Public Square: Your Richmond Stories

Editor’s note: On March 29, The Times-Dispatch held its 34th Public Square at our downtown building. The topic was “Your Richmond Stories.” Publisher Tom Silvestri moderated. It was an evening of looking back and looking forward. Today’s Commentary includes highlights of some very compelling Richmond stories. For more stories, go to TimesDispatch.com.

Shira Lanyi, Richmond: As a child growing up in Richmond, Virginia, I only ever wanted to be two things: a doctor and a ballerina. A doctor more likely in a family where education comes first seemed fascinating and practical, whereas to become a ballerina would be a dream. How many children walk around wishing they were ballerinas, who actually grew up to perform in a professional ballet company? Well lucky for me, I was born in Richmond, Virginia, where The Richmond Ballet supports a strong school for classical ballet and technique.

I started when I was 7 years old and quickly realized that ballet was much more than flitting about in a pretty pink tutu. No, this was a career for the strongest, most dedicated and talented dancers that were out there. … My senior year of high school, I was accepted into Stanford University, the University of Virginia, and the guaranteed admission program at Virginia Commonwealth University. Here it was, the crosswords: doctor or ballerina? I chose to become a ballerina and to uplift and awaken the human spirit here in Richmond and in the surrounding counties.


Ed Ayers, president of the University of Richmond: You all don’t have the same affliction I do, which is that I see ghosts everywhere. As a historian, I can’t help it. I look around, and I see all the things that were here for all these decades and centuries before. What I like is the idea that history is not just something that’s sitting there, but we’re going back and making it new by looking at it with new eyes now. … So what I like is I’m going out every day, it seems like, and talking to people. And I have yet to run into the people who are saying: “No, I don’t want to hear that. No, I don’t want — that’s just political correctness. No, I don’t want to think about somebody’s history who looks a little different from me. No, I don’t want to think about the broader story of Richmond.” Everywhere I go, I’m finding there’s a story in 2011, which is that we’re ready, we’re ready to tell our full story. So that’s the story that I’ve lived the last two years, of what a remarkable place we live in.


Reneé Hill, Richmond: I teach philosophy at Virginia State University. I have a story and a half, but they’re very quick. The first is a story, kind of, of Christmas past. My husband and a friend of his were born and bred in Richmond, but I’m from out of town. And so I thought it would be really cool to go to a Civil War reenactment. So I dragged them to this reenactment a few years ago, and it was a sweltering July day. And we’re walking along and looking at the encampment, the people with the little tents. I don’t know if you guys have ever been to this.

But there are people with little tents, and they’re dithering around, doing tent stuff. But it was like burning hot. So we go to the refreshment tent. And I had never been to this. I really had no idea what was happening. But this kid in front of me, who’s like about 10, was talking knowledgeably about this reenactment. So I tapped him on the shoulder and I said, “So what’s going to happen?” And he turns to me and he says, “Well, there are the good guys, and there are the bad guys. And the bad guys are going to win this one, but there aren’t enough soldiers who want to be the bad guys, because everybody wants to be on the good guy side.” And I look around, and we are the only black people for miles. I mean it’s like, oh my God, if the South rises again, we are so screwed. So I mean it was — I will never go back again. That was the creepiest experience I have ever had. So that’s my story of Christmas past.

However, I also went one time, I went several times, to do tai chi in Maymont Park. And you’re on this rise. And there’s a breeze. And it’s in the morning. And it’s beautiful. And you’re on the grounds of this mansion that was built during the Reconstruction period. But you’re doing these peaceful movements on these beautiful grounds. And I don’t exactly know what went on. I don’t know if there were slaves there. I don’t know. But it just seems to me that, even though we have this history, which is a bit mixed, some of which is very scary from the black perspective, I know, heritage, not hate. But still, some of us are a little scary. But still, there are so many beautiful parts of this city. And if we can look forward, doing tai chi together on the grounds of history, there is just great possibility in this city.


Danny Yates, Richmond: I was born 19 years ago, a few blocks away at MCV. I’ve lived in what we say on the radio, the Cap City, all of my life. I’m a graduate of Maggie Walker Governor’s School and a proud product of Richmond Public Schools. … For me, Richmond is more than just a hometown, it’s really my identity and a way of life. Since our city’s founding we have been a vibrant, historic, compassionate, turbulent and even fun place to live. Richmond epitomizes the definition of diversity in every way possible. …

What has to be my fondest memory of Richmond: returning home after surviving the tragic earthquake in Haiti last year, and being greeted at the airport. But not just that, it wasn’t just a day or two after that, I was amazed in the months and the year and a half to come how much sympathy and generosity is out there in the hearts of the people of this community. Everywhere I went, folks were opening up their wallets. They were asking how to help. And this is not just the day or two after, but weeks and months, when I, with some other Richmonders, launched a project to help some Haitian displaced college students, supporters were not hard to find.


Lori Hunter, Richmond: One of my memories of Richmond is going to my grandmother’s house. Her house was at Seventh and Jackson. And of course during the highway situation that happened in Jackson Ward, her house was leveled. So one of our memories is, when we were little kids, driving through and saying, “We’re driving through Grandma’s front door.” …

I was at the very beginning of integration…. But, I always lived at the crossroads of the black and white communities. So I went to St. Paul’s Catholic Church. So I always saw Richmond as a very diverse place, because I could just go across the alley and play with little white girls. Although we didn’t go to elementary school together, we played together during the day. And I could walk up the street into an all-white neighborhood up Hawthorne Avenue or over into Ginter Park. So those are kind of my memories of Richmond. I am just so happy because today I met one of my neighbors where I live on Hawthorne Avenue. And she’s Hispanic. And I’ve always been a very diverse person. … On our block, we have white, black, we even have someone that’s Asian on our block now. And that didn’t happen when I was growing up.


Bob Shiro, Midlothian: I came here in 1960, and my third boy, who now runs a business, was born. And I only had $300. And I asked everybody here if they could help me out. And I rented a place at 215 West Broad Street, House of Carpet. I opened it up there. And I worked seven days a week to make it happen. And it took me five years. ... And let me tell you something. I’ve learned one thing in life, and I tell everybody: Don’t ever give up.


Brooks Smith, Richmond: I came here tonight to tell a story because I love our fair little city. And for me, she’s a muse and also wellspring. But as I was sorting through the stacks of stories that I’ve heard, and learned, and tried to retell in different ways, I came across some of my favorites about our favorite, fabled Seven Hills or the naming of Chimborazo or the first school for freed black children after the Civil War, or the French refugees who fled revolution to come to rest, at last, at the steps of St. John’s Church.

As I was searching for the perfect tale to tell tonight, I was overcome yet again by the sense that so many of our stories overlap. That our history layers on top of itself, with a story about 29th and Q up in North Church Hill might just as well be about the first streetcar route, as a fine old jazz joint, as the theater named in honor of Richmond’s own Bill “Bojangles” Robinson. Because all are true. So I ended up not with a story but a poem, a poem that I hope hints at what makes our city so special.

Richmond is a song with lyrics lost and found and lost again. She is a quality of noise, a tremble of falling water, a pulse of crumbling brick. She’s an exaltation, not quite what she seems, but more, always more, like a muse in the ashes of what was or could have been. And though we have studied her, poking and prodding at the marks of her past, though we have recorded what seems like every grain of her fame and infamy, still there lingers the sweet, uneven pulse of the unknown.


Richmond Sheriff C.T. Woody Jr.: I began my career in law enforcement 42 years ago with the Richmond Police Department. Richmond was very different, was a very different city then than it is now. Of course it looked different, but I’m not just speaking about the buildings and the roads, but from a law enforcement perspective. I’m speaking about our communities, the people of our great city, and the prevailing attitudes, and how they have changed through the years.

Thursday, April the 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King was killed. He was assassinated in Memphis, Tenn. I was a rookie police officer with only four months on the street. Richmond was a city that was deeply racially divided. Richmond was breaking out in riots. The community was in an uproar. There were claims of police brutality, and the state police had to be called in for assistance. It’s one day I’ll never forget. During that time period, people in Richmond, especially the inner-city neighborhoods, didn’t trust the police, and the police didn’t trust the people in the community.

But I quickly learned that in order to solve any crimes, I would have to gain the trust of the people in the community, and I would have to place my trust in them as well. Throughout my 35 years with the Richmond police department, I was among the first to develop a relationship with people in every neighborhood in the city. Now they call what we did back then community policing. The people living in those neighborhoods formed a partnership with me and others to help solve the crimes which occurred in their areas. And together, we cracked some of the toughest cases of my career. …

Richmond citizens today are no longer afraid to speak to the police. And the crime is definitely a lot lower from when I was in homicide. They had 160 one year while I was working there. In 2006, I became sheriff. And now I know more than ever that we’ll never be able to arrest away all of our problems. That’s why the community has come together and so much emphasis on educational programs, not only at the Richmond City Jail but in our Richmond schools, which have improved 100 percent. We speak so much about the importance of people now, not only just being in jail, but we are preparing them to be better citizens instead of better criminals when they come out of jail, because one day they’re going to be living next door to you and I.


Ry Marchant, Richmond: When I think of Richmond, the main memories I have, and it’s because of my life history here, is right where we are. All these buildings in all this area, from the John Marshall Hotel, to Thalhimers department store, to Miller & Rhoads department store, all this main area is what I remember. And it’s that way for me because my father was at Miller & Rhoads for many, many years, started out as a guy that stood in front of the Tea Room elevator with a little clicker. And when the elevator doors opened, he had to do the little clicker and help the ladies on and off the Tea Room elevator. And he retired about 45 years later as president. And he had two years of college, and that was it. So he was a real self-made man.

But because of that, I always grew up down here at the store. I remember working in the men’s furnishings department in 1970. I remember walking across Broad Street to Angelo’s Hot Dogs and getting a chili hot dog for lunch over at Marshall Street. I remember going up to the old Woolworth’s right there on Broad with a buddy of mine at Miller & Rhoads that I’d gotten to know for the summer. … What seems so positive to me in the recent years is that from my viewpoint as a white citizen of the city, and who grew up in a more privileged and affluent side of the experience from Richmond, I get the sense now, and my experience is, that I feel the black community in Richmond and the white community in Richmond sort of have grown up in a way now, and grown up together in a way, and almost are coming to the fore together to sort of bring Richmond forward. And I think, as some people have said, I think that seems like a new feel and a new spirit.


Gary Ladin, Richmond: I have a lot of great memories of Richmond. Growing up in the West End, going to college around the Richmond schools and the Henrico School System. Walking with my dad into Ward’s TV, which he was the manager of, which soon became Circuit City, or The Loading Dock, and then Circuit City afterwards. And then we all know the demise after that.

My aunt and uncle, who raised me, they had furniture stores down in Shockoe Bottom now. Actually, the store’s not there any longer. Gaston took it out. So they had to move several times. So memories of living through Agnes and Camille and seeing how the city actually came together in those catastrophes, and how we’ve continually come together as a community during other catastrophes. Even in my line of work, I was the incident commander during Gaston, so it was sort of like reliving a memory when I was down in Shockoe Bottom going, “Gosh, I remember this when I was like 6 or 7 years old. And this is another phenomenal event.” But to see the merchants in the community come together and help each other, and that was just phenomenal. That’s Richmond, is that we do come together as a community.

John Martin, president and CEO, Southeastern Institute of Research, Richmond: Tom asked me to talk just for a few minutes on some of the major trends that are redefining our area. … The first one is increasing population. … Richmond, the whole metropolitan statistical area, is going to grow from 1.2 million to about 1.6 million. So 337,000 people, a 27 percent growth, is going to happen here. So people are coming. Shift two: expanding the community footprint. So where is everybody going to live? Well, if you look at where the past growth has happened … you can start to fill in what are called urban villages, or edge cities. You know, Short Pump, downtown Short Pump, or Rocketts Landing, or looking out in Midlothian. It’s amazing that these are the new future little cities that we’re going to have all over our metropolitan area. … Fort Lee is going to have a huge impact on this area and going to be a city in itself.

Number three: increasingly diverse population. We’ve heard a lot of people talk about that tonight. And the demographic facts are that we are going to become much more diverse. … Remember that number, 27 percent growth for our whole population? So that’s what’s going to happen in the next 20 years for our metropolitan area. But white population’s going to grow only 18 percent, and the nonwhite is going to grow 66 percent. So some radical shifts are going to take place. … In 2030, the minority is going to become the majority of all children. And we think the year 2047, the minority becomes the majority here in Richmond, the metropolitan area. And this is a good thing, because what’s going to happen, we think, is it’s going to be a really sort of blurring of racial lines. …

Shift number four: the graying population — a profound shift that a lot of us in this room might be contributing to. On Jan. 1, 2011, something really big happened. The first baby boomer turned 65. That was a big moment, because there are 76 million of us baby boomers. And every day, 11,000 more are turning 65. And it’s going to happen for the next 20 years. This is creating a phenomenon called The Age Wave. This is an irrefutable demographic trend that’s happening to America: 76 million boomers are replacing the 45 million seniors who are alive today. … If you look from 2000 to 2030, you see 11 percent of the population was seniors, 65-plus. It’s going to grow to about 20 percent, or 19 percent of the population is going to be 65-plus. Well, that’s going to happen in Virginia, too, when you project out the trend. … Boomers want to age in place. We want to keep having a legacy and keep making an impact. So all the folks in Richmond that are in the 65-plus category are more than likely to stay here. …

Shift number five: the work force composition. And this may surprise you more than any of these facts. When we look out into the future, you look at the percentage of people who are graduating from college, between male and female, in 1970, 60 percent were male, 40 percent were female. And think about our economy being a knowledge economy. Moving forward to 2010, right now about 40 percent of the graduates are male and 60 percent are female, a complete reversal.


Craig Johnson, Louisa: I’ve been in Richmond my entire life, grew up in Charles City, and just I have two stories, one, the real, real brief one, is just the wonderful family and friends that have just been so supportive I’ve had. I can’t count the number of substitute fathers I’ve had. It’s like, and I never can figure out who’s adopting who. Is it me or them doing the adopting?

But Richmond can be a tough place. … And people keep asking the question, “Well, when is Richmond going to get over the racial issue?” And so many of us allude to that. … There’s a remnant that just will not let go. They just won’t let go. And there’s all these people that profit off of that division. And it’s not just Richmond, but there’s a lot of it in Richmond. … But the good news of why that trend is going to change is that young man right there (points to Danny Yates). I have two of them. And they’re everywhere, the millennial generation. And so what I try to do is be about Richmond’s future.


Anne Goddard, Richmond: My Richmond story is very different than anyone else’s. And you asked what the word is for Richmond. My word would be, “hub, global hub.” I’m president and CEO of ChildFund International. … It started as China Children’s Fund. It moved to Christian Children’s Fund. In 2009 it moved it its name to ChildFund International. And from this organization, from the Richmond headquarters here, we now serve children in communities, poor children in communities, over 15 million around the world. We have over 500,000 supporters in the U.S. and around the world. We work in 31 countries around the world. And all those people in all those places know that the headquarters of the organization is from Richmond. … People in small villages in Africa, Asia, the Americas, know the word “Richmond.” They know the name. They’ve been associated with the organization for a long time, and they always say, “Oh, you’re coming from Richmond?” “Yes, I’m coming from Richmond.” So my Richmond is a global hub, a global hub that stretches its arms around the world and cares about children that are in poor countries that are trying to make a better life. …

I didn’t grow up in Richmond. I moved here four years ago when I became the president of this big organization, which I’m thrilled with. And four months after I moved here in April 2007 was the terrible shootings at Virginia Tech. And my son, our son, was a student there at the time. And he was one of the students injured. He was shot four times. He survived, for which we are very grateful. We were newcomers to Richmond at the time. We didn’t know anybody except the people in my office. And I have to say, many Richmonders reached out to my family, to my son. People came over and picked him up and took him out places because he couldn’t drive. People dropped things over our house, knit afghans for us, dropped things by my office. And we were only in town four months. So I have a wonderful worldwide web that’s part of my Richmond story, and also a very personal story where the town, I felt, the city, welcomed us and put their arms around us when we were in our time of need. And for that, I’m always grateful.


Chandra Smith, Richmond: I stand before you, a paper girl from many years ago, when there were two newspapers in Richmond. I delivered the evening paper. My route was Peter Paul Boulevard to Jefferson Davis Village. I also remember when there was a five and dime on 23rd Street, where you could get five pieces of candy for a penny. I also remember when Nolde’s Bakery actually baked bread. And I also remember when the Bottom really did flood. And there were three movie theaters downtown where you could choose a matinee to go to and stay all day long, where you could then catch the bus home or walk home. …

I’m also a parent of three children who attend the Richmond Public Schools. All have gone to other countries. One lived in Italy, one lived in South Africa, one’s an engineer, one’s an educator. But what I want to make sure you understand is I’m the great-granddaughter of an ex-slave. And the one thing my great-grandmother told me, because she could only get education from the lady’s home that she had cleaned, was, “In all you’re getting, get as much education, because you’re getting some for me.”


Bill Cimino, Richmond: In 2000, I started working at Circuit City. And by 2004, I was leading all of corporate communications for Circuit City. So the story I have to share tonight is a story that only four people know, which is the real end of Circuit City. And it happened on a January night in New York. There were three people from Circuit City who were there. And I was on the phone. And at that point, we had already been through the bankruptcy process. And we had actually lined up a bidder to buy the company, one of the richest men in the world.

He was willing to put in $250 million of his own dollars, more or less. And he had also lined up a consortium of foreign banks to loan him money because no U.S. banks were willing to lend to him. This was in the middle of 2008, if you recall, and 2009, the credit crisis. And this was around 10:30 at night. And the creditors turned to him and said, “We don’t think you’re serious.” At that point, we had a plan to have a cash-flow-positive company. Would have been headquartered here in Richmond. We would have turned back the dial about maybe 20 years. We would have moved the headquarters back to Thalboro. We would have employed a large number of people here.

But instead, after that, he realized that he could have still bought the company, but he never would have gotten any credit from the creditors, and he never would have been able to make the company work. So that night I had to go home and write the words that fired 34,000 people. … A large number of them had to find jobs elsewhere. There just weren’t any jobs in Richmond at the time. But all of them wanted to come back. … Because even though Circuit City, we were a national employer, we brought in people from all over the country. And when people got here, they didn’t want to leave. And to a person, the people who have left have said, “Richmond’s home.” They may have only been here two or three years, but they still felt like Richmond was home to them.


Shonda Harris-Muhammed, Richmond: I was forced by my husband to come to Richmond. I am by way of Louisa County, … a little place called Cuckoo. … And that’s where I believed I was going to live the rest of my life. … My husband dragged me to Richmond. He is Highland Park, born and raised, saying that, “I saw this house that I want us to buy, and this is where we’re going to live.” And he’s describing this house in southern Barton Heights on North Avenue. And I had a vision of this home, which was very much different from his. And so we drive to North Avenue, southern Barton Heights, with couple of people from Richmond Redevelopment and Housing Authority. And we park in front of what used to be a laundromat on East Roberts Street. And I’m going, “This is where we’re going to live? This is a laundromat.” And he said, “No, it’s the house right here on the corner.” “That’s not a house, it’s a hot mess is what it is.” …

For six months, I refused to go to that house while they were revitalizing it. I just could not picture us living in that home. And we live in that home to this day. We’ve been there since Dec. 21, 2002. I love that house. And through that time, we have witnessed from June 2002 to June 2003 our house alone had 13 bullet holes that came through the side, the back and the front. One of the bullets literally could have killed me, had I not bent over to pick up something off of my floor. I remember the police officer saying to me, when I was standing beside my husband, “How long have you all lived here?” And my husband was explaining to him how long we had lived there. And he said, “Well.” And we had two small children at that time. He said, “Well, you all are a young couple. I guess you are all going to move.” Because he could just see, they had been to our house numerous times because of the bullet holes. And I yelled out, excuse my French, “Hell, no! I put all this money. We’re staying here. We’re going to stay here. We’re going to fight. We’re going to build our ground and stand our ground. We’re going to stay here. We’re not moving.”

Here we are, two African-American young educators in Richmond city trying to make a change in southern Barton Heights. And we didn’t know how we were going to do that. But because I’m vocal and he pretty much does everything that I say, [LAUGHTER] I said, “We’re going to build the community association.” Yes, I was forced to come to Richmond. But I am very blessed that I was forced to come, because of the things that I have been able to do in Southern Barton Heights, and the children that we have been able to reach.


Elizabeth Thalhimer Smartt, Richmond: My Richmond story is about 170 years old now. My family started Thalhimers department store, which was here for 150 years. And I have had the opportunity, for 12 years, to research and write that story, and just came out with a book in October called “Finding Thalhimers,” which was really my reconnecting with the roots of the family here in Richmond, and the development of this business, which saw so much Richmond history through the Civil War, and surviving that, through all of the financial panics of the 1800s, through World War II, and my great-grandfather bringing of German Jews and providing refuge for them here in Virginia, to the Civil Rights movement and the Feb. 22, 1960, sit-ins that were at Thalhimers. … I encourage people to write down their family stories, and just like we’re sharing them tonight, keep them for your children and share them with your children and share them with the community. Because they are the record that we have moving forward.


Yvonne Brandon, superintendent, Richmond Public Schools: My Richmond story started in 1972. My parents drove me from Birmingham, Ala., to Randolph-Macon College in Ashland, Va. Think about it. Birmingham, Ala., born in the ’50s, ’60s, going to Randolph-Macon in Ashland, Va. My parents were a bit afraid. But I saw it as a means to expand. And one of my fondest memories is driving across from 95 south, headed 95 north, across the James River. And to see the skyline then of Richmond, and to remember it then, as I drive currently, I see nothing but opportunities. And I see those same opportunities in the faces that I see in kids in our schools.


Zarina Fazaldin Domingo, Richmond: I was born in Kericho, Kenya, in Africa. … My Richmond story tonight is about a Richmonder who helped me a lot here in Richmond while I was just a student and working my way. And he has passed away on Jan. 17. I want to dedicate my story to him. His name was Mr. William Baxter Perkinson Sr. He was one of my landlords in the city of Richmond. He took the time and learned more about me. He gave me advice. He helped me and encouraged me towards reaching my goal, with no regard to the fact that I was of a different nationality, or I was of a different religion and different race. He taught me the meaning and the value of hard work in this country, and encouraged me to buy my first multi-family home in Carver, even though it meant that he would be losing a good tenant. And because of the role model he displayed as a landlord, he has inspired me to become one, and I’m now in the business of developing good homes for tenants with whom I strive to have the same professional and supportive relationship that I had with Mr. Perkinson Sr.

I learned from Mr. Perkinson that being caring and supportive with your customer is not inconsistent with achieving financial and other business goals. I intend to continue his philosophy in my business, so I can be there for others in the way I was blessed to have him be there for me. … Finding people who hold your hands and accept you and invite you in their homes, and include you in the activities, it means a lot. And I had so many people like that in Richmond, and that was the reason I’ve decided to stay in Richmond. And I love Richmond very much.


Manuel Loupassi, Richmond: I was born in Greece, 1937. And I’m really glad to come in Richmond by accident. I didn’t even know that Richmond was existing . I have an uncle living in West Virginia. So I went over there to stay with him. And the first thing I did week after that, I start working the coal mines. After I stayed in West Virginia for a little while, I have a friend, here in the Park Avenue. I even still remember the address, 2914 Park Avenue. And I come in the Fourth of July, 1958. So by two days later, I start washing dishes in the first Holiday Inn, the building on Brook Road. I stayed over there washing dishes, and then I come and work here in another restaurant.

I was on a budget at the time, because I was making $30 a week. And the only thing I would spend for myself, I was walking from Grace Street to downtown because I wanted to save the bus fare. And the only budget I have at the time was 20 cents a day, because I have to send money to my family, because I was the only survivor, male survivor for my family after my daddy got killed fighting the Nazis in World War II with English commandos in the island of Crete. So anyway, I was going to Grand Drugstore here, and to buy hot tea about 11 in the night for 10 cents. And then I spent 10 more cents and would buy the Richmond Times-Dispatch.

I’m not trying to advertise the Richmond Times-Dispatch. But the Richmond Times-Dispatch was a vital part of my life. I couldn’t speak English, but I was forcing myself to read sports in the Times-Dispatch. And little by little, I started learning the language. … My philosophy in life was “do the best I can every day for the next day.” And long as you do that, a lot of good things are going to happen to you. Take your life one day at a time and do the best you can. Don’t worry about discrimination. Don’t worry about how the people look. Love everybody and work the best way you can. So anyway, I went in the Robin Inn 1964. The first thing I did, I started working 12 hours a day. I have not any vacation for 10 years. I never went anywhere but stayed in the store the whole time. … The volume I have, the good employees I have, and the great wife I have here, put me right where I want to be.