a vision. He bought a large piece of empty land and drew out a plan. I still have the original map to this day.

My mother was not keen on the whole idea of a desolate expanse of land “way out in the country,” and she didn’t want to be away from her Bridge and Study Club friends.

Anne Brice said, “Clarence, what on earth do you see yourself doing out there?”

In an almost tearful voice, he replied, “I see homes everywhere and families. I see children riding bicycles and playing in yards. I see cars in driveways and men and women going to work.”

Then he asked, “Anne, what do you think we should name it?”

With an exasperated sigh, she replied, “Eastwood, I guess.”

Daddy continued developing land in Eastwood until he was 85, about a year before he died at age 86.

I am thankful for all the people who built and bought homes in Eastwood. Without you, I guess Eastwood would still be a big empty plot of land “way out in the country.”

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