To Grandmother's House We Go

Door with peeling paint
Her first name was Ivy. She was the grandmother of my friend Morris, and she moved into this house in Mineral in the mid-1940's. Although the house was probably a single-family home originally, by the time Ivy moved in, it had been divided into two flats. She lived in the lower half of the house. Aunt Dot lived upstairs; she was the sister of one of Ivy's daughters-in-law. Not really an aunt, in other words, but that's how we say things here in The South.

Morris remembers visiting his grandmother, and staying overnight on weekends frequently. He & his brother would also spend at least one week each summer with her. The house is in Mineral, originally known as Tolersville. Morris recalls hearing the train wail in the quiet hours of deepest night, for the house is situated just a couple of streets over from the train tracks that run through town.

The town was known as Mineral at least as far back as 1902, when it was incorporated as such because of the many nearby mines. Fool's Gold (pyrite), as well as real gold, copper, sulphur, and iron ore were mined by various companies, and hauled out of Mineral over the railroad. At one time there were fifteen gold mines within two miles of town.

The picture above shows the current view of the guest room where Morris slept when he stayed with his grandmother. Like my own grandmother, Ivy was poor but feisty, and she enjoyed having her family in to visit. Although the home was small, with two bedrooms, a living room, and an eat-in kitchen, places were found for everyone to sleep. Privacy wasn't a priority when it came to family get-togethers. There were two double beds in the guest room, and the overflow would sleep on sofas or with Ivy.

All the women would pitch in to cook the family meals. Ivy had a "modern" stove in a corner, and a wood stove along the center of one wall. The kitchen was large, but there was no dining room, so meals were served in three sittings at the kitchen table. Ivy ate with the men at the first seating, since it was her house. Her presence probably discouraged food fights, also. The rest of the women took the second seating, and the kids ate last.

The women cleaned up after the meal, except for Aunt Kat who disappeared upstairs to her siser's flat with a promise to be back to help in a minute. The other women exchanged looks, because they knew they wouldn't see Kat & her manicured nails until the last pot was washed & dried. The men & children ran off to play.

Morris and I were on one of our explorations, this time through the countryside northwest of Richmond. We visited his mother's grave in Hanover County, and then continued into Louisa County, stopping in Mineral to see his grandmother's old place.

Both of our grandmothers lived through hard times in the Great Depression, and both spent most of their lives in rented homes. My grandmother bought her first home in the 1960's when she herself was in her 60's. Morris's grandmother lived at her home in Mineral until she died at the hospital in the 1980's. Both of our grandmothers were widowed in their 60's, and lived into their 90's. Both used wringer washers, and enjoyed their stories (soap operas) on afternoon television. You could hear the trains pass by from both houses; one in Mineral, the other in Morrison, Iowa. For their grandchildren, both created lasting memories of home-cooked meals and the fellowship of family.

Ivy never locked her doors. In fact, when new tenants moved in following her death, the landlord had to install locks on the doors. Now, the house has been vacant for many years. It was the first time that Morris had been inside since the estate sale. It was good to see him walking through the rooms, and hear him share his memories. Mineral is today a sleepy town with many of its businesses gone and old buildings demolished. Coleman Hotel, Mineral Hotel, Noel's Store, and the Mineral Tea Room exist only in photographs. The town has a population of a little over 400 souls, quite a drop since the 1910 census tallying 3,200.

Morris remembers when staying in Mineral meant excitement. We both grew up in suburban neighborhoods; you got in the car to go places. At his grandmother's, he was right in town, with trains chugging by, stores a short stroll away, and the fire station down the block. It was heaven for a child from suburban Richmond.

As we drove away for more adventures, we both reflected silently on our childhood memories. I would walk to the post office to fetch Grandma's mail, and return to her house for a glass of cold milk & a handful of homemade cookies. The postmistress, Jessie, would put a notice of our visit in the social column of the Grundy County Register, and it was always exciting to see our names in the newspaper. Grandma knew who lived in every house in town. Times sure have changed.

Where Have I Been?

The year has flown by on winged feet, hasn't it? I decorated the office for Christmas earlier this week with a little silver tree with blue ornaments atop a bookcase, and a Santa and a red & green basket filled with chocolate candies on my desk. I already need to buy more candy; the people who drop in have been like vultures.

Friday night, after work, I went out to dinner with a buddy, and snapped the top photo of a porch in the Fan District. I'll be taking more pictures for you as more homes are decorated for the holidays. Many of the houses on Monument Avenue put on lavish displays, and I'm waiting for the illumination of the Christmas Cadillac.

I know that Christmas comes at a predictable time each year, but why do I always feel caught off guard? There's always too much to do in too little time. I enjoy the holidays, though, and I can certainly admire how my mother always seemed to have everything running according to schedule. She sent out boxes of Christmas cards, wrapped & packaged gifts and took them to the post office to mail to distant friends & relatives in time for Christmas delivery, and filled the cupboards with homemade goodies for guests. I remember the feeling of good cheer when people would drop in for a holiday visit. Christmas was a wonderful time of year in my childhood home. Here's a really easy recipe that my mom used to make, in addition to the cakes, pies, fudge, cookies & bars. These are so simple a child could make them, and they are quite tasty.

Butterscotch Crunchies
5 cups cornflakes
2 small packages butterscotch chips
3 tablespoons peanut butter
Melt butterscotch chips and peanut butter in a double-boiler until smooth. Place cornflakes in a large mixing bowl. Pour butterscotch mixture over cornflakes, and fold in carefully to coat thoroughly. Drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper. Allow to cool & set until firm.

This post, however, is more about autumn photographs, before it gets too late to share them with you. You will see the transition from early to late fall in the pictures. In October I traveled to Roanoke to attend an AA state assembly. Roanoke is three hours from Richmond by car, and it was the first time I've been back there since I got sober. I used to have extended business trips there, sometimes being there for months on an assignment. Boy, did I drink a lot out of loneliness and boredom in those days. I wasn't ready yet for sobriety, but I could have been meeting people & making new friends. This time I was in the midst of hundreds of people like me who enjoy the fun of a sober life.

I took the smaller highways, and the picture below was taken in the small town of Buckingham. The town was established in 1818, and the original courthouse was designed by Thomas Jefferson, but it burned down in 1869. Buckingham is home to Yogaville, where many of my friends have gone for retreats. I'm not sure what the building in the photo was before it was left to the elements, but I've been looking at it for years while passing through the small village, and wondering what it was.

(Possibly the Whately Mill from The Shuttered Room?)

My route took me through Appomattox, where Lee surrendered to Grant. Most people assume that this was the official end of the Civil War, but it was not. It was certainly the nail in the coffin, however, and effectively determined the outcome of the war. When I was little, my parents & I took an overnight trip to tour the historic park, and we stayed at the motel pictured below. It looks pretty much the same as it did in the 1960's.


Here's an old country store & service station, which now sits empty at Mount Rush. By the way, the abandoned building is Mount Rush, because there's nothing else at this crossroads other than a house or two. This could be the business opportunity you have been waiting for.


Here's what I'm talking about. You can use the example below as your business model. On Route 60, on the outskirts of Buckingham, I found an old gas station that has been painted pink and turned into a massage parlor. I didn't have time to stop to inspect the interior, but it probably looks fabulous. I'm all about adaptive re-use.



Below is an example of the pleasant countryside. I'm so much happier when I am traveling on the forgotten highways. Interstate highways are fine if I absolutely have to travel as fast as possible, but I prefer the interesting sights that can only be seen when you travel the old roads.


Before it was time to put her boat to bed for the winter, Sadie took me out for an end-of-season cruise. We left around twilight, and it was a pleasant, slow ride. Darkness came swiftly, so there were not any opportunities for a shutterbug, but I did get an okay shot from the water of the Boathouse Restaurant glittering at night. Several of us have enjoyed their Sunday brunch, and the view of the James River as we dined.


One evening after work, I met my friend Linus at a nearby Starbucks for coffee & conversation. Linus recently had back surgery, so he's out & about in his neighborhood taking walks to aid his recovery. One advantage of a slow walk is being able to enjoy sights that are easily missed from a moving car. Linus urged me to take some daytime pictures of a beautiful little maple tree on Grove Avenue at the peak of its fall splendor, so I dashed by there the next day. I wasn't one bit disappointed.




I've been admiring a 1961 Chrysler that sits in a parking lot on the side of Church Hill, so I stopped to take a few shots one Sunday.
Ah, the exuberance of fins!



This '61 model has a friendly, slightly zany expression. The 1960 Chryslers looked bellicose.


This isn't the clearest picture because of the glare, but I can't resist an old dashboard. You can't see it from this angle, but this car featured the "pushbutton" transmission.


Morris & I decided to go on a ride one Saturday afternoon, and after some indecision about the direction to take, ended up driving south and then east. This put us in Hopewell, which is a tired little industrial town at the convergence of the Appomattox & James Rivers.

There is one section of Hopewell that neither one of us had visited called City Point. It was quite pretty and somnolent. We went on Thanksgiving weekend, so I figured that everyone was inside taking naps. We parked near old Appomattox Manor, and it was hard to believe that this silent & still setting was, briefly, one of the busiest ports in the world.

The rivers meet at City Point



Boy, if these walls could talk! Appomattox Manor remained in the same family from 1635 until 1979. Benedict Arnold led his British troops across the plantation during the American Revolution, and the property was used by General Grant as his headquarters during the Siege of Petersburg during the Civil War. Abraham Lincoln vacationed here just a few weeks before his death. At the time of the Civil War, Appomattox Manor was a 2300 acre James River plantation.

Federal forces recognized the strategic value of this point that watched the two rivers. An enormous supply depot & railroad facilities, and a huge hospital were built here, and the resulting port was the busiest in the world during the Petersburg siege. The capture of Petersburg and its railroads led to Lee's surrender about a week later.

When the Eppes family returned at war's end, the house was in shambles and the plantation was all but destroyed. Somehow, the family was able to prevail and rebuild.

A quaint & curious little building on City Point.
Town Hall? Schoolhouse? Quaker Meeting House?
There was no plaque to inform us.

Our last photograph shows an old house on the outskirts of downtown Claremont. When we left City Point, I asked Morris if he had ever been to Claremont. He replied that he had not ever been to Claremont. I asked him if he had ever heard of Claremont. He allowed that he had never heard of Claremont. So we went to Claremont.
Claremont has a population of 343.

Claremont is a town that seems forgotten, almost like one of the Miskatonic hamlets in an H.P. Lovecraft story. You have to turn off a two-lane road, and travel several lonely miles up a road that dead-ends at Claremont. Clearly, the town experienced a period of commercial activity, and anticipated more prosperity than ever arrived. There is a tiny traffic roundabout, and a couple of rows of dilapidated vacant storefronts. There is at least one structure that may have been a hotel. A church or two. All have a forlorn look, as if the parade came and went, and they have given up on its return.

Going Home Again

Hey! Keep it down. I'm trying to catch a few zzzz's.

Probably not a good idea, since I'm at work. Actually, this will be a busy week, trying to cram all the end of month reports into three days so I can enjoy time off over Thanksgiving. The picture there at the top was taken at Chesapeake Beach, also known as Chicks Beach, in the city of Virginia Beach. Morris & I took a day trip recently, and I brought back some pictures to show you.

That's the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, which connects Virginia's mainland with its Eastern Shore. When my grandparents were visiting from Iowa, my grandfather & I used to sit on the beach and watch the bridge being constructed. When it was completed in 1964, it was considered an engineering marvel, spanning 17.6 miles from shore to shore. I grew up a couple of miles from this stretch of beach.

We ate lunch at Jenro's Diner (two thumbs up!) where we had excellent sandwiches and caramel-apple pie with ice cream. Then we meandered into Norfolk. The photo of the car above was taken in the Ghent section, which is similar to Richmond's Fan District. The next two pictures are of houses in Ghent.


(I love this next house...I want to hang out in that third floor room and read books)


Before we went from Virginia Beach into Norfolk, we drove through my old neighborhood. It looked very quiet and pleasant. There was a twinge of anticipation as we turned down the street where I lived. How would my old homeplace look? Would trashy people be living there now, with cars up on blocks and a passel of brats squalling in the front yard? I was so happy to see that my old house looks almost the same as when my parents lived there. A few trees have been removed, but the swing that my dad put in the side yard in the mid-70's is still right there. My high school friends & I used to hang out there and talk.

The house looks neat as a pin, and I was so grateful to see that the current owners obviously love the place as much as we did. All of my childhood memories center on this modest 1950's suburban home; I never lived anywhere else until I left Virginia Beach for Richmond.

So, may I present to you my first home. The first picture shows the house, and the next picture shows the side yard. If you look close, you can see the swing in the yard; if you squint, you can barely see my dad's shed way in the back of the yard.




Okay, sorry for the quick post, but I've got to get back to work. Just wanted you all to know that I'm here & well. If I don't see you before then, have a very Happy Thanksgiving!

The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down

Somewhere around here in the House of Planet Bill, there's a box containing all of my report cards and other school records. It's probably in the guest room, a.k.a. junk room, ironing board room, lower attic, and someone-else-could-use-this-so-don't-just-throw-it-away room. There is a bed in there somewhere, so I usually call it the guest room.

I don't need to look at my elementary school report cards to know what the teachers carefully noted on most of them. Little cautionary messages like "Billy has trouble paying attention in class" and "Billy stares out the window and daydreams." Today, I would probably be saddled with a diagnosis of Attention Deficit Disorder and drugged into illusory compliance. I was usually simply bored to distraction by the slow pace of instruction. I also liked to daydream.

History lesson were especially wearisome. Good Lord, how many names and dates would I be forced to memorize? Why should I care on which exact date a certain battle was won or lost? There was never a connection made that these were real people, just like me, who had hopes and fears. I wanted to know whether they were fat or thin, grumpy or light-hearted. What was this man's favorite color? Did he like to climb trees like I did? Did corned beef hash with that egg on top make him as queasy as it did me everytime I saw it on a plate? How did they tidy up in those outhouses without rolls of toilet paper?

Growing up in Virginia, history lessons were inescapable (except by daydreaming out the window). Cape Henry, the site of the first landing of permanent English settlers in America, was just a few miles from my school. Adam Thoroughgood House, the first brick home in America, was within walking distance of my classroom. Everywhere I turned, someone notable had been tramping around before I got there.

Now that I live in history-rich Richmond, I have a real interest in events from the past. It also helps to be sober, because now I actually get out of the house to go visit historical places. I have deep gratitude that I am surrounded by so many different places that formed the fabric of our nation, so to speak. I am filled with awe to think that I am walking the same streets as Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, Robert E. Lee, and Abraham Lincoln.

During the past few years, I have been exploring the history of the Civil War. Virginia saw more battles during this horrible conflict than any other state. I'm currently plowing through the third volume of The Civil War by Shelby Foote. Today's post is about the night Richmond was abandoned by the Confederate government. Most of this information was taken from Mr. Foote's book, with a few other snippets I've gleaned elsewhere thrown in as well.

Like Rome, it is said that Richmond was built on seven hills. Richmond also burned, like ancient Rome. Much of Richmond was spared, and I've included below a few photographs I have taken of antebellum buildings in the city. I took all of the color pictures - except for the vintage classroom picture at the top - with my cheap digital camera; the black & white pictures are archival photographs taken after the Union troops captured the Confederate capital.

Abraham Lincoln declared that securing Virginia's Capitol, designed by Thomas Jefferson (inspired by the Maison Carrée), was a priority for the Union troops. There were several hours, however, when this building stood unprotected, and it is probable that its lone position at the top of the hill was the only thing that spared it from destruction. The pictures toward the bottom of this post were taken on a visit I made to the Capitol in September.

St. John's Church at nightfall, scene of Patrick Henry's Liberty or Death speech

On a Sunday morning in April, 1865, a telegram from General Robert E. Lee was delivered by a War Department messenger to the President of the Confederacy midway through the morning service as he was seated in his pew at St. Paul's Church. The Confederate head of state left the church immediately, silently. Twelve hours later, Jefferson Davis and his cabinet fled Richmond by rail, and before the presidential train departed the station, the streets of the city were choked with panicked citizens, pillaging marauders, and convicts whose guards had abandoned their posts. Mobs stormed government storehouses seeking food, and looters smashed merchants' windows looking for anything of value they could steal with impunity.

The Keeper's Cottage in St. John's Churchyard

The fall of Richmond was at hand. The Confederate forces were pulling out, leaving only demolition squads behind to begin torching the tobacco warehouses and munitions buildings. The city officials protested, but there was no ranking member of government left to delay the army's orders.

Detail of a home on Church Hill

A south wind nourished the flames, and soon they leapt from the tobacco warehouses to the enormous riverside grain mills, the largest flour mills in the world. As smoke and flames belched from hundreds of windows at the Haxall and Gallego Mills, the city was jolted by the explosion of a nearby magazine.

This was followed by a another, much closer, that was described as volcanic in its violence. The national arsenal, with 750,000 loaded projectiles, was being destroyed and the explosions went on for hours. A diarist wrote "the earth seemed fairly to writhe as if in agony. The house rocked like a ship at sea, while stupendous thunders roared around."

A House on Grace Street, Church Hill District

Meanwhile, at Rocketts Landing, Admiral Raphael Semmes saw to the destruction of his James River Squadron. When his three ironclad warships blew, he wrote that the sight was "grand beyond description. The explosion...threw all the shells, with their fuses lighted, into the air. The fuses were of different lengths, and as the shells exploded by twos and threes, and by the dozen, the pyrotechnic effect was very fine." The citizens of Richmond, many of them women whose husbands, sons, and brothers were off fighting the war, were likely too terrified to find any beauty in the night's sights and sounds.

A Richmond Street in Ruins

By this time, both railroad bridges out of the city were impassable with flames. Only Mayo's Bridge had been kept open for the departure of the rear guard, and barrels of tar and stacks of pine knots placed at intervals along the length of the bridge signaled its imminent destruction. Shortly before dawn, the brigadier of the rear guard saw his troops across the bridge and gave the order to the engineer in charge, "All over. Goodbye. Blow her to hell."

Aftermath of Explosion at Confederate National Arsenal

Across the river, a retreating horseman observed "The old war-torn city seemed to prefer annihilation to conquest." The fires on the city's banks had spread laterally for nearly a mile, and the flames were spreading north up the hills toward the heart of the city. Residents were burned out of their homes, and looters had to run with whatever they could carry.

Sunset on the James River near Rocketts Landing

Two days after Richmond burned, Abraham Lincoln made an extraordinary visit to Richmond, about one week before he was assassinated at Ford's Theater. Perhaps I will tell you about that soon. Below are pictures of the Capitol, which underwent a complete renovation between 2004-2007, just in time for a visit from Betty Windsor, Queen Elizabeth II.

This, and the following photographs, were taken at the Virginia State Capitol

Meet Me Under the Clock

That's the clock from Richmond's venerable old department store, Miller & Rhoads. "Under the clock" was a favorite meeting place for Richmonders when they were having a busy shopping day downtown. The clock hangs in the Valentine Museum now that the store is no longer in business.

When I first moved to Richmond in the late 70's, M&R's flagship store downtown was a fine experience. You could have lunch in their tearoom, and watch models parade down the runway in M&R's latest offerings. You could have anything you bought delivered to your home at no extra cost if you didn't feel like lugging your purchased items around the store. Morris remembers a perfume fountain at one store entrance, where ladies could dip their hands as they passed by. Doesn't that sound more refined than those aggravating perfume girls who wait to pounce on you with a blast of fragrance?


The Valentine is Richmond's local history museum, and Morris & I went there in September for a Gay Richmond History Bus Tour. Before we set out on the little gay bus, we toured the museum exhibits. I snapped a couple of photos of the old retail signs that the Valentine has saved from the wrecking ball.

Thalhimers was the city's other upscale department store, Miller & Rhoads' arch-rival, and now there's an empty lot where the downtown department store stood. You can take a gander at it below; that's all that's left of Thalhimer's - a flat, empty plot - with the new Federal Court Building in the distance.


Miller & Rhoads, at least most of it, has been "adaptively re-used" as expensive condominium & hotel space. Morris & I, ever nosey, went to see the condominiums in early October. They were overpriced, in my opinion, but it's nice to see the downtown area being revitalized by people moving back into the district.


The next picture was taken from one of the condominium's terraces, looking down onto the roof of the Berry-Burk store. Berry-Burk, another retail establishment from the past, was a quality men's store where I used to buy clothes. Now you can live there. A lot of the empty Richmond business buildings have been converted to residential spaces.

The Sidewalk Cafe is one of my favorite places for casual meals, with its Miss Sidewalk mural on the side of the building. They are known for reasonably priced food and ample serving sizes. A few years ago when I worked a couple of blocks from the restaurant, I went in for lunch one day - not really terribly hungry, I ordered a hummus appetizer. I swear it was served on a hubcap. The platter was huge, and there was more food than four people could have handled. Their fried calamari is another personal favorite, but I've never been disappointed with anything I've tried on the menu.


Alamo BBQ is on Union Hill, and I love this wee building. I guess it used to be a filling station. Award winning barbeque. Outdoor dining or carry-out only. The patio area features a few tables attended by flies the size of bumblebees, and they attack your food in predatory packs, like wolves. They give you time to get settled at the table with your food while they develop their strategy, and then one diverts your attention while the rest of the pack swarms your sandwiches & sides. Good luck. You'll need it.


It would be a shame to post so close to Halloween without photographs of people dressed like idiots, so I'll include a couple of shots from Sadie's last party. Here we have Sheldon & Robespierre; Sheldon wearing his traditional fool's cap, and Robespierre dressed like the prince he believes himself to be. Sheldon recently celebrated 16 years of sobriety, and Robespierre marked his fifth year. The hats were on loan from the Planet Bill Collection, and both gentlemen were very gracious about wearing them...for much longer than anyone really wanted them to. Aren't they cuter than speckled pups under a mushroom?


And here's little Romeo, celebrating his real live birthday, which happened to fall on the same day as Sadie's party. Romeo was not a good sport about his Planet Bill Birthday Cake Hat, which he snatched off his head as soon as the picture was taken. Perhaps he was afraid that his bespoke haberdasher would see this compromising photograph.


Now we come to four photographs of an apartment building in the Wilton section of Richmond. This exclusive neighborhood, nestled between Cary Street Road to the north and the James River to the south, is characterized by steep hills, mature trees, deep ravines, and expensive single-family homes. Houses in this section are mostly traditionally designed, with an emphasis on Federal, Georgian, and Colonial styles.

Seeing a 10-unit apartment building in the International style at the juncture of Tempsford & Kennondale Lanes was both jarring and exhilarating. It's fantastic! George Hoppe must have felt the same way when he saw the 1931 Exhibit of the International Style at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.

George Hoppe returned to Richmond after spending several years in New York, and was one of the first to design & construct buildings in this new modern style in a city with a strong traditional aesthetic. I'm sure the neighbors blanched with disgust and had to pour themselves a double bourbon when they looked at "that eyesore across the street."


From the Virginia Department of Historic Resources records:
George Hoppe’s building at 101 Tempsford Lane as well as the single family dwelling he constructed next door are two rare early examples of the International Style of architecture in the City of Richmond.
The style developed in 1925 in Europe, particularly in Germany after WW1 as a departure from the previous architectural styles which were heavily influenced by history, ornamentation and architectural details. This new, modern style wanted to design buildings that were “Machines for living”, and were stripped of unnecessary details and focused on the function, materials and mass of a building. Famous architects such as Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe and Gropius are noted for immigrating to America and introducing these modern, radical architectural ideas.


Hoppe’s buildings are particularly significant examples of this style due to their early construction dates, late 1930s and early 1940s. The well known Rice House, an International Style dwelling designed by Austrian architect, Richard Neutra, was built 30 years later, just down the banks of the James River from 101 Tempsford Lane.


The asymmetrical building form, unornamented exterior walls, flush exterior steel windows, flat roofs and lack of detail are all characteristics found in Hoppe’s modernist buildings, which also respond to their unique terrains. Functionalism is a theme throughout Hoppe’s 101 Tempsford Lane. The stepping terraces, steel vestibules, glass block, and steel windows are all a nod to the idea of a building working as a machine. [note: Hoppe even installed a radiant heat system in this building]

The building is undergoing restoration, and I was able to enter a couple of units. I couldn't resist taking a picture of this mid-century bathroom sink. It is almost identical to the bathroom sink from my childhood, with its slender chrome legs and attached towel bars.