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My husband, the (Apple) genius

Donna Barton | Special to The Star    |   Sep 13, 2020

Fred Kemp, left, and Tim Barton at Apple headquarters in Cupertino, Calif., in 2000.

 Two life-changing events happened to my family in 1986. Our daughter, Lindsay, was born, and the very next month, my husband, Tim, started a new job as the service manager for Kemp’s Officenter, the Apple Computer dealership for East Alabama. That was back when dealerships were the only place a person could acquire a Macintosh computer.

  Located on Noble Street, the business was owned by brothers Fred and Don Kemp and was a favored hangout spot, especially for those working downtown. It offered a laid-back atmosphere, reminiscent of Mayberry, with people dropping by to chat about all manner of things. Nobody was in a particular hurry, and nobody felt rushed to leave.

  During those years, Tim attended dozens of Apple schools across the nation. He became so good at what he did that teachers would sometimes enlist his help answering student questions. I know I sound like the proud wife, bragging on him like that. Guilty as charged.

  When we were out and about, people would stop us at the grocery store or restaurants to quiz Tim about Mac computers. I would stand there, waiting for the Q&A to end, but he never once introduced me. “I don’t remember their names,” he said, when I asked him why. “But I can tell you what model Mac they have.” (Ha! Just like a bartender.)

  It wasn’t unusual for Mac users to call our home at night or on weekends. Christmas Day was an especially busy time for telephone support, what with all those new Macs being unwrapped.

  Of all the times Tim came to someone’s computer rescue, my favorite was when a company on the other side of the state called him in full-blown panic mode. Crucial data had been deleted from their Mac. (This was back in the dark ages when deleted files were — well — deleted.)

  They frantically called Apple dealers all around the state: Birmingham, Montgomery, Mobile, Huntsville. No one could help. They spotted a listing for Anniston and decided to give it a try, but at that point, felt all hope was lost.

  Tim listened to their problem, then had a hunch on how to resolve it. He gave them specific instructions, walking them through a step-by-step recovery procedure — and then BAM! All of their deleted data reappeared.

    Their jubilation was overwhelming.

  That afternoon, a dozen red roses arrived for him. The next morning, a cheesecake was delivered, flown in overnight from New York City.

  The biggest gift of all was when this company, one of the largest employers in West Alabama (the kind that was all the time buying Apple computers for local schools) decided their future purchases would be from Kemp’s Officenter. That was quite a windfall for the small Anniston store.

  In the year 2000, Apple conducted a secret search for outstanding dealerships in the nation. Undercover associates visited every store to ask questions and grade customer service. Kemp’s Officenter not only passed with flying colors, but was chosen as the best Apple store in the entire southeastern United States.

  As a reward, two representatives would be flown to Cupertino, Calif., to have dinner at Apple headquarters and, best of all, receive VIP seats to Steve Jobs’ annual keynote address.

  When Tim heard that only two of them could go, he went straight to Fred and Don and didn’t mince words. “I’m going,” he insisted. “I don’t care which one of you goes with me, but I’m going.”

  They knew he meant business.

  Having a ringside seat to watch Steve Jobs unveil Apple’s newest gadgets was something Tim could have only dreamed about. It was especially poignant that he shared the experience with Fred, who passed away 12 years later. Fred was a gentle soul, with a kind heart, who always treated Tim like family.

  Apple dealerships are a thing of the past, replaced with ultra-modern Apple Stores featuring lots of glass and chrome and the so-called Genius Bar. Today, Tim works at The Supply Room in Oxford, an all-Macintosh company. He handles payroll, human resources and, of course, anything technical — and he’s still the one Mac users call when the geniuses are stumped.

© Tim Barton 2026