The day after Thanksgiving, 2008, I stood near a display of antique farm equipment at Noccalula Falls Park, looking out over a nativity scene lit up in the dark. Heather was beside me. I got down on one knee, and when I looked up I saw her face illuminated by the Christmas lights surrounding us. She said yes.
I've been back more times than I can count since then. With Heather, with our kids, on ordinary afternoons when we just needed somewhere to go. Every time, the falls are there. Ninety feet of water dropping straight off a ledge into Black Creek gorge, mist rising, the sound filling the ravine until it's the only thing you hear.
The Falls
The park's been here since 1950, when the City of Gadsden finally purchased the land after decades of trying. The property changed hands several times before that. Thomas McClung claimed the falls and 40 acres around them in 1845. A man named Faxon carved his name into the rock wall behind the waterfall in 1859, and it's still there. In the second half of the 1800s, someone operated a tavern and dance hall in a cave behind the falls, then tried to expand the flat space inside with dynamite. It collapsed. Some ideas are better on paper.
Someone operated a tavern in a cave behind the falls, then tried to expand it with dynamite. It collapsed.
The Legend
The name Noccalula is sometimes traced to the Cherokee term ama uqwalelvyi, roughly "place where water thunders." But the story that stuck is the one about a Cherokee princess who threw herself off the falls rather than marry a man her father chose over her true love. The legend dates to the late 1700s and may have roots in real events at the Cherokee village of Turkey Town, near present-day Centre, Alabama.
There's a nine-foot bronze statue of her at the edge of the falls. Three thousand pounds, caught mid-leap. The Woman's Club of Gadsden commissioned it in 1969 from a Belgian sculptor named Suzanne Silvercruys. It's dramatic, a little unsettling.
History or myth, it's become inseparable from the place. The falls are named for her. The statue watches over them. And every visitor who walks up to the overlook gets the story, whether they came for it or not.
The park has staged a theatrical walk down the gorge: actors moving along the trail with the audience, standing on boulder landings to perform each scene, nature itself as the scenery. Heather and I went on an anniversary trip around 2020, during the pandemic. It was unlike any theater experience I'd ever had. The story ended where it had to, with her leap off the cliff. By the end I felt actual grief. It brought the story of Noccalula to life for me.
By the end I felt actual grief.
The Gorge
The falls are the centerpiece, but the gorge is where you lose track of time. The trail is 1.7 miles of crushed stone, winding through the ravine past caves, an aboriginal fort site, an abandoned dam, a pioneer homestead, and Civil War-era carvings scratched into the rock walls by soldiers who passed through here more than 160 years ago.
It's a strange mix of ravine and history: Cherokee, Civil War, early settlers, Depression-era civic ambition, all compressed into one gorge. You can hike through it in an hour, but you'll want longer. There's always something carved into a wall or tucked into a cave opening that you didn't notice the first time.
I ran the Barbarian Challenge there once with friends from church. An obstacle race through the gorge: mud, water, and at one point swimming across the pool at the base of the falls. I've never been so exhausted in my life.
The Park
The park also has botanical gardens, a playground, picnic pavilions, campground, and a wedding chapel. Sounds like too much. The falls anchor everything. As long as 90 feet of water is dropping into a gorge, the rest is just extra.
My kids have spent days petting bunnies and feeding goats there and never wanted to leave.
Every November and December, the park runs a Festival of Lights: millions of lights strung through the grounds, a miniature train that winds through the displays, the waterfall lit after dark. They bring Santa in too, set up in an old workshop on the grounds. We have pictures of our kids in his lap that look like something out of a storybook. We've been going since they were small. The falls don't change. The lights just make everything feel new.
Sixteen years of visits.
Noccalula Falls Park is one of those places I send people to when they ask what there is to do around here. My oldest slipped into the creek on the steep trail once when he was a toddler. I snatched him out before he got far. Brought friends who didn't know what to expect. Had family reunions here. Everyone finds something. It's right here, on the edge of Gadsden, and it's been there since long before any of us showed up.
Noccalula Falls Park is at 1500 Noccalula Road, Gadsden, AL 35904. Hours, events, and campground reservations at noccalulafallspark.com.
