The Fall and Rise of Downtown

Everyone knows that the past two decades have been less than kind to downtown Danville. Until recently, very little was left besides vagrants and some businesses. Downtown Danville was a shell of its former self. Until recently, that is. Downtown Danville is on the rise again. I suppose, as Kenny Rorer always said "there's nothing new under the sun. History repeats itself."

I missed the ultimate demise of downtown by about three years. When I was born, in 1987, downtown was nothing special. It's where my dad's office was, there were some businesses, and the library was there. It wasn't until I was older that I began to learn about the prominence of downtown everywhere, not just Danville.

1984, the year Piedmont Mall was built, marked the end of an era for downtown. By the 1960s and 1970s, Riverside Drive was booming with business, and there became less and less reason to go downtown. The mall, however, remained downtown. I, personally, can't tell you anything about it other than Belk Legget was there, since even I remember that ghost sign that I believe was painted over when it became lawyer offices some years ago.

It can be said, however, that some businesses have never left. Rippe's and Abe Koplen Clothing have been staples of downtown for decades. Both family owned businesses, and run by wonderful people who have spent years building a client base that have kept them in business year after year.

I suppose, being a graduate of Galileo Magnet High School, I should mention that, technically, Sears was the last to leave in 1993. But to be honest, I was still 5 years old. And all I remember about it was buying a lawn mower from the little fenced in area that ultimately was closed in and became a history and subsequently theatre classroom. 

You see, downtown was the epicenter of the town prior to expansion across the river. It was not just where people worked, but it was where people shopped. Downtown was teeming with theatres, stores, restuarants, everything. Even car dealerships were scattered along the various streets of downtown Danville. George W. Aron, who sold Mercedes, Jeep, and AMC for years was located on Bridge Street and later Floyd Street. The Renault dealership moved to Wilson Street sometime in the 1960s. Buicks or Fords were sold on Craghead Street. Whatever you needed, you could find it downtown. As Petula Clark said: "Downtown everything's waiting for you."

There was even a period of time where (if I recall correctly) due to traffic flow, Main Street from Ridge Street to Craghead was a one way street and three lanes wide. Just as Patton Street, to this day, travels one way to Craghead, Main Street was one way going from the River.

Union Street

Main Street, May 2009

I think that thermometer still works. I've been meaning to go back in the winter and check it.

Rippe's, along with Abe Koplen clothing, have been a staple of downtown for decades.

To this day, ghost signs still adorn buildings which have lately caused much upset in the city. Go down Lynn Street and you'll still see the sign that once adorned Smith Seeds. Look around on many of the buildings, the old downtown mall still has a sign for Belk Leggett (it must have been the old Downtown Mall sign that was painted over). The thermometer that once adorned the side of the Newspaper building still rests on the building.

Smith Seeds

Ok, so I was wrong. As of 2007 the Belk Leggett sign still existed.

 Associated Coin-Ops Ghost Sign

Why was there even any question regarding whether or not these signs can be restored?!

While I don't think it's worth it in this particular entry to get into details about specific buildings, I will say that many of the buildings that adorn Main Street and the surrounding streets have rich, colorful histories that are worthy of entries of their own. Hopefully, one day I'll get to it. If not, I recommend The Postcard History Series: Danville, VA by Clara Garrett Fountain and Images of America: Danville, VA by Todd McGregor Yeatts.

The ending point of this entry, is a good one. Downtown Danville is on the rise, once again. It's probably somewhat of a struggle, but people are investing time and money into business and buildings. Restaurants are opening (I recommend Jake's on Main, by the way) and new stores are opening. What does the future hold for downtown, other than the demise of the Downtowner? The outlook is bright and I, for one, am thrilled.

We All Know How Much I Love Cars and Why You Can't Always Trust Memories

My mom grew up in Danville. Therefore, a lot of my knowledge of buildings and locations come from what she remembers, as well as other older Danvillians I knew growing up. Admittedly, I was cursed with the title of "you're Joe Taylor's grandson," "you're Louise Taylor's grandson," "oh, I went to school with your mom," or just as frequently (and often in conjunction with one of the above) "Oh, you're Allan's son. I know your dad."

Throughout the past century, Danville has been a host to many businesses that are oft overlooked. For the purposes of this blog, we'll focus on Car Dealers. Long before the days of "Robert said sell 'em" and VIR, the automotive scene in Danville was nothing like it is today. Where most people travel to Greensboro, Roanoke, or Lynchburg to buy fancier cars or foreign cars that just aren't sold in Danville, in the 1950s and 1960s most everything you could imagine was available in Danville...most of which in downtown, believe it or not. Renault, Peugeot, Fiat, Volkswagen, and Mercedes (just to name a few) were all sold in Danville at one time.

What sparked this entry, however, is a very certain automotive manufacturer that isn't even available in the United States anymore: Renault (pronounced Reh-noh for those aren't familiar). My grandmother had two Renaults which she loved dearly. For those of you who knew me in high school, her Renaults were to her what my Accord was to me. She would talk about those cars until shortly before her death. And I don't mean the crappy ones imported by AMC in the 1980s. Oh no, I mean the crappy ones (sorry, Grandma) that were available in the United States in the 1950s-1970s.

My mom once or twice spoke of the Renault dealership being located downtown, where the bus depot is today. I decided to do a little research through the Register and Bee archives, but found nothing alluding to this. I did, however, learn something very intriguing about the Renault dealership. It seems that it was actually, at least in the early 1960s, located not in downtown, but on West Main Street. 

Next time you're on West Main Street, at the intersection with Howeland Circle, look at the brick building next to Swicegood Funeral Home. Perhaps you may have noticed at some point in your life, there is a little driveway going below the building. That little driveway has intrigued me for as long as I can remember. I even once had a dream where I went down there -- don't ask why I remember that dream, it's a long story. Well, the reason that driveway is there is because that building used to be a car dealership. Older Danvillians know this building for the Soda Shop and later a florist that occupied this building. I think it's dentist offices now.

Next door, on the tract of land that Huffman's Car Wash now occupies rested a group of buildings. One of those buildings was the Coca Cola bottling company, at least in the 1920s. In the 1960s and 1970s, the soda shop occupied one of those buildings. Another one was occupied in the early 1960s by the Renault and Peugeot dealership. I believe, though I'm not 100% certain, that based on my the Sanborn Maps the buildings that Huffman's Car Wash occupy now are the storage buildings once occupied by the Coca Bottling Company. The car wash holds the same shape as the storage buildings did in the old maps.

I must admit, it's the frailty of the human memory that sparked this entry. You see, I vaguely recalled some connection between the First Citizens Bank Building downtown, the bus depot, and the Renault dealership. Following a phone call with my mother today, I realized it was my own fault that I misremembered. I, for some reason, though the Renault dealership was where the Bus Depot is now. I was wrong. What my mother had told me was that the First Citizens building was the old Greyhound or Trailways Bus Depot. We must have been talking about the Renaults at the time or something, I don't know. But it makes sense that the parking spaces in that lot could have easily been for busses prior to the little cement barriers that now separate the spaces.

Anyway, that's my soapbox about old buildings and car dealerships.

While we're on the subject of trains...

There is a wealth of information and stories involving trains in Danville as far back as my access to the Register & Bee archives reaches. In the 1920's, trains were still the preferred method of long distance travel and delivery of goods.

I grew up within ear shot of the train tracks. For 22 years, in fact  -- save for a month where I lived with friends in Woodberry Hills at the end of 11th grade after my parents moved to Topsail Island. When I was born, we lived at Sutherlin Place, the townhouses on Holbrook Avenue. Then we moved to Southwyck Farms, and finally to Forest Hills. Plus, my grandmother lived at Stratford House. In fact, when I moved to Greensboro to go to UNCG, I lived right by the train tracks. During my junior year, people who lived in the same building as I did complained about the sound of the trains at night. To which I replied: "what trains?" I never really noticed them. In fact, on the rare occasion I do hear them at night, it always makes me tired because I grew up hearing them late at night when everything was quiet, and I knew it was time for bed.

In the 1920's, however, trains were a constant presence in Danville. They travelled to the mills, lumber yards, coal yards, and brick yards, and brought people in and out of town from great distances. Cars were still relatively new and safety measures such as crossing signals did not exist yet. The basic principle when arriving at a train crossing in a car was to "stop, look, and listen."

Though it was a pretty simple concept, it did not always work. Especially at one particular railroad crossing: Stokesland Avenue. For those who don't know street names, this is the train crossing that is closest to the Hardee's on West Main Street. When approaching this crossing from Stokesland Avenue, going towards West Main Street, you're going up a hill and it wasn't always possible to see the trains coming. Many people who approach the crossing, see the train, and try to gun it across the tracks before the train arrived; thus stalling out their engines. Others would simply panic and throw the car into high gear at a low speed, thus stalling the engine. This is one of those stories.

Looking up the hill at the Stokesland Avenue railway crossing

On July 13, 1923 one man saved the life of a woman and her child after their car stalled on the train tracks. Robert Lester Shaw, a 23 year old who operated the card room at Schoolfield Mill was walking home from work when he encountered Captain Will Wilson working on a car near the Stokesland Avenue crossing. Shaw, who formerly worked for the railway, knew Wilson and stopped to speak with him. While the men were chatting, Mrs. C. A. Gillispie and her four year old daughter, Iris, were on their way to the mill to pick her husband. Her view of the tracks was obstructed by a bank and she was unable to see an on-coming train. She began to cross the tracks in a low gear, panicked, threw the car into high gear, and stalled the engine.

With adrenaline pumping, Shaw sprung into action. He was about 15 feet away from Mrs. Gillispie's car when it stalled out and, seeing the on-coming train 45 to 50 feet away, ran to the car. He grabbed Mrs. GillIspie and pushed her behind him before turning around and grabbing the child from the car. As he cleared the tracks with the girl, the train struck the car. Shaw recalled being 5 feet away when the train struck and seeing part of the car's engine high in the air and hearing the squeals and groans of the train's brakes. Through the ordeal, Mrs. Gillispie was concerned with her child, screaming "save my baby! save my baby!" as she was removed from the car.

When the train was finally stopped, some 200 yards away, the conductor approached the group of people who have gathered and demanded the name of "the man that saved those two." He collected the names of witnesses and upon arriving at the train station reported the incident and indicated a "desire to shake the hand of the man who saved those two."

Mr. Gillispie was notified at work and immediately went to the scene. The Bee noted that Gillispie had Shaw over for dinner and a friendship was forming that was "sure to last."

The Bee made an investigation, followed-up with witnesses, and submitted the story to the Carnegie Foundation in New York to nominate Shaw for a Carnegie Award. Mr. Gillispie, as well, wired the foundation in support of Shaw.

Of all the stories I've encountered about Danville in researching the house, this is one that I wish had not been lost to time. It's such an amazing story of unbridled heroism, and has since been lost and forgotten.