When Charlottesville made plans to build an all-white high school in 1940, Charlottesville resident Ed Jackson's home was demolished and he and his family were displaced for the first time.
Jackson, 77, was born on Pearl Street, the street across from Preston Avenue's Bodo's Bagel shop, where the County Office building now stands. But before it was the County Office building, the three-story structure was home to Lane High School to the east of the then-all-black Jefferson School.
Jackson and his family moved to 204 6th Street and lived there for 30 years. His father ran a successful bill posting business but again, the family's 6th Street home was bought out - this time to make way for the construction of City Hall. Jackson's family then was forced to move for the second time.
"My family was always in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said.
Jackson's story, however, is not the only story of displacement in Charlottesville.
In the 1960s, under the rubric of urban renewal, over 100 mostly black Charlottesville families, several businesses and two churches were uprooted to make way for bulldozers and a more modern, streamlined landscape.
The community, which was demolished in the 1960s, is bordered by Main Street to the south, Preston Avenue to the north and 4th Street to the west. The Vinegar Hill neighborhood was a community in the central part of town - a place where black families settled after Emancipation and stayed to call home.
The desire to memorialize this neighborhood, one of Charlottesville's oldest, has fueled a project to preserve the neighborhood's rich history.
"Vinegar Hill," a new play written by Charlottesville native Teresa Dowell-Vest and directed by University Drama Prof. Ishmail Conway, hopes to venerate the neighborhood - and its people's deep past.
"The story of Vinegar Hill is a story of Irish immigrants and also African-American life there and how it intermingled as a matter of love and a matter of culture," said Conway, who also is director of the Upward Bound program.
The play, which will be performed at Charlottesville's Live Arts from May 5 to 20, is a dramatic interpretation of monologues collected and recorded by Dowell-Vest and a group of Charlottesville high school students. Conway and Dowell-Vest said they are trying to do "a good day of black theater" but also are exploring one of the main themes of the time period: trying to find a home.
"Vinegar Hill to me, in my young days, was a thriving place," Jackson said. "There were restaurants, a pool hall, barber shops and a very nice drug store - but that was short-lived because it was too nice to keep itself afloat - shoe shops and two or three cleaning and tailoring shops."
Despite the close-knit community and the popular businesses, Vinegar Hill had its share of problems. Running water, indoor plumbing and electricity were a far cry from reality for most of the families in the neighborhood. Most houses were rented, and though there were a few homeowners, the area lent itself to socio-economic problems associated with poverty.
"Some of the places on Vinegar Hill were looked down upon 'cause that's where all the swingin' was going on," Jackson said. He said some of these places were homes to "vices" like drinking, gambling and "shooting a little craps." Jackson said these were the types of places his parents warned him about.
"You know how parents are," he said.
In 1960, the city's solution to Vinegar Hill's low-quality housing was to level the neighborhood and give its residents the option of moving into the Westhaven housing projects, the first and largest housing project in Charlottesville.
In June 1960, the decision to bulldoze Vinegar Hill was put before Charlottesville voters in the form of a referendum. The controversial move passed by only 34 votes - 1,105 to 1,069.
Families and merchants were compensated for their losses, but "there's no way to measure taking one's business and there's no way to measure taking a fella's livelihood," Jackson said.
For nearly 20 years after the bulldozers, the land that was once home to nearly 600 individuals and 130 buildings was barely developed. Vinegar Hill was a triangle of orange mud, angering those who had moved out in such a hurry.
"It wasn't a single development, it was more piecemeal. Much of the land was underdeveloped until '75," said Rich Collins, chairman of the Charlottesville redevelopment and housing authority from 1974-1979.
"It was easy to tear things down but it was quite another thing to get businesses to reinvest" in the area, Collins said.
But Jackson explained that the underdevelopment still angered citizens.
"The big thing - and justly so - they were disenchanted by taking the property and letting it sit there. After they took it, it wasn't taking in tax dollars," he said. "They just let it sit and sit and sit."
In 1985, the upscale Omni Hotel, a major part of the Vinegar Hill renewal project, opened its doors for business. There were few physical reminders of the once-vibrant neighborhood, but new landmarks like the Vinegar Hill Theater and the Vinegar Hill Grill took on the neighborhood's name and kept it alive.
Vinegar Hill's name is a story itself.
Vinegar Hill first was settled by Irish immigrants, fresh from the perils of the 1847 Potato Famine in which the small island nation lost half its population to either death or emigration. The Irish, who came to the U.S. and followed the building of the railroads, settled in Vinegar Hill because of its proximity to the Charlottesville train tracks.
There are many ideas about how the area was first named. One is that it took its name from the Battle of Vinegar Hill - the famous battle of the Wexford Rebellion of 1798, Ireland's first struggle for independence from England.
Another story dictates that there was a vinegar distillery on the hill, the acrid smell permeating the neighborhood, giving the area an appropriate name.
The neighborhood also is rumored to have been the site of bootleg liquor brewing. The brew was supposedly placed in barrels marked "Vinegar," another possible explanation for the name.
Alicia Lugo, a long-time Charlottesville resident and community activist, grew up three miles outside Vinegar Hill. Her father owned a barbershop there and she was a frequent visitor.
She was a young girl when Vinegar Hill was in its prime, and looking at old pictures of the neighborhood "it brings a real knot in my throat - a lump," she said.
"I remember the smells and the sights and the sounds of Vinegar Hill," she added. "I remember little girls dressed in white dresses, white socks with frilly trim, patent leather shoes ... all going to church on Sundays."
She said she did not want to idealize the neighborhood, as it did have its own problems.
"As a community, there may not have been much, but there was pride," Lugo said. "There wasn't a stigma attached to being poor."
She recognized that, although many families in the Vinegar Hill community did not have running water or electricity, the city should have thought of an alternative to demolition.
"If you're in the heart of town, why wasn't there running water and electric lights?" she said. "I think the idea of chickens and pigs in the center of the city really rubbed people the wrong way."
Vinegar Hill connected the University to downtown Charlottesville and so visitors to the University or to the city would inevitably pass through the neighborhood. With important figures visiting the University, people began to be concerned with the eyesore that was Vinegar Hill.
Former University historian Chick Moran, who has lived in Charlottesville all his life, remembers the city when fire engines were drawn by horses and The Daily Progress cost a penny. At 87, Moran remembers the businesses and the community in the Vinegar Hill neighborhood but also remembers the poverty.
Moran especially recalled Malcolm Sutherland of the Charlottesville Unitarian Church giving a presentation about the state of Vinegar Hill, showing that most of the city's socio-economic and health problems - crime, sanitation issues, venereal disease - were centered in the neighborhood and that something needed to be done.
This was soon after the United States had emerged from World War II and men were returning to Charlottesville, eager to make civic improvements.
"It was because these young men had been out risking their lives that they wanted to go out and change things," Moran said, noting the good intentions of those who wanted to change the face of Vinegar Hill.
After the decision went into effect, those in the community who could afford to buy a house elsewhere moved to other parts of the city, but those of lesser means had no choice but to go to Westhaven.
"They were told, in essence, 'you can fight it, but we have more money than you'," Lugo said. "I don't think there was a conscious concern about what people think. In essence, I don't think they gave a damn."
Many Charlottesville residents still remember other historic areas of the city that have been torn down as the area has undergone urban renewal. The lot behind West Main Street's Mel's Café, for example, is rumored to be the old site of the first hospital in Charlottesville. Civil War soldiers were said to have been treated there.
"I think the city of Charlottesville tore it down before they realized it," said 60-year-old Francis Gibson, who owns the property on which Mel's now stands.
Although there are few physical reminders of the Vinegar Hill neighborhood, Dowell-Vest and Conway's theatrical production hopes to keep at least the memory from crumbling.
Gibson remembers the popular nightlife on Vinegar Hill during the 50s.
"On Friday and Saturday nights, there were big crowds out there," he said, recalling the popular style of wearing leather jackets and coon skin caps."
Dowell-Vest and a group of Charlottesville High School students.
"What started out as a labor of love turned into a more organized and premeditated piece of work," said Dowell-Vest, who can trace her mother's side of the family back to slavery in Nelson County. Dowell-Vest also is the project director for the African-American heritage trails of Virginia.
Conway described the historic monologues as fused with dramatic fantasy while staying true to the actual events.
"You take a moment in history and you reshape it and redefine it so people can see it, hear it and in some cases, even taste it," he said.
Conway and Dowell-Vest said they are trying to do "a good day of black theater" but also are exploring one of the main themes of the time period: trying to find a home.
"Vinegar Hill to me, in my young days, was a thriving place," Jackson said. "There were restaurants, a pool hall, barber shops and a very nice drug store - but that was short-lived because it was too nice to keep itself afloat - shoe shops and two or three cleaning and tailoring shops."
Despite the close-knit community and the popular businesses, Vinegar Hill had its share of problems. Running water, indoor plumbing and electricity were a far cry from reality for most of the families in the neighborhood. Most houses were rented, and though there were a few homeowners, the area lent itself to socio-economic problems associated with poverty.
"Some of the places on Vinegar Hill were looked down upon 'cause that's where all the swingin' was going on," Jackson said. He said some of these places were homes to "vices" like drinking, gambling and "shooting a little craps." Jackson said these were the types of places his parents warned him about.
"You know how parents are," he said.
In 1960, the city's solution to Vinegar Hill's low-quality housing was to level the neighborhood and give its residents the option of moving into the Westhaven housing projects, the first and largest housing project in Charlottesville.
In June 1960, the decision to bulldoze Vinegar Hill was put before Charlottesville voters in the form of a referendum. The controversial move passed by 36 votes - 1,105 to 1,069.
Families and merchants were compensated for their losses, but "there's no way to measure taking one's business and there's no way to measure taking a fella's livelihood," Jackson said.
For nearly 20 years after the bulldozers, the land that was once home to nearly 600 individuals and 130 buildings was barely developed. Vinegar Hill was a triangle of orange mud, angering those who had moved out in such a hurry.
"It wasn't a single development, it was more piecemeal. Much of the land was underdeveloped until '75," said Rich Collins, chairman of the Charlottesville redevelopment and housing authority from 1974-1979.
"It was easy to tear things down but it was quite another thing to get businesses to reinvest" in the area, Collins said.
But Jackson explained that the underdevelopment still angered citizens.
"The big thing - and justly so - [was] they were disenchanted by taking the property and letting it sit there. After they took it, it wasn't taking in tax dollars," he said. "They just let it sit and sit and sit."
In 1985, the upscale Omni Hotel, a major part of the Vinegar Hill renewal project, opened its doors for business. There were few physical reminders of the once-vibrant neighborhood, but new landmarks like the Vinegar Hill Theater and the Vinegar Hill Grill took on the neighborhood's name and kept it alive.
Vinegar Hill's name is a story itself.
Vinegar Hill first was settled by Irish immigrants, fresh from the perils of the 1847 Potato Famine in which the small island nation lost half its population to either death or emigration. The Irish, who came to the U.S. and followed the building of the railroads, settled in Vinegar Hill because of its proximity to the Charlottesville train tracks.
There are many ideas about how the area was first named. One is that it took its name from the Battle of Vinegar Hill - the famous battle of the Wexford Rebellion of 1798, Ireland's first struggle for independence from England.
Another story dictates that there was a vinegar distillery on the hill, the acrid smell permeating the neighborhood, giving the area an appropriate name.
The neighborhood also is rumored to have been the site of bootleg liquor brewing. The brew was supposedly placed in barrels marked "Vinegar," another possible explanation for the name.
Alicia Lugo, a long-time Charlottesville resident and community activist, grew up three miles outside Vinegar Hill. Her father owned a barbershop there and she was a frequent visitor.
She was a young girl when Vinegar Hill was in its prime, and looking at old pictures of the neighborhood "it brings a real knot in my throat - a lump," she said.
"I remember the smells and the sights and the sounds of Vinegar Hill," she added. "I remember little girls dressed in white dresses, white socks with frilly trim, patent leather shoes ... all going to church on Sundays."
She said she did not want to idealize the neighborhood, since it did have problems.
"As a community, there may not have been much, but there was pride," Lugo said. "There wasn't a stigma attached to being poor."
She recognized that although many families in the Vinegar Hill community did not have running water or electricity, the city should have thought of an alternative to demolition.
"If you're in the heart of town, why wasn't there running water and electric lights?" she said. "I think the idea of chickens and pigs in the center of the city really rubbed people the wrong way."
Vinegar Hill connected the University to downtown Charlottesville and so visitors to the University or to the city would inevitably pass through the neighborhood. With important figures visiting the University, people began to be concerned that Vinegar Hill was an eyesore.
Former University historian Chick Moran, who has lived in Charlottesville all his life, remembers the city when fire engines were drawn by horses and The Daily Progress cost a penny. At 87, Moran remembers the businesses and the community in the Vinegar Hill neighborhood, but also remembers the poverty.
Moran especially recalled Malcolm Sutherland of the Charlottesville Unitarian Church giving a presentation about the state of Vinegar Hill, showing that most of the city's socio-economic and health problems - crime, sanitation issues, venereal disease - were centered in the neighborhood and how something needed to be done.
This was soon after the United States had emerged from World War II and men were returning to Charlottesville eager to make civic improvements.
"It was because these young men had been out risking their lives that they wanted to go out and change things," Moran said, noting the good intentions of those who wanted to change Vinegar Hill.
After the decision went into effect, those in the community who could afford to buy a house elsewhere moved to other parts of the city, but those of lesser means had no choice but to go to Westhaven.
"They were told, in essence, 'you can fight it, but we have more money than you'," Lugo said. "I don't think there was a conscious concern about what people think. In essence, I don't think they gave a damn."
Many Charlottesville residents still remember other historic areas of the city that have been torn down as the area has undergone urban renewal, and though there are few physical reminders of the Vinegar Hill neighborhood, Dowell-Vest and Conway's theatrical production hopes to keep at least the memory from crumbling.
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