Hannah Fentress

 I am happy to count Hannah Fentress as one of my neighbors.  Hannah's husband Joseph moved to Woodstock in 1952, having purchased the house and property that is today 604-612 Woodstock Road.  Hannah and Joseph married after the death of his first wife, Emily (d. 1965) and Hannah remained a Woodstock resident until she died in 2001 at the age of 91.

If you think it odd that I consider a woman who died 10 years before I moved here a neighbor, then I beg your favor in this matter.  Woodstock is defined not only by the present, but also the past; and there are neighbors still living here that remember Hannah.  We both traveled along the same road, and I wonder if someday my road will lead to where she is.

I don't know why Hannah wrote this short biography less than two years before her death in 2001, but it fills me with awe to think that I know neighbors who knew Hannah -- who recalls leaving her birthplace in a covered wagon.

Thanks to Mark Robison who sent me this document and photo back in 2013.

History of my Life

I was born in Portland, Oregon in 1909, on December 13. Just think if I had been born nine years sooner I would have lived in 1900 and 2000.

We left Portland in 1911 in a covered wagon. Not many people had cars then. We went to Illinois by train in 1915. My Mother's people lived there. Her sister took us someplace where we sat on a bank. I was five years old and I thought that it was the end of the world. The fifth child was born there. We went to Charlotte, N.C. in 1920 to see my Father's family. In 1920 my brother was born. We were living at Camp Green. We had a well there and the soldiers would stop and get a drink of water. There was a persimmon tree by. They were nice and rosy cheeks but by no means ripe. They looked tempting. I don't know how many soldiers tried them but some did. They got a very bitter mouthful as they are supposed to be soft and brown.

We came to Ocean View, Norfolk. We purchased property and put up a tent my Father built sides to, and finally had nice house. We moved several times but finally settled in Glenrock where we built and I married in 1929.

I went to work for the City Manager of Norfolk as a cook. They found out that I was going to get married and asked us to go to their Summer House in Accomack County.

We bought 100 chicks right away. The first night the rats got half of them. The next night they got the rest. That was the end of our chicken business. They had a yacht and paid my husband to take them out in it. They had oyster floats where the crabs shed their shells. They had clams and fishes, also. People were not there always. We had the place to ourselves especially in winter. They had a Methodist Church. We picked strawberries in the Spring when we came back to Norfolk.

I went to work at the Navy Yard. I had a little machine that I set up my own work. When they were laying the women off, there were eight left. I had a piece of material the size of a thimble. I made each of us a thimble and the boss, too. After that I went to work in a clothing plant in the coat department. Each piece of the coat was made separately and then put together. 

When that closed down I took in children and kept them until I was past seventy years old and settled down to be a housewife.

I was baptized at fourteen years and have been going to the same Church for seventy-one years. Praise the Lord!

At the time that I was taking care of children I was getting married again. I had four children from the same family that I had kept over four years. My fiance told their Mother that we would take them if we could adopt them. She took them back. The youngest; Debbie, kept crying for me. Her Mother said we could adopt her. She is now forty-two years old and has helped me a lot, although she has been married eight years. They haven't any children, yet. I will be ninety years old in December. Praise the Lord that I can still keep house and go to Church each Sunday.

Thomson's Corner & Coleman Farm

In 2003 a group from Oaklette United Methodist Church published a book entitled Indian River: From Farmland to Suburbs 1700-1960. They gathered dozens of stories and hundreds of photos from members and neighbors to produce a detailed history of the Oaklette/Norfolk Highlands area. Unfortunately the book is out of print and hard to come by these days, so hopefully a parishioner will see fit to donate a copy to the Virginia Beach Public Library.

 

There are a couple of photos in that book that might be of interest to Woodstock residents, and the good people of Oaklette UMC have granted me permission to share them with you:

 

THOMSON'S CORNER

 

This photo is originally credited to Marjorie Wolters.
Reprinted here by permission of Oaklette UMC.

 

Look carefully and you will see handwriting in the top-right corner that says "Thomson's store 1902". Thomson's Corner, known more recently as Barrett's Corner, is the intersection of Providence and Indian River Roads. The structure at the center of the photo is Thomson's store, which was located on the property that is now Lidl's northeast parking lot. To the right, Indian River Road extends northwest toward Norfolk Highlands, Oaklette and Berkeley; and to the left, [Old] Providence Road extends southwest toward South Norfolk (though in 1902 Providence Road was referred to as Kempsville Road or "the road from Kempsville to Providence Church.").

While the photo is clearly from an age gone by, the 1902 date is in question. Robert Thomson was born in 1881 in Lanarkshire, Scotland, and emigrated to the U.S. in 1904. In 1909 he purchased several acres of land between Indian River and [Old] Providence roads (from the intersection west to the old bank property) and set up shop. It is certainly possible that the photo is from 1902 but the structure was referred to as "Thomson's store" when the photo was labeled and cataloged at a later time. It is also possible that the photo was taken at some point between 1909 and 1936.

Robert Thomson died in October of 1936. In June of 1946 the land was purchased by Joseph A. Barrett, Sr. The area is still referred to as Barrett's Corner today.

 

COLEMAN FARM

 

This photo is originally credited to Bonnie P. Moore.
It is reprinted here by permission of Oaklette UMC.

 

Immediately behind Thomson's store, a little further down Providence Road and about 40 years later, is the G.C. Coleman Farm (now College Park). The barn pictured here survived until recently, having served for many years as the meeting hall of Trinity Tabernacle Church (aka "The Barn"). Today that land hosts the 900 Aquoa apartment complex.

This photo is dated ca. 1945; and based on the angles of the buildings in view, I will guess that the photo was taken somewhere near the Dunkin Donuts entrance on Old Providence Road, facing south. Providence Road was re-routed ca. 1970 to the other side of the barn as Coleman Farm was developed into the College Park subdivision.

A special "thank you" to Frank Nuckols Jr., who let me borrow his copy of the book.

 

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Jesse J. Parkerson

While Pheby Richards holds the title of Woodstock's first resident, it was Jesse J. Parkerson who transitioned much of Woodstock from woodland to neighborhood during World War II. From the mid-nineteenth century until 1940, most of the property east of Woodstock Road was just that -- wood stock; 150 acres of timberland [1]. Raymond DeFrees purchased this land from his brother-in-law Emmet Don Sheets in 1929, but lost the property to foreclosure during the economic turmoil of the 1930's [2]. Jesse J. Parkerson, a real-estate investor and president of the Merchants and Planters bank purchased the property out of foreclosure. He parceled it up into 4 and 8 acre lots which were then sold off over the next 8 years [3].

Princess Anne County Map Book 12 page 45. At this time, Woodstock Road is known simply as "Public Road" and Walker Road is "Private Road".

 

Parkerson called upon Burt Hunter, a tenant farmer who had been living in Woodstock for nearly 10 years, to meet with potential buyers and show property boundaries. In trade for his services, Mr. Parkerson conveyed a 1 acre plot of land at the corner of Woodstock and Walker Road to Burt and his wife Della.

The following is an excerpt from the 1959 book, The History of Lower Tidewater Virginia:

JESSE J. PARKERSON—Since 1929, Jesse J. Parkerson has been president of the Merchants and Planters Bank of Norfolk, and his experience in his profession dates from the early years of the century. He joined the staff of the bank in 1902 and has played a conspicuous part in its growth. Not only as a banker but as a progressive citizen and promoter of civic causes, he has proved his value to the area.

Born July 23, 1884, in Berkley, Virginia, now a part of the city of Norfolk, he is a son of the late W. T. J. and Cherry (Martin) Parkerson. After attending public and private schools and a business college, he began his career in Berkley as a runner for the Merchants and Planters Bank on January 2, 1902. Advancing through the positions of bookkeeper and teller, he was made cashier on December 31, 1909, and was elected president on January 16, 1929.

The Merchants and Planters Bank was the first financial institution to be established in that part of the city which lies across the eastern branch of the Elizabeth River. It opened its doors April 1, 1900. Founded through the efforts of Alvah H. Martin, Sr., and other progressive citizens, it began its existence with a capital of thirty thousand dollars. Foster Black was its first president, and he was succeeded by Alvah H. Martin, who saw the bank's capital increased to fifty thousand dollars. Following the death of Mr. Martin on July 5, 1918, Colonel S. L. Slover became its executive head. During his tenure of office, two branches were opened: the Campostella Branch, at Campostella Road and Springfield Avenue in 1924, and the South Norfolk Branch, Twenty-second and Liberty Avenue, in 1927.

Active in other business connections as well, Mr. Parkerson is treasurer and a director of the Chesapeake Building Association, and a director of the Security Insurance Agency, Inc. He is president and director of the South Norfolk Bridge Commission, a director of the Norfolk Chamber of Commerce, and a member of the Virginia State Chamber of Commerce, and as a bank executive, belongs to the Virginia Bankers Association and the American Bankers Association. In his own city he is a member of the Norfolk Executives Club, the Norfolk Yacht and Country Club, and Doric Lodge No. 44, Ancient Free and Accepted Masons. In Masonry he is a member of the higher bodies including the Ionic Chapter of Royal Arch Masons. In civic and philanthropic fields, he serves on the board of directors of the Central Young Men's Christian Association, as treasurer of the Norfolk area of the Virginia Society for Crippled Children, as a member of the lay board of the DePaul Hospital, and of the Pension Bureau of the city of Norfolk. He has been active in the Norfolk Community Chest fund campaigns; and during the World War II period, did outstanding work for the Norfolk War Finance Committee on behalf of the United States Treasury Department. A communicant of the Memorial Methodist Church of Berkley, he formerly served on its board of stewards and as treasurer.

On October 31, 1906, Jesse J. Parkerson married Emma Clark Markham of Elizabeth City, North Carolina, daughter of the late James C. and Emiline (Purdy) Markham, both of whom were born in North Carolina. Mr. and Mrs. Parkerson are the parents of one daughter, Lois, a graduate of Randolph-Macon College at Lynchburg, Virginia. She married William E. Warren of Norfolk. Mr. Warren is vice president and director of the Merchants and Planters Bank of Norfolk, and is in charge of its Lafayette Boulevard Branch. Mr. and Mrs. Warren are the parents of one daughter, Ann Parkerson Warren. Mr. and Mrs. Parkerson make their home at 944 Larchmont Crescent, Norfolk. [4]

-=-

Jesse J. Parkerson died November 21, 1959, at the age of 75.

I was discussing the new Jordan Bridge with my wife. We were looking for pictures when I came across this one and thought, "Hey! I know that guy" -- in a historical figure sense, of course. [5]

 

ENDNOTES:

[1] Woodstock's development can be broken down into 3 regions: north Woodstock, bordered by Walker Road, I-64 and the river was the first plot of Woodstock proper to have a residence. West Woodstock was not part of Edward Herbert's Woodstock, but was grafted in over time. East Woodstock, spoken of here, originally included the land between Woodstock Road and present day Rodney Lane, if Rodney Lane were extended from Providence Road to the river.
[2] The DeFrees family would keep their primary residence through the 1950's -- a dairy farm located at the historic Francis Land house on present-day Virginia Beach Blvd.
[3] Lot 17 was the exception, weighing in at about 43 acres. Frederick L. Hood purchased this land from Mr. Parkerson in May, 1942. The land was later purchased by Silas Harrison, brother of Walter Harrison (who lived on what is now the Woodstock Cove subdivision from 1934-1951). Silas' widow Mildred Harrison sold the land to developers in the mid-1960's, and it is now part of the Avalon Terrace subdivision.
[4] Wichard, Rogers Dey; History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, Vol. 3, p. 22 Lewis Historical Publishing Co. Inc., New York, NY 1959
[5] Photo source: http://www.cityofchesapeake.net/Assets/documents/departments/public_works/jordan-bridge-assessment/2008-08-19-Jordan-Bridge-photo-gallery.ppt?

 

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Burt and Della Hunter

Deed records form the backbone for much of the research found in these posts. But there is so much that a deed does not say: were these people good neighbors, well liked in the community? Were the grantors friends of the grantees, or family; or did the transaction take place between anonymous persons who never met?

I really enjoy finding connections that extend beyond mere real-estate transactions. I was gratified to learn that the Olivers, Harrisons and Steeles were not merely neighbors, but family [1]. I received similar good news when I met recently with sisters Debbie Yancey and Ruth Barrett to look through their old photo albums. Debbie and Ruth are daughters of Perry and Helen Kight and former Walker Road residents. Debbie contacted me after reading this blog to let me know that Burt and Della Hunter were her grandparents.

My first introduction to Burt and Della, beyond the 1941 deed for their property on the south side of Walker Road, was from my interview with Mary Anne Harrison Smith. Della was the neighborhood gossip who kept Mary Oliver from her chores; Burt was the Jack-Sprat-ly fellow who was falsely accused of leaving Della's undergarments on the clothes line (they had actually been pranked by the Harrison children). Thanks to Debbie and Ruth, I learned much more about Burt and Della; and they passed along some photos of Woodstock from the 1930's to the 1970's that I am pleased to share with you now.

In the 1930's Burt and Della Hunter were tenant farmers on the Perdue (later Walker) farm along what is now Sterling Road. When Jesse Parkerson purchased the 150 acres of woodland along the east side of Woodstock Road in 1940, he enlisted Burt Hunter to show the 4 and 8 acre parcels to potential buyers; identifying plots and pointing out property boundaries. In exchange for his services, Mr. Parkerson conveyed a 1 acre plot along the south side of Walker Road to Burt. As a result, Burt and Della became the first homeowners on the east side of Woodstock Road.

 

This house, located in what is now the front yard of 501 Sterling Road, was first made known to me as the Perdue home from the 1920's. Burt and Della occupied this home as tenants of the "Walker house" (as it came to be known) in the 1930's. That's Burt and Della's daughter, Helen Kight. That's the river on the other side of the house.

 

Della, tending chickens on the Walker farm, pre-1941. She is probably standing about where 512 Sterling Road is now, and we are looking southwest, toward where Sterling Court is today.

 

That barn is behind what is now 524 Sterling Road, in the east-bound lane of I-64. Burt and Della were the last tenants to farm the land along Sterling Road. Subsequent owners kept cows and horses until the mid-1960's.

 

The Hunters' new home after 1941, at the corner of Woodstock and Walker Roads. The house was of modest rural construction, with some of the roof joists still covered in tree bark. Bathroom facilities were outside. The house was torn down in the mid-1970's, and today that plot of ground is 5881 Walker Road.

I date this photo prior to 1945 because the Jimmy Steele house (now 568 Woodstock Road) doesn't appear to have been built yet. It should be on the other side of the car. The farm beyond is the Oliver farm at this time, or the 500 block of Woodstock Road today.

 

This is Helen "Snookie" Kight (elder sister of Debbie and Ruth, daughter of Perry and Helen Kight). If we take a guess at her age (I'll say 3?) then this picture is ca. 1946. That is the Jimmy Steele house to the right, and the former Oliver farm beyond. The Olivers (in their late-60's by this time) sold their farm the year before and bought Jimmy Steele's house.

 

 

Snookie again, with Woodstock Road behind her and the former Hastings farm on the other side of the road (E.V. Williams Construction owned it at the time this picture was taken; ca. 1958). During the E.V. Williams years, this property was used as a borrow pit and a trash dump. Today the land in view here is 613 Woodstock Road, Woodstock Cove Park, and a lake.

 

Walker Road, ca. 1970. Note the vehicle travelling on I-64 in the distance. The Kight house is on the right, occupying the eastern half of the Hunter property. The Kight house was demolished in 2011 and 4 brand new homes occupy that land today.

 

Neighbors: Mary and John Oliver, with John surrounded by his grandchildren, Mary Craddock (on his left) Joan Craddock (on his right) and an unidentified little one in front of him; The Olivers' daughter Elsie Craddock is front row left, with Burt and Della Hunter on the right. That structure in the background is the garage for the Jimmy Steele house, which still faces Walker road today.

 

--

ENDNOTES:[1] I may be making references that newer readers are not familiar with. For a good overview of Woodstock's history, including notable names and dates, see my PowerPoint presentation.

 

 

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Before There Was Kemps Landing School

Today I found the Sargeant Memorial Room at the Norfolk Public Library. If you read any books on local history, there is a very good chance that several of the photos will have "Courtesy of the Sargeant Memorial Collection" noted somewhere nearby. I asked about their Princess Anne County photo collection, and the guy at the desk pulled four file folders out of a drawer and handed them to me! I spent the next 30 minutes or so sifting through old photos.

One set of photos caught my eye immediately, because they answered a nagging question that has occupied my mind since my interview with Mary Ann Harrison Smith. She said she attended Kempsville Elementary during her grammar school years (1942-) and that the building had "real pretty white columns in front". I attended Kempsville Elementary in 1978 & 1979, and there were no "real pretty white columns!" I also knew that my Kempsville Elementary only dated back to the 1960's, so she couldn't be referring to that building. I knew Kemps Landing School was older, but Kemps Landing doesn't have real pretty white columns either.

The Virginia Beach Public Schools website has a short history of the old Kempsville Elementary and it seems to indicate that the building that eventually came to be known as Kemps Landing, built in 1941, was the original Kempsville Elementary. But what about the pretty white columns? Mary Ann did say that her old school was torn down; so did they tear down a previous school with white columns when they built Kemps Landing? But if that is the case, it would have been torn down before Mary Ann was old enough to attend.

This is when the Sargeant Memorial Collection clarified everything for me:

Photo courtesy of the Sargeant Memorial Collection

There is an inscription on the back of this photo, "Kempsville Grammar and High School; 10-7-31". YES! There are COLUMNS! In fact, there are two buildings here, side by side, and they both have columns. Which one is the grammar school? Which one is the high school? The photo doesn't specify.

Photo courtesy of the Sargeant Memorial Collection

This is a photo of the building on the far left in the first photo. This photo is inscribed, "Kempsville Grammar and High; 10-9-31". Not much clarification there, but I did notice something: take careful note of the windows on the left...

Photo courtesy of the Sargeant Memorial Collection

Here is the building we are all familiar with, because it still exists today. The photo is inscribed, "Kempsville High School; 5-14-42". My generation knows it as Kemps Landing (not the magnet school; before the magnet school); but whatever you call it, there it is. Now, please note the building to the right of the new high school: see the windows? It looks like they did not tear down the old schools when they built the new one.

This photo has been floating around the Internet for a couple of years now, but I saw it most recently in a Facebook post:

It is a postcard of Kempsville High School, but there is no date. I was always under the impression that the two buildings to the right were the old jail and a municipal building -- but it is crystal clear now that all three buildings are school buildings. The two buildings on the right are the buildings in the photographs above.

With just a little more research, I found this photo on the Virginia Beach Public Library website:

Now we know which building was the grammar school and which was the high school! The last graduating class was in 1941, and the doors opened at the new high school later that year.

For the record, the grammar school is the oldest building here, constructed in 1910. Both the grammar school and the old high school would be demolished prior to 1953 to make room for a one-story addition to the new building. That addition survived until very recently, when it was torn down to accommodate the re-routing of Princess Anne Road.

While on the subject of additions, I noticed one more thing while studying these photos. Those of us who have lived in Kempsville for any length of time know about the one-story addition to the Kempsville High/Kemps Landing building; but these photos show that was not the first addition that was made:

The wall that faces the grammar school is the northernmost edge of the building in this 1942 photo.

By the time this picture was taken (before 1953) a new wing has appeared on the northwest corner of the building. That addition is still there.

 

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Woodstock Road

If Woodstock Road isn't the oldest residential street in Kempsville, it certainly rates in the oldest 1% of residential streets in Kempsville; and possibly in all of Virginia Beach. I am making a distinction here between residential streets (roads that serve specific neighborhoods; Lord Dunmore Drive, Edwin Drive, Indian Lakes Blvd., etc.) and main roads (roads that interconnect municipalities like Norfolk, Kempsville or Great Bridge and are generally lined with businesses; Kempsville Road, Princess Anne Road, Indian River Road, etc.). I will grant that in Princess Anne County's rural years, farms lined the main roads; and even today Kempsville Road is lined with houses. But with the proliferation of suburban residential development beginning after World War II, and really gaining steam in the 1970's, Woodstock's 19th century origins set it apart from other Kempsville neighborhoods like Fairfield, Larkspur and Indian Lakes.

 

The Evidence

 

Plat of Woodstock, 1877. Note the road along the eastern border. This is not the present day Woodstock Road; in fact, this road no longer exists. The present day Woodstock Road is not depicted on this plat, which means it was probably constructed after 1877.

 

The first mention of the right-of-way that we now refer to as Woodstock Road occurs in the deed of sale between Samuel Kimberly and Pheby Richards in 1878. Mrs. Richards purchased a 65 acre riverfront plot from Kimberly; from present-day Walker Road north to the river, and from I-64 west to the creek. Her land was separated from the main road (Providence Road) by the rest of Kimberly's land to the southeast and the Whitehurst farm to the southwest. The construction of a new road between these two properties would be necessary to allow Mrs. Richards access to her purchase. The deed of sale grants "the said Kimberly ... the right of use of the road or lane running through the land of said Pheby D. Richards to the creek or river, and the said Samuel Kimberly agrees that the said P. D. Richards shall have the right of way to the main road 40 feet wide." (Princess Anne County deed book 54 page 227). A survey plat of Woodstock from 1877 does show a lane from the river to the main road, but it runs along the eastern border of Woodstock, not through Pheby Richards land; and so therefore cannot be the road spoken of here. In fact, Woodstock Road began in 1878 as Pheby Richard's driveway.

 

Plat of Woodstock Farm, 1914. This map runs north/south along the horizontal axis. Note how the road bends to the east shortly after entering the Chinn property.

 

Our next exhibit is a survey plat of Woodstock Farm from 1914 (Princess Anne County map book 8, page 76). The former Richards property is now under the ownership of young Cynthia Chinn, who has taken her neighbor to court for logging on her land. The 1914 plat which was entered as evidence in Cynthia Chinn v. Gimbert Brothers et. al., is both remarkably detailed and poorly preserved; but for our purposes it is legible where it needs to be. The plat shows the road that connects Woodstock Farm to the main road; but it is interesting to note that the road takes a noticeable eastward bend once it enters the farm, reaching the river closer to where Sterling Road does today.

In 1922, Woodstock Farm was purchased by John A. Anderson, who subdivided the property and sold the western 20+ acres to James Howe. A road provides an easy boundary for such purposes: but at this time the road probably still took an eastwardly bend, which would not have provided the boundary he was looking for. Anderson moved the road so that it continued in a straight line to the river, and then sold the land west of the road to Howe. In 1924 Anderson dedicated this new section of road for public use:

...a strip of land 40 feet wide, as would lie between the eastern and western sides of a certain road to the east of said W. Davis' land and marked on said plat "road," if prolonged or extended in the same straight line from the southern boundary of the property above described to the Eastern Branch of the Elizabeth River; which said strip of land 40 feet wide and extending from the southern to the northern boundary, of the said tract of land, the said grantors do nearby dedicate to the public, to and for their use as a public road. (Princess Anne County Deed Book 121, page 279; Emphasis added)

In 1940, Jesse Parkerson purchased the 150 acres of timberland to the east and south of Woodstock Farm, and subdivided it into multiple 4 and 8 acre lots along Woodstock and Providence Roads. Possibly anticipating the increased traffic, and possibly bending to the petitions of Annie Harrison, Princess Anne County purchased the road from each of the property owners along the right of way (Princess Anne County Deed Book 202, page 505) and then a short time later designated it Route 703, Woodstock Road.

Today, a drive along Woodstock Road gives one a vague sense of a rural past -- maybe because the road is a little narrower than it should be; maybe it's the lack of curbs along the eastern edge; maybe it's the utility poles. We do know this for sure: Woodstock developed gradually over more than a century, from Pheby Richards secluded 19th century farm house to the nearly 250 homes that exist today. As you take your next drive down Woodstock Road, remember that you're driving along the same ground Pheby Richards horse-drawn carriage did more than 130 years ago.

 

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Elizabeth Mae "Lizzie" Sawyer Walker

Lizzie M. Walker purchased 34 acres of land along what is now Sterling Road and I-64 from Junius T. Sheets back in 1917. She sold the property to brothers Robert and Samuel Perdue in 1921, but she re-aquired it in 1938 when Robert moved his family back home to Maryland. The private drive that served that property became Walker Road in the 1940's, and so the Walker name is now permanently etched into the Woodstock landscape.

By 1917, Lizzie was a busy mother to 6 young children, ranging in age from 4 years to 15 years old. Her Husband, Pealedge P. "Pete" Walker was a tugboat captain. There is some question as to whether or not the Walkers actually maintained a residence on this property, or if it was held as an investment. What is certain is that their primary residence was in Norfolk.

Lizzie's grandson James Walker sent me this photo. The date is uncertain; but if Mrs. Walker was born in 1885, and we assume she is in her early 20's in this photo, that would date the photo around 1905-1910.

There is one bit of historical-geographical irony here: James built one of the houses on Woodgrove Court in the early 1980's and lived there for more than 20 years, unaware that his grandparents at one time owned land just down the street.

 

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Henry Driskill -- The Mayor of Woodstock

George Henry Driskill was born May 15, 1900 and grew up just a few hours west, in Keysville, VA. He married his sweetheart Alice in his early 20's, and in his late 20's he moved to Norfolk to accept a job offer from the Ford Plant on Indian River Road. He and Alice rented a home on the river in the historic Oaklette neighborhood, but by the 1940's he wanted land of his own. In 1947 he purchased 8 acres of partly cleared, mostly wooded farm land on Providence Road in rural Kempsville, where spent his non-work hours bird hunting, then rabbit hunting, then drinking, then herding goats; all the while earning the admiration of his neighbors.

Henry retired from the Ford Plant in 1965; and by this time, Kempsville's transition from rural to residential was underway. I-64 construction would overtake his neighbor's property within the next couple of years; and by the late 1970's, most of the farm land around Henry's patch had given way to home construction.  Henry's neighbor Harry Davis donated part of his property on the other side of Providence Road to the city for the development of Woodstock Park. You can read some of Henry's thoughts on the changes in a Virginia Beach Beacon article from 1981 here -- page 1, page 2, page 3.

Henry Driskill died on May 23, 1988. His wife Alice died just a few years later, in December of 1991.   The Driskills had no children of their own, so the land was left to a good friend, a self-described "adopted grandson". Richard Spreder did the reasonable thing and sold the land for development, but he insisted that the new right-of-way that serviced the new homes be named in honor of Henry and Alice.

Henry and Alice, 1965. Henry is admiring his retirement present from the guys at the Ford Plant. I am told that one of their favorite married-couple activities was dynamiting tree stumps.

Before retiring, Henry purchased a car from the Ford Plant for Alice -- a 1964 Galaxy 500. He dubbed it "Miss Alice". It is in pristine condition, with just over 20K miles on it. It is currently under the care of the adopted grandson.

The Driskill residence on Old Providence Road, ca. 1980.  You can see "Miss Alice" in the garage.   The view from the overpass inspired Mr. Driskill to refer to his property as "Driskill Valley"

The same view from the same location in 2013. Trees have grown since then...

looking north, on the property line separating Driskill's property from Avalon Church of Christ.

Next door, neighbor Eloise Cesil's house was in the path of I-64 construction. Henry helped her move her home out of the construction zone and then provided a parcel of land for her to live on. When development began on Driskill Court, this house was moved to Pungo.

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An Interview With Mary Ann Harrison Smith

From 1937 to 1951, Mary Ann Harrison lived her formative childhood years on the Harrison family farm on Woodstock Road; on the land just north of what is now Woodstock Cove Park. Her grandparents, John and Mary Oliver, had a farm right across the street; and her cousin, Dorothy Johnson Steele lived with her husband Tommy Steele on what is now Pinehurst Point. I had the profound privilege of visiting with Mary Ann (now Smith) in her North Carolina home, learning about her family and neighbors during a time of world war. I am pleased to share the highlights of our conversation with you.

G: While researching your grandparents, John and Mary Oliver, I read that John Oliver was a minister. Is that correct?

M: At one time he was a Pentecostal minister, and he would take a train from South Norfolk to Plymouth and places to preach. He never had a church of his own.

G: Was he still in the ministry when he lived in Woodstock?

M: No, no. In fact he kinda lost out – I don’t know the reason – but he had a lot of things that really upset him. He didn’t even go to church for a long time until just before he died of Leukemia. He started going back before he died, and I’m sure he’s in heaven today. My grandmother was raised old-time Methodist. She was real quiet and never talked a lot – an immaculate housekeeper. We had an old cow named Betsy and she would go out every morning and milk that cow, and you know she was just a very country, old-timey country woman – never went out without a bonnet on her head.

John Oliver, with neighbor Burt Hunter. Photo courtesy of Debbie Yancey.

G: So was that an active, working farm that they lived on?

M: They didn’t make enough off of it, I’m sure, to make anything. When he first moved to Woodstock Road he had that first farm on the left [1], and that had more acreage. He had a beautiful house with a wrap-around porch – but I was quite young when he sold that to Sammy Hastings and moved down to the end of Woodstock Road [2]. That was not a farm that he made a lot of money on, but it had a great big barn on it that was full of pidgeons, and there was an old man by the name of Belford Armstrong that would come up and work the farm (I’ll tell you the story of Belford in a minute!). My grandfather worked at a produce place over in Norfolk. Back then Norfolk had a big farmer’s market and they had a lot of produce places around the waterfront. He was a very kind man who would give you the shirt off his back! That’s the way he was. He would get ice cream or something and then bring it home, or watermelon, and one toot would be “Watermelon! Come quick!” and two toots would be “I’ve got ice-cream! Come on over!” and we would run over to granddaddy’s house you know, and get treats! He was just a very loving grandfather.

G: Okay – so he had a daughter, Annie…

M: The oldest child was Charlie – Charlie Lewis Oliver. He lived in Norfolk and he was at one time a policeman, and then he started collecting money for some of the furniture stores when people didn’t pay their bills. And he, too, was very generous. Then they had Annie Mae, my mother; and she was the older daughter. Then they had Lilly. And then there was Leroy; he was in the military and he went overseas in World War II and the Germans shot him up real bad in the stomach. He came back and died of cirrhosis of the liver because he was shot, and they would operate on him without any anesthetic. And then the youngest child was Elsie Marie Craddock, but then he died and she became Elsie Marie Cunningham; and she passed away a few years ago, in ’06. She lived there on the place with granddaddy – he built her a place in the back. She finally moved back to Plymouth where she lived until she died. That was the youngest girl. They are all buried in Indian River cemetery on Indian River Road. What else can I tell you about the Olivers?

G: I was going to ask you about Leroy. Somebody from another Oliver line had written that he died in a car accident in 1946.

M: No, no, no – it wasn’t a car accident. He died from the results of injuries overseas. He died of cirrhosis of the liver here in a hospital over in Hampton. He was a very colorful character.

G: So how did Annie and Walter meet?

M: They met when they were living in Campostella. My daddy played an instrument – about any instrument you would put in his hands! He would play the mandolin to my mother, but my grandfather didn’t want him to marry my mother because he was a very short man in stature and he never thought that he would make a living for my mother; so he opposed them going together. But my dad would go out across the street and play love songs to my mother. Well, they eventually ran off and got married. And my dad made a very good living…

G: As a musician?

M: No – he went to school and he worked for the Ford Motor Company in the office.

G: Now this is the Ford Plant on Indian River Road?

M: It became a Navy base during World War II. There were rations, and we had to have little coupons to buy sugar and flower and meats and the Ford Motor Company always told the men (because when the Ford Plant would shut down they would be out of work for a week or two) to always have something on the side to do; so daddy had hogs. And then he went to work for a place called Barrett & Hilp. They built these little places over in Portsmouth for the Navy to use – little houses – and they found that my daddy was smart and knew how to work. So they took him over there and he worked for Barrett & Hilp until Ford Motor came back and the war ended. Then daddy went back to the Ford Motor Company and that’s where he was when he died, when he got killed.

G: Killed? I knew that he died in ’61, which seemed rather early.

M: We moved out to Ballahack Road and he had a big farm. He was never a farmer, but he rented his farm to local people that would farm it. He went out to help his neighbor get out of the ditch; so he took the tractor and pulled the guy out, and when he did, that thing tipped over and crushed him.

G: Did he rent out farm land on the Woodstock property also?

M: Well, he raised hogs, you see; and he would raise corn to feed the hogs, and he had a mule and a cow – Molly. Molly was my pet cow. Her mother got her horns hung in the manger and broke her neck. And we raised Molly with a bottle of milk. We’d get milk from my grandmother’s cow and feed Molly – we raised her like that.

Before I was born, my dad and mother lived on my granddaddy’s farm, where Sammy Hasting’s farm is; there was a little house way back in the field, and they lived in that house. My mother was a bookkeeper for R.C. Brown Credit Clothing store. They sold their business and moved to Mississippi, and then mother worked for the Post Office for a while. But they lived there, and then daddy found out about the Howe farm. You see Mr. Howe was killed by a black man – shot him through the living room window, and they shot him to rob him. But they caught the guy that shot him and they sent him to the electric chair for it. But that was how daddy bought the place. It wasn’t very much of a house when daddy bought it. And then in Campostella there was an old barge that went aground, and daddy asked them, “what are you going to do with that barge? It’s just sitting there doing nothing.” “Nah, we don’t want it.” “Well, do you care if I have the lumber and the beams? “ And they said “yea, take it!” So my dad would go down and take that barge apart, and haul the lumber and the beams (how he did it I don’t know, but he could do anything; he was smart) and he put all that stuff into the house. Steel beams were in the living room, you know, but then he covered them with wood so we had beams that went across. [3]

My daddy was real big in church (he belonged to the church of the Nazarene) and he had Sunday School class parties at the house. They would come out all the time and he would give freezes of ice cream and the yard was – he had it lighted so they could do horse shoes in the summer, and he had a ping pong table and all in the basement; so we always had a bunch of people there. And then when the Navy was there daddy would always tell the Navy boys “if you go to church with me on Sunday, I’ll feed you all Sunday when we come home.” And momma was a good cook and she would make these big meals and they would all come out – a bunch of them – about five or six at the time would go to church with him and then they would come homeand my sister, my older sister was a very good piano player, and she would playthe music and they would just sing! They had a good time.

Now you want me to tell you about Belford?

G: Please!

M: Alright.

G: Belford – B E L F

M: B E L F O R D, Belford Thomas Armstrong [4]. He was a black man that was dear to myheart. He did days work. He lived in a little place called New Light – have you heard of New Light? [5]

G: Yes.

M: Well he lived in a little place called New Light and he would come up – different ones would come up to ask if you have any days work; and if you had anything for him to do then he would work that particular job and you would pay him, and then, you know, that’s the way a lot of them worked. Well Belford got in trouble, and we couldn’t – we didn’t know what in the world happened to Belford? Jolly fella, just as nice as could be. Well, come to find out Belford had been with some of his friends and one of them was his cousin. This cousin and another guy were arguing that one owed the other money. Well, he took a crowbar and killed the guy...

G: BELFORD DID?!

M: No – not Belford – the cousin killed the guy, and then he hit Belford in the head and knocked him out. When they found him, the man was dead, the cousin was gone and Belford was there, and the crowbar, so he got pinned for it. And he was sent to the penitentiary for 15 years. Well, when my dad finally found out about it, he went to the authorities. He said, “I know that he did not do it – he’s not capable of killing anybody!” And daddy went through a lot of paperwork and investigating and he got Belford paroled to him. I was about 10 years old [6], maybe 9. And I remember when the police brought Belford to us – we went to Staunton, Virginia where he was, and talked with Belford. Belford said “yes Mister Walter, I sure would like to come live with you.” And daddy fixed a little apartment in the back of the garage; and he took his meals with us. And he would work on the farm and daddy would give him so much a week, and he also signed him up for social security so when he got older he would have social security. So daddy looked out for him. I can remember when the state troopers brought him to us I was scared to death. We were having a party at the house, and he was sitting in the dining room – just sitting there – and I was so afraid of him. And he said, “Girly?” (he always called me “girly”) “Girly, are you afraid of Belford?” And I knew he’d been in prison, and I said “yes”. He said, “You come here! You come here; this is old Belford.” He said, “You look at dem hands” (he had these old knotty fingers) “Not one a dem hands will hurt a hair on your head. You come here girly and touch me.” And I touched him, and from then on I was never afraid of him. I loved him. My sister and I followed him everywhere he went; all over that farm – when he would fix hog fences, we would just follow him. He never, ever said a dirty word in front of us; no dirty gestures, nothing. He was just the sweetest, kindest man. And if mother and daddy had to go out at night, he would come in and sit with us. And back then we had woods, and there would be a hoot owl. And the owl would just hoot and hoot, and we would be afraid of the owl. He said, “Now go get my left shoe...” (how he did this, I don’t know!) “go get my left shoe and bring it to me!” And we would go get it, and we would bring it, and he would say “now you turn that shoe over!” And we would turn it over, and he said “now you won’t hear that owl anymore.” And the owl would go away! Isn’t that amazing? That is amazing! And I often wondered, how did he do that, you know? (laughs) But, I mean, this is the kind of person Belford was. And he lived with us; and then after we left and went to Ballahack Road, he went down with us. And then when daddy was killed and mother eventually sold the farm we moved to Kempsville Road. After that we found out (I’d go over and check on him) people were stealing from him. I saw him out cutting greens, and he was old, and he said “they just take my money, they steal my food, and we have to cut greens” – and I said “oh, no you’re not!” So I fixed a place for him when I lived on Kempsville Road and he stayed with us until about when he died. If anybody died, he went to the funerals of our family. He went to the weddings. Wherever we went he was just one of us, and I loved him just like he was a relative.

G: Let me get one clarification: did he actually serve 15 years in prison?

M: He didn’t serve 15 years – it was a sentence, but daddy got him out on early release. He was what they call a trustee, and he was working in the kitchen when we went to see him.

G: Any idea how long he was in for?

M: He was in for 15 years, but I don’t know how long he stayed in there. I would say maybe 3, 4 years? Maybe 5? I don’t know.

G: Did he ever marry, and have a family?

M: He was married when he got in trouble, and he had a family. He was married to a woman by the name of Annie, and she lived in New Light. He had a daughter named Estelle, he had a son named Roosevelt, he had another son named Milton, and Milton lived in Florida, I believe. And there was another girl; I think her name was Alma, but I’m not real sure. And then he took up with this girl when he was living at our place, name of Mary. We never knew where Mary came from. She was – something wrong with her head. She told us that the boys had beat her in the head with a drink bottle and she was all bloody, and evidently it did something to her brain. The only thing she could say was “uh huh, yea, no sir." And he was living with Mary when she died. I don’t know Mary’s last name. We think it was Harper, but we were not sure.

And that was the story of Belford. His son would come out and see us once-in-a-while. Roosevelt worked for the Post Office. He lived in Portsmouth, and his wife’s name was Jean; they had a son named Tyrone – and they would come out to see Belford, but the others did not.

Now what else you need?

G: Well, let me move down the line here. Was the area called “Woodstock” then?

M: It was just Woodstock Road. It was country, and it was no particular area. See we were Princess Anne County, we were not Virginia Beach. “Where’d you live?" "Woodstock Road.” People knew where it was.

G: Was it a dirt road at that time?

M: Dirt road, it was dirt. And we had to walk out to Providence Road to catch the school bus. In fact, the road would get so muddy sometimes, you would put the car wheels in the rut and it was just like a railroad track – it would take you right on in to where you were going, it was so muddy. Mother got a petition up and had them pave the road, and had the school bus brought down the road. But I was a big girl when that happened; I probably was in the third, fourth grade.

G: So it was paved during your time there?

M: It was paved most of the time; rock and tar. When we walked that road there was a family lived there by the name of Yoder – they were Mennonite people. They lived about half-way up Woodstock Road and they had a black Chow dog, and he would chase us, and we would have to – we’d stop and look to see if we could see that dog and then we’d run past their house or ride our bicycles past their house, hoping he wouldn’t see us!(Laughs)

And Jimmy Steele [7] lived next door to them for a while. He built a little small shack of a place, and then after that he moved to Indian River Road. He lived next door to the Yoders for a while because he sold his place to my grandfather.

G: So after he left that little white house, he still lived in Woodstock, just in a different…

M: in a different place, next door to the Yoders. My grandfather sold his place to Mayo [8], and he moved out to Holland Road and he bought a farm out there; but he was never happy. Right after he moved there, he went hunting with some friends from Plymouth (he loved to hunt), and he got lost in the woods – stayed gone for several days. And they got the Army out looking for him –the Army Reserves, and they finally found him, and he got real sick after that. And right after that he moved back and that’s when he bought Jimmy’s place. He had sold Jimmy the property [9], and then he moved back to that house that Jimmy had built, and that’s where he was living when he died.

G: Jimmy only lived there for about a year?

M: He didn’t live there very long, 'cause granddaddy didn’t live down on Holland Road very long. After he got lost in the woods, and came back and he found out Jimmy was going to sell; he said, “Jimmy, I’ll buy that place from you.” And that’s when he bought it.

G: That white house is still there, by the way.

M: Is it really?

G: Probably one of the only houses from that era, from the 40’s anyway, that’s still there.

M: Is that right? Well right in front of that house was daddy’s hog lot, where he would feed the hogs, in the woods back in there. I haven’t been back there so I don’t know what they’ve done.

G: It’s a residential neighborhood now.

M: I can imagine! But that’s where they fed the hogs. My dad had a big garden area there, and then on the right hand side he had the hogs,and then from there on out was a big field where we had corn and things like that. He would fence in all that property and then just let the hogs roam, you know, all around that area, on his property.

G: So why did your family leave and move to Ballahack Road?

M: After my granddaddy and grandmother died, mother wasn’t happy there. Daddy said “there’s a guy at the plant” (he said his name was Warren) “they’re wanting to sell their place; and I think I’m going to go look at it, and see if we can buy it.” And so that’s when he put his place up for sale and moved out to Ballahack Road. I was very disappointed that he sold it because I loved it there. It was a beautiful yard; we had huge oaktrees, and as you came in our lane there was a huge oak tree, and then on down he had a plum tree that was always loaded; peaches, apples, and we had a circle driveway in the front yard that you could put flowers in. And then we had a big pine tree that wasfull of guineas, and every time somebody would come up in the yard those guineas would yack! And in the back I had big oak trees, I had a swing; oh, it was just a beautiful place, beautiful yard – daddy had the barn over to the left of the house. There’s a house on Battlefield Blvd. when you turn on Centerville Turnpike, off of Battlefield Blvd. you turn coming from our house here [in NC] and you turn on Centerville Turnpike and you go around the bend, there’s a house sitting there that looked just like the house that I was raised in – had a rail around the end porch, big columns; it was a beautiful place. I’m just so sorry that daddy sold it. But then we got out to Ballahack and then that house burned down! We lost all of our pictures, and everything.

G: Where did you attend school?

M: Kempsville. Kempsville Elementary [10]. And the high-school was there too – Kempsville High School. And we were called “Blue Devils” – they don’t call them that anymore. Why they got that name, I don’t know! But the elementary school was beautiful; had real pretty white columns in the front steps, it was beautiful. It had wooden floors, and they oiled them. Our cafeteria was way back in an old wooden house, and you could go along and pickup Yoder Dairy’s milk; and you could buy a little bottle of chocolate milk –it was so delicious, but you can’t buy that anymore. But that’s where we ate, in that little green building. They wouldn’t allow us to do stuff like that today! (laughs)

G: Where did you go to buy things? Where were the principal areas of commerce?

M: We would go to downtown Norfolk – we didn’t have anyshopping centers.

G: So you had to go all the way down...

M: …all the way to downtown Norfolk. Put a dime in the meter, or a nickel in a meter, and that’s how we shopped. We had a Rice’s, and a Smith & Weltons, Cluskey’s; we had Woolworths dime store, we had – a lot of the stores are out of business now, there on Granby Street.

G: So there were no commercial areas to speak of around Woodstock?

M: No, no. In fact, this is funny – when you go out of Woodstock Road, turn right on Providence, and then right back on Indian River Road, there was a little country store there; and we would hook up the mule and cart (we were kids, you know) and go out to that little store and buy nickel candy bars. Nickel, no tax: a nickel for a Pepsi, you know, and ride to that country store and then come back (and that was Sam, our mule). And I would beg daddy to hook him up; “You all hook him up! I’ve got too much to do!” And I remember trying to hook him up; I’d catch him and hook him up to the cart, and I didn’t hook him up right and I’d holler “whoa mule!” and the cart would keep going and bump him in the back and then he would keep – he walked and I’d holler “whoa mule!” and the cart would keep – I didn’t have it right; and finally they came out and hooked it up – Belford did it, came out and hooked it up for me.

G: He didn’t want you to kill yourself!

M: No! I know, but that’s – he was a good old mule.

G: How about entertainment? What did you do for fun?

M: We went to church a lot, and we’d go on church picnics, and church outings, and we played games. We had horse shoes, daddy built us a merry-go-round and we’d get on and swing around, we had swings, I had books – I loved to read! And I would read books – a dill pickle and a book, or a swing. And you know, we played parlor games back then – Rook, and – I wasn’t allowed to play with playing cards – now what’s the difference? Daddy was very strict; no drinking, no smoking, no saying bad words.

G: Did you say you were from a Nazarene background?

M: Yes.

G: What church did you attend?

M: We went to a church in Berkley – they’ve torn the church down. My dad, every time that church door was open, he was there. And see, he was a good musician. He could play anything you would put in his hands. And my sisters played the piano and organ; they were very, very good. We all took music, but it didn’t take with me for some reason, you know? But they could play. My sister Doris, she’s played at the Scope! If anybody came to town that needed somebody that could transpose music or whatever, they would always call Doris. And Doris, she could look at a piece of music in one key and play it in another. You know, that has to be a talent. It has to be a talent.

G: Did you spend much time in the river?

M: Yea, we did. We’d go out in the river. I’d go out with mygranddaddy. He liked to fish, and we went out in a row boat. Sometimes we would have to fight off a snake, and my sister Doris would take the oar and hit him – isn’t that crazy?

G: Well, it’s a river!

M: We were crazy! And we’d get in the rowboat and go out, you know. She was spunky – she would do anything!

G: Tell me about some of the other people who lived on Woodstock Road.

M: Burt and Della Hunter. She was as wide as she was tall! And he was as skinny, like Jack Sprat. They had a daughter named Helen, and they lived right across from our grandmother [11]. She would come outside and decide which direction she wanted to go, and she was the neighborhood gossip. And she would look both directions, and my grandma didn’t like her to come because it would tie her down so she couldn’t get her work done. And Mrs. Hunter would get on the piano and play “You Are My Sunshine.” She couldn’t play very many pieces, but that was one she used to play. They had a washing machine that he made; and you put your clothes in a tub of water and you would stand there and do it like this and that would wash his clothes! A hand-operated washing machine. They just had that little place, and they didn’t even have a bathroom in their house – they had an outhouse. And she didn’t like thunder and lightning. You could say, “watch out now for thunder and lightning!” – and you’d see Ms. Della, she was going to go run for that bathroom! We had a place in South Norfolk called Modern Laundry (my aunt owned it) and sometimes we would send our clothes to the laundry because mother worked some when I was little. And they would bring them back, and one time we got back some clothes that were not ours – it was these HUGE underpants and we – my sister Doris was a prankster – she says “I’m gonna go hang them on Ms. Della’s line!” So she did! She went over there and hung them up on Ms. Della’s line and Ms. Della came out and she hollered, “Burt! You forgot to bring in my drawers!” (laughs!) And she fussed at him, but they weren’t her drawers.

Della Hunter, Mary Oliver. Photo courtesy of Debbie Yancey.

Down where the Hunters lived there were a lot of little houses, just small bungalow types, and there was a family named Yeates [12], one named Ford [13], then the Yoders [14], and the Davis’ that lived down on the left [15]; and then there was a Harry Davis that was no relation to the Davis’ on Woodstock Road. But Harry Davis lived at the very end of Woodstock Road [16], and his mother’s name was Ida – Ida Davis. She died when she was about, almost a hundred years old. But she drove an old Model T Ford, and she was going down Indian River Road and got to that bridge, the Campostella Bridge, Norfolk Highlands, and went off the road! He wouldn’t let her drive anymore after that. But he lived there with his mother, and his wife didn’t – couldn’t get along with his wife – her name was Lucille, and she took off. He was in politics. They lived there and we loved him to death. We’d go in the yard and he’d rake leaves, you know; and he’d hide us in the leaves, and we’d hide and he’d look for us, you know, just a nice, jolly man, oh just so nice. And Ms. Ida. They had an old dog named Major; he was a Great Dane. And if we had to use a telephone, or anything like that, we would always go to their house to use a telephone because we didn’t have telephones back then – no telephones, nothing! Nothing! (laughs) And we’d have to walk down there to catch the school bus and we’d catch the school bus right at his driveway. And then sometimes if we’d ride bicycles we’d park right there inside of his yard, behind the hedge.

G: The Steeles?

M: Their house was next to the marsh. Dorothy had crippling arthritis all of her life, right after Carolyn was born. She had Marie Strumpell disease, I think that’s what they called it. When she was living with us, Doris would play ragtime and she would do the rubber foot, dancing – they were always cutting up! They got married, and in fact Tommy was boarding at our house when he came from West Virginia, and daddy got him a job at the Ford Plant, and he didn’t work there very long – he went out on his own. And then he of course met Teenie there, and I was only about three, but I can remember because I loved Tommy! And they would say “Teenie is going to marry Tommy” and I’d say “Nah! I’m going to marry him!” I didn’t know what married was, I was three years old, you know! (laughs) He died about a year-and-a-half ago. He was living with his daughter. Wonderful man. Christian man. I mean, everybody needs to be like Tommy – never raised his voice, never got mad about anything.

I used to walk over to see Tommy's mother every day when I was little. And I would hide, you know, under the bed and she said, “Punkin” (I was called “Punkin” when I was little) “Punkin, where are you? Have you gone home? Oh me, you’ve gone home.” And I’d be hiding under the bed...

G: and she knew you were there!

M: ...and she would pretend like she was looking for me! Sweetest lady, oh my goodness. She could rock me, and you could just cuddle up to her, and I just loved her. We called her mom, mom Steele. Sweet Christian lady, I know she’s with the Lord; just the most wonderful person, good disposition.

ENDNOTES

1. From 1931-1938 John and Mary Oliver owned 56 acres between what is now Woodhaven Court and New Song Fellowship Church. Most of that farmland was used as a borrow pit during I-64 construction in the early 1960's, and is now a man-made lake.

2. In 1938 the Olivers relocated just a short distance north on Woodstock Road, across the street from the Harrisons. Their farm was bordered by the river to the north, Walker Road to the south, the Walker Farm to the east (now Sterling Road, approximately) and Woodstock Road to the west.

3. The Howe/Harrison house, located on the property of what is now 5912 Woodgrove Lane, was destroyed in a fire in January, 1986.

4. Belford Thomas Armstrong, born January 1, 1894; died January, 1982.

5. New Light is located on Indian River Road between Lake James and Centerville Tpk.

6. ca. 1947

7. James Steele was the older brother of Tommy Steele, and the brother-in-law of Dorothy Johnson Steele.

8. September, 1944

9. The Olivers sold a half-acre lot at the south end of their farm (the corner of Woodstock and Walker Road) to Jimmy in August of 1944

10. Check out my follow-up article on Kempsville schools

 

11. The Hunters received the 1 acre lot on the south side of Walker Road in May, 1941 from Jesse Parkerson in exchange for services rendered.

12. Property at 604-612 Woodstock Road. The house no longer exists.

13. Property at 614-618 Woodstock Road. The house no longer exists.

14. Property at 712-722 Woodstock Road. The Yoders were a presence on Woodstock Road until the mid-1990's.

15. Property at 764-782 Woodstock Road.

16. For more than a century, the Davis family owned a farm between Indian River and Providence Roads, on the land now occupied by Woodstock Park, Providence Park, and the Park-and-Ride. For more info on Harry Davis, go here.

 

 

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