Truth Be Told: Virginia

VB: The Big Mouth in Gracetown

Episode Summary

From the bus stop to the courthouse–In Gracetown, hard-earned advances came with some unintended impacts. “Old Fashioned Fannie” followed in the footsteps of her grandfather–standing up for herself and her community. Is it possible to preserve community connections in the face of change?

Episode Notes

From the bus stop to the courthouse–In Gracetown, hard-earned advances came with some unintended impacts. “Old Fashioned Fannie” followed in the footsteps of her grandfather–standing up for herself and her community. Is it possible to preserve community connections in the face of change? 

https://www.vbschools.com/departments/office-for-diversity-equity-and-inclusion

https://www.vaaccvb.org/

Episode Transcription

slow, echo-driven music

Nichole Hill: If you’re ever driving down Independence Blvd, headed towards Northampton Blvd–and you’re REALLY looking for it, you might see a green sign on the side of the road that reads Gracetown, 1991. 

That is the year the city of Virginia Beach paved Gracetown’s streets, added water lines, drainage, installed heating systems and indoor plumbing, but it is by no means the starting date of this historically Black community where the residents chose joy in the face of several obstacles.

This story takes us to Gracetown and more specifically, Weldon Street. Back in the day, this street was the only one in and out of this community. 

 Fannie Dixon: My name is Fanny Williams Dixon, old-fashioned Fanny, f a n n i e.  I'm from Virginia Beach.

As I remember, my grandfather telling me, cuz I used to question him all the time. One of the slave owners got this neighborhood and he got all the Black people that come together in this neighborhood and he had a daughter named Grace. 

So he named it after this daughter and everybody started calling it Gracetown. 

Princess Anne County is what it was, really first named. 

Sounds of kids playing in a neighborhood

Fannie Dixon: Well, my grandfather was a farmer. There were eight of us, but seven of us lived together and my grandfather he had like all the vacant lots in the neighborhood, and it was about over 200, 250 people that lived in the neighborhood, but we looked out for each other.

Nichole Hill: Fannie’s grandfather had a garden that kept them and their neighbor’s fed.

Fannie Dixon: You didn’t know you were poor until you got out of your neighborhood. Because everything that he grew, in the neighborhood, people had a chance to go to the fields, pick whatever, if  it was beans, corns, beets, squash, or  tomatoes, anything. The neighborhood could go and get that, and then, it was just shared with everybody. 

You looked out for your neighbor. If we had something to eat, Mr. Jefferson down here had something to eat.

Sound of kids playing outside

There were a lot of kids. There were a lot of US, you know, and if one of em got in trouble, all of us were in trouble, cause we would help out. 

Oh, just the joy of just growing up in a neighborhood. We didn't do anything by yourself. You know, that's the neighborhood we grew up in.

School bell sound

Fannie Dixon: They built our school, that Princess Anne County Training School down there off of Cleveland Street. And we had to be bused down 

The bus that we caught, it would pick up from Burton, Lake Smith, Gracetown, and Beachwood. So we had to be out there by seven o'clock in the morning on the front of Inde, which is called Independence Boulevard now. But it was just a two-lane highway and we, that's where we all would meet under the big tree in case it would rain, get cold, we'll be had little shelter or whatever under the tree.

We would just be out there waiting for the school bus and of course the white kids would come by, call us names, throw eggs.. 

Sound of bus approaching

Oh, well at first when it first started, you know, we reluctant and kept back. But then it's like the guys all together and we were all the girls, were all  together. So we, and when they started something we were right behind them. We would getting 'em, we would start getting rocks and have a little piles, have our little eggs out there, and one, we would steal–get eggs from home and just bring them home.

Mom and them– parents didn't know we were doing that, but,...but (laugh) we would bring them and then when they start throwing, we just start throwing 'em. When the school bus start going, we start and then they stopped it finally, cuz they know we weren't going to take it.

Yeah. Yeah, it was good time because that's something that, hey, y'all started it, so we gonna end it. 

Sound of bus pulling away

Nichole Hill: Despite being a taxpayer, Fannie’s grandfather still had to advocate for basic attention from the city. 

He was living in a time when the color of your skin determined your place, there was an unspoken tax that weighed heavily on the shoulders of Black VB residents, people like Fannie’s grandfather found themselves in a relentless battle for basic rights and dignity.

Fannie Dixon: My grandfather  was one of the, the, the, the other instrumental in me, You know, black neighborhoods, you had holes, you had you down the road, you didn't have no streets, you had roads, but you know, white folks had streets or whatever. 

And so he would get up early, early in the morning and he would put on his Sunday clothes, go to the Courthouse and sit down until somebody would ask him what he wanted, what he's doing there.

So he would even thumb his way to the Courthouse. And just sit there till they will listen at what he want. 

Nichole Hill: Once he got an audience he pushed for the basic services that the residents of Gracetown needed.

Fannie Dixon: And that's how in Gracetown how we started getting the roads and getting the streets paved and whatever. The first street was, Weldon Street was paved cuz that the street we lived on, and see it had big holes in all in. He just got tired of it.  So then finally, then all the streets start getting paved and start getting there. But he went after what he wanted. He saw the need. and that's the way I am. Cause I got a big mouth. But (laughs) it was, oh, it was good because everybody used--that was the only street we'd come because everything crossed on Weldon. One by one. They start doing all. So the, the neighborhood start, you know, growing and getting like that.

Mm-hmm. The streets paved. 

Nichole Hill: These improvements were completed in 1992. By then, the city had paved other neighborhoods, white neighborhoods, but had neglected historically Black ones.

And then the Target Neighborhood program came along which allocated funds to make overdue investments in Black Neighborhoods in Virginia Beach. 

The infrastructure improvements that followed as a result of this program and the advocacy of Gracetown residents helped to improve basic living conditions but, they also brought about other changes to the neighborhood. Ones they hadn’t anticipated. 

Fannie Dixon: Integration was kind of bad for us because we were that village.  And you could check or do anybody's kids or whatever, but you can't do that now. So. But if we had just had equal share of schools and books and any and everything else, it would've been all right, but, and it then it is good because it opens up a lot of stuff too, but it was just bad for us. As Black as being Black folk.  

Nichole Hill: The look and feel of Fanny’s community changed along with the improvements that her Grandfather had advocated for. She no longer lives in Gracetown. 

How can you be a part of helping your neighborhood stay current while maintaining the kind connectivity that Fanny remembers? And when you move into a new neighborhood-how can its past help to inform your actions?

Visit our website Truthbetoldcommunity.com to find out ways to get involved, and share this episode with friends. 

This series was written by Jackie Glass and Hannah Sobol, edited and hosted by me, Nichole Hill, Sound Design by Trendel Lightburn, and our work has been supported by the Virginia African American Cultural Center through a grant from Virginia Tourism Corporation. Follow our work by subscribing wherever you get your podcasts. We couldn’t do this without people brave enough to share their experiences, so thank you Mrs. Fanny Williams Dixon!