Krista Presnall is the quintessential all-American girl.

She was in the top 10% of her high school class. Her first job as a teenager was at Sandestin Beach Resort. She played in the University of Alabama Million Dollar Band. She’s a trailblazer following in her family’s footsteps working at the Alabama Power plant they helped build. She is an animal lover who rescues dogs. She loves hunting with her dad. She is a VIP in one of Alabama’s top volunteer groups.

The Plant Barry control operator has worked there 13 years with a mostly male staff, been married for nine years and owned a home for three years in Stapleton. Presnall is on the Alabama Power Service Organization State Board after a term as Barry Chapter president and being named earlier as its Volunteer of the Year.

Alabama Power employee Krista Presnall enjoys her work at Plant Barry. (Mike Kittrell)

Life is good but sometimes queasy for the 52-year-old native of Eight Mile, where her parents still live at the end of the road Presnall grew up on and walked up and down about “a million miles.” Getting a job in 2008 was a milestone.

“When I came to work for Alabama Power, that was one of the proudest moments in my and my parents’ life,” she said. “You know, to work for Alabama Power in this state is like you might as well become mayor, governor or something. People look up to you just because you work for Alabama Power. I love it for me. I didn’t care if I had to come in and shovel coal, sweep floors, paint rails – I didn’t care. I was working for Alabama Power and I was very proud of that moment – still am.”

Growing up, Presnall was aware of societal prejudices. She became a student of history, visiting the Stonewall Inn on vacation. The New York City restaurant is known for its ban on serving alcohol to gay patrons in the late 1960s, which prompted the Stonewall Riots, followed by the nation’s first gay pride parade in 1970.

Alabama Gov. Fob James in 1996 banned same-sex marriage, a move followed by the Legislature in 1998. In the U.S., “anti-sodomy” laws long existed nationwide before being struck down by the Supreme Court in 2003. In 2004, Massachusetts legalized the marriage of same-sex couples. In 2006, Alabama voters approved by 81% a constitutional amendment outlawing what Massachusetts had approved. Nearly a decade later, the Supreme Court legalized all same-sex marriages, which Alabama politicians fought for another four years before allowing in 2019 – which some still are battling.

Nancy Henken-Presnall and Krista Presnall at their wedding. (contributed)

The Census Bureau says there are about 1 million same-sex households nationally, of which about 60% are legally married. In Alabama, there are an estimated 10,000 same-sex unions, which is some 0.4% of marriages statewide. Nancy Henken-Presnall and her wife, Krista, are among those families in the minority.

Unable to legally wed in Mobile in 2011, the Presnalls had their holy union blessed by a female minister, witnessed by more than 100 friends and family members. The couple headed to Provincetown, Massachusetts, where the Mayflower landed in 1620. Nancy’s brother and his partner were witnesses for the Presnalls’ legal marriage ceremony. When Alabama allowed same-sex marriage certificates, Krista and Nancy hired a lawyer and made their union legal in their home state.

The continuing struggle for gay rights is felt in Alabama and across the nation. President Barack Obama in 2009 outlawed hate crimes based on gender and sexuality, then two years later repealed President Bill Clinton’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” rule for the military. Yet, the many legal and societal changes of the past century can’t change people’s ideas, habits or prejudices. Sometimes the questions are as simple as, should someone be called “gay” or “lesbian”?

“I prefer Krista,” she says. “You can call me what you want to call me but my name’s Krista. We never really held onto labels or anything like that. Lesbian, gay, butch, gender-nonconforming. There are all kinds of names out there now, some that I don’t even understand.”

Krista and Nancy Presnall at their home in Stapleton. (Mike Kittrell)

But Krista Presnall is certainly in the LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning and/or queer) community and conversation. She is on the new Barry Culture Committee and works with AIDS Alabama South, Door to Serenity and other groups to uplift people who share a common goal of enlightening the world around them. She proudly flies a rainbow flag from her front porch, which often waves over their five dogs.

Several years ago at an APSO convention, Presnall publicly asked Executive Vice President Jeff Peoples what could be done to advance the cause of LGBTQ employees. They talked afterward and, today, the Council on Culture and Inclusion that Peoples heads is helping to address prejudices and offers employee education courses to improve conditions.

Presnall said when she started working at Barry in 2008, bringing up gay issues was tough, but things are improving day by day. Now there is no secret about her life or lifestyle at her job site or within her company circles.

“I’m ‘out’ to everybody,” she says. “Everybody knows. I don’t have qualms about saying ‘My wife.’ Nobody even winces anymore, because they know it’s just me, and I’m Krista, and that’s what I want. I’m just another employee. Not a gay employee.”

Presnall says she may have been a bit too strong-willed when she arrived on the job at Alabama Power, butting up against some employees who had never had a similar co-worker. In a competitive world, she wanted to prove she was as good on the job as any employee, while not having to deal with snide remarks, glances or being ignored. She soon decided the best strategy was proving her mettle, which eventually won the day. The company now requires all employees to complete inclusive culture training to increase awareness and help identify unconscious biases.

Krista Presnall’s Achilles injury put her out of work for nearly a year. (contributed)

Along the way, she stepped in a hole on a dog rescue mission, rupturing her Achilles tendon, then the day before she was to return to work, she tore it again, only worse, requiring reconstructive surgery. Presnall was out of work for nearly a year, during which time she took online classes to complete her bachelor’s degree from UA. During rehab, she vowed to walk across the stage in Tuscaloosa to get her diploma, which she accomplished before returning to Barry.

“Not only did Alabama Power put up with me for 11 months, they paid for me to go back to school, so I graduated from the University of Alabama in 2013 while being laid up in bed,” she says.

Krista Presnall, second from right, said if she had been a boy, she would have played football for the Crimson Tide instead of being in the Million Dollar Band. (contributed)

Presnall still bleeds crimson. Had she been born a boy, “I’da played football for them instead of piccolo in the band.” Her aunt played a flute that, because of economic pressures, was handed down to Presnall, who would have preferred a musical instrument “not quite so effeminate,” perhaps drums or saxophone. Those are among the simple adaptations she’s made in a life of straight society demands.

Nancy Henken-Presnall was married to a man for 25 years. “That was how she had to conform in the world then,” Krista says of her spouse, who has a 31-year-old gay son, Stephen. She says Nancy’s ex-husband and both their families love and respect each other.

Krista remembers having rocks thrown at her after entering a bar in the 1980s. Children sometimes make comments in Walmart today. Adults give her odd looks when she walks into a women’s restroom. Men behind the counter at sporting goods stores sometimes ignore her.

Presnall says there have been days when she’s had to hide the real Krista from the world around her.

“Oh, absolutely!” she says. “There was a time when we didn’t hold hands, we didn’t act like we were together. Even when I was younger, you just didn’t do stuff out in public because you were afraid of what was going to happen to you. Still today, there are times and places we just don’t go because that’s just not where we’re supposed to be.”

But times change and Presnall has taken an advanced approach that would please President George H.W. Bush: kinder and gentler. She’s more interested in education than confrontation. She thinks other employees might follow the lead of the dogs she rescues, that aren’t concerned about who is doing the rescuing.

Krista Presnall has pride in her role at Alabama Power’s Plant Barry. (Mike Kittrell)

“I just mostly want people to see that we’re just people. We just want to come to work and go home just like everybody else,” she says. “I do my best at work just being Krista, not ‘Gay Krista’. There are gay women coming up that I want to be managers and not have to fight the fight I’ve had.

“A lot of us older LGBTQ just want to be the calm in the chaos,” she says. “We just want to make it a better place to work, play and live, and I think Alabama Power is a perfect, wonderful company platform to use in the state of Alabama.”

This story originally appeared in Powergrams.