Thanks to some polite correspondence from Laurel Street neighbor, Charles Pool, the Times Dispatch kindly made this correction to their earlier story on the history of the Virginia War Memorial.
The Virginia War Memorial lies on the eastern side of Oregon Hill. A Feb. 24 story on Page A1 about the memorial’s 60th anniversary incorrectly described its location.
The Times Dispatch ran an article this morning on the 60th anniversary of the Virginia War Memorial. Unfortunately, it lacks acknowledgement of the historical fact that many Oregon Hill homes were demolished to build the War Memorial.
Instead the article begins with this: “In 1953, the hill overlooking the James River along Belvidere Street was home to a couple of small buildings and a billboard for Purelube motor oil.” The article later describes the site as being atop Gambles Hill rather than Oregon Hill: “But for decades, the memorial often stood vacant atop Gambles Hill …”
The reality is that the Va. War Memorial is sited on Oregon HIll where many homes were demolished to make way for the memorial.
From the http://www.nps.gov/nr/travel/richmond/oregonhillhd.html”>National Parks Service website, regarding the Oregon Hill Historic District:
“In 1847, the Harvie Family platted their property east of Belvidere and south of the penitentiary as the Oregon Hill subdivision. The community’s name came from the witty geographic observation that a pedestrian excursion trip from the center of Richmond to Oregon Hill seemed the equivalent of a trip to Oregon by the standards of the day. The original portion of Oregon Hill consisted of modest houses east of Belvidere and south of Spring Street. Its early occupants were a mixture of white and African American laborers and artisans. This area, just outside the boundary of the district, was demolished to construct the Virginia War Memorial and state office buildings.”
From press release:
The Oregon Hill Home Improvement Council, (OHHIC) a neighborhood membership organization whose mission includes historical preservation, is presenting an author’s talk about historic Tredegar Iron Works on Wednesday, February 24th at 6:30 pm. Local historian Nathan Vernon Madison, a graduate of the University of Mary Washington (BA) and Virginia Commonwealth University (MA), will present and discuss his recently released book, Tredegar Iron Works. His account utilizes a wealth of primary sources and firsthand accounts to chronicle the full history of the Richmond industrial icon. The Oregon Hill neighborhood was built and occupied by many of the foundry’s workers and therefore has a special connection to this history. This author’s talk is co-hosted by St. Andrew’s Church and will take place in their chapel at 236 S. Laurel Street. After the presentation Mr. Madison will be available to sign books. A small reception will follow the talk next door at the St. Andrew’s Parish House. This event is free and open to the public, however seating will be limited and RSVP’s are appreciated.
Related links:
St Andrew’s Church
Richmond Magazine article on Mr. Madison and Tredegar Iron Works
Amazon.com author’s profile
(photo courtesy of William Pickett)
Before the “North Bank Trail“, this is a photo taken from Hollywood Cemetery, looking up the James River and Kanawha Canal.
William Pickett supplied these photos of when the bulldozers took down his neighbors’ houses on the 700 block of S. Laurel.
Harry Kollatz Jr’s most recent column informs of new attention to Grace Arents’ legacy from local librarian and writer Wendy DeGroat. A New Jersey transplant, DeGroat was inspired by a previous 2009 Kollatz feature on Grace Arents called The Invisible Philanthropist.
Kollatz excerpt:
Segue to 2015, and DeGroat is composing a group of 20 to 30 “documentary poems” under the title “What Doesn’t Burn.” The title is imbued with meanings: DeGroat like researchers before her, is left with scant material about Arents who, like her wealthy uncle Lewis Ginter and others of their time, ordered the destruction of her personal papers. What somehow didn’t burn were a commonplace book and two travel journals. In constructing the poems, to give herself Arents’ voice, DeGroat charted the frequency and choice of words and broke them into their proper categories, whether noun, verb and so forth. To frame the poems, she created letters that Grace could have written to her younger sister, Minnie, in New York City.
But, DeGroat points out, what also doesn’t burn is what one gives away, whether energy or material. It is a particular poignant observation, giving that the William Byrd Community House, a direct portion of Arents’ legacy – which withstood economic depressions and many variations of the monetary climate – closed this year.
She’s found in Arents not a schoolteacher spinster, as she’s perceived, but an independent woman who at age 49, through inheritance of the Ginter fortune, became a person of means, too. Arents chose to exercise her will by making her part of the world a better place and doing so in a way that didn’t attract undue attention to herself. Arents’ humble nature seems to have come through either example or genetics of her Uncle Lewis. The tobacco magnate who bankrolled the construction of the Jefferson Hotel ordered that his name not be seen anywhere in the building. This kind modesty isn’t exemplified by latter-day tycoons.
Well, I apologize for failing to give prior notice on this, but local historian Nathan Madison just gave a great talk this very afternoon on the subject of his new book, Tredegar Iron Works: Richmond’s Foundry on the James, at…Tredegar Iron Works, of course (or as the Welsh pronounce it, “Treediger” Iron Works).
Richmond Magazine recently profiled Madison and his new book.
A fundamental portion of the overarching story are the families whose associations to Tredegar went on, in some cases, for generations, almost from beginning to end. “What I kept seeing in the employee ledgers were the same names, Anderson, Archer, Delaney, Glasgow, Harris, Krengel, Osterbind, for years and years, on and on. And it’s not just the management level, but the men of the shop whose kids marry Tredegar kids, and so it was quite like a big family.”
…
The endurance and resilience of the company against man-made and natural disasters impressed Madison. “How they kept operating, using hydro-power and not fully ever converting to electricity, and on antiquated equipment, is kind of amazing.” The company’s men worked hard and sometimes suffered and died from industrial accidents. But their families persevered. Tredegar survived, but not quite long enough to become what in today’s view would be a “niche” manufacturer. But until the very end, what made money for Tredegar was rail spikes and clamps.
At his presentation today, Madison covered the plant history very well and included many good profiles of the figures involved with it (despite multiple interruptions by the automated museum videos). Afterwards, Madison graciously answered questions and shared some of his research insights.
(With all of the Tredegar connections to the Oregon Hill, it is absolutely imperative that the Oregon Hill Home Improvement Council sponsor a talk and book-signing in the neighborhood in the new year!)
This photo is before the historic John Miller house went under extensive renovation. Holly Street Playground is in the background. Photo published with permission from Richard Lee Bland.
