It takes a village: How the Black community in Lexington supported VMI and its first wave of Black cadets

There’s an African proverb that says, “It takes a village to raise a child.” In this type of community, your neighbors treat you like family and pour into you with the same love as they have for their own children. For us folks in the Black community, that love also extended to administering punishment, but that’s a topic for another day. The village, as defined by Professor and Researcher Andrea Reupert:

takes many people (“the village”) to provide a safe, healthy environment for children, where children are given the security they need to develop and flourish, and to be able to realize their hopes and dreams. This requires an environment where children’s voices are taken seriously and where multiple people (the “villagers”), including parents, siblings, extended family members, neighbors, teachers, professionals, community members and policy makers, care for a child. All these ‘villagers’ may provide direct care to the children and/or support the parent in looking after their children.

The 20 enslaved Africans (and I would argue all of the other enslaved Africans thereafter) that arrived in the Tidewater area of Virginia on August 20, 1619, brought the ‘village’ ethos with them from the motherland. Just over 349 years later, four young men from the same area of Virginia as those Africans, in addition to one from Warrenton, left their villages to attend Virginia Military Institute (VMI) in the Shenandoah Valley of Lexington, Virginia. This wasn’t just another college sendoff, though. On August 22, 1968, they became the first African Americans to attend the revered institution of higher learning, commonly referred to as the West Point of the South (Ying-sing Wen from southern China was the first non-white cadet to matriculate in 1904 ).

So, what happens when young men grow up and leave the village? When they leave for a job or to attend college, do they then find another village?

The New York Times described Lexington (also home to Washington and Lee University) as a small liberal college town with Confederate roots. But what about the everyday folk in the town that support the universities? The generational Lexingtonians? The people that support those cadets either directly or indirectly? The people that didn’t land in Lexington based on higher education, liberality, or confederating? What about the people who reside in the town and will be there long after the cadets are gone, long after they have ventured into their military or civilian careers? To these people, Lexington is not just a college town with Confederate roots; to them, Lexington is home.

1968 was a pivotal year in the country’s history, especially with the urgent push of the civil rights movement. As for Lexington in 1968, retired registered nurse and Lexingtonian Priscilla Baker was able to shed light:

“Well, the first [Black] class, I’m sure maybe they didn’t know exactly what they were coming to. Segregation wasn’t as out there as in some places. But it was here in this area. But the community, the Black community really accepted the cadets. They came to church, they were invited to people’s homes for meals, and they became friends with the people in the community.”

Historically, the Black Lexington community has supported VMI, mainly in domestic functions early on but then in roles of leadership as opportunities became available. Although the young men were no longer kids in the literal sense, the Black Lexington community still adopted them like one of their own. Not only were they welcomed at a surface level of pleasantries and well wishes, but they were also welcomed into the community pillars of the Black Lexington village: the Black church, Sunday dinner, and the Black barbershop. Not only did the community invest time in them when they were there; those relationships stayed intact long after the young men were students.

Coming from a small town myself, I understand how the community becomes tight-knit. Everybody knows everybody. And when new folks join our community, we tend to rally around them to make them feel welcome. If you are from a southern state and a small town, chances are people will ask you where you go to church. And if you don’t have one, they’d be happy to welcome you to theirs. First Baptist Church of Lexington, the area’s historic Black church since 1867, supported the young men also making history of their own.

Harry Gore, Class of 1972 and the first Black person to be accepted to the Institute, shared his experience with the local community:

“The Black people in Lexington were very welcoming and very accommodating. We went to First Baptist Church, which is right there on Main Street, and they welcomed us with open arms. The pastor at the time was a man named John E. Trotman, and he and his wife were very gracious to us. They had us over to their house for dinner most Sundays after church. And the Sundays that we didn’t go to their house is because we’re going to someone else’s house.”

I’m sure the community wanted to welcome the young men they had heard about into the community. The young men they had read about in the newspaper, saw news stories about on television and heard about in the barbershop, beauty shop, church, and grocery store.

Mrs. Baker continued, “I don’t think we really had any apprehension about the cadets going to VMI. I mean, Black and white people in the community got along with each other. I’m sure they [VMI administration] were also on their Ps and Qs to make sure everything went okay.”

As Dick Valentine ’72, another member of the first class of Black cadets, mentioned in a previous interview with The Washington Post, their integration “turned out to be a non-event. … In the Rat Line, everyone was treated [harshly], and you don’t think it’s racially motivated because the white guy next to you is getting it too.”

I was curious about the relations between the different communities of Lexington, especially after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., but the white and Black Lexingtonians appeared to have an amicable relationship going back generations. First Baptist Church formed out of Manley Memorial Church, a church that supported white and Black (free and enslaved) worshippers alike.

Valentine continued, “There was a lot of curiosity about us in the town, and in the Black community, there was a lot of pride at finally seeing our faces in those uniforms.”

A lot of Black families show love through meals and through their cooking. “Sit down here and eat somethin’. We gotta put some meat on dem bones,” my grandmother would say. I’m sure for the cadets, it also served as a check-in; and when they became familiar with each other, I’m sure it was good for them to see familiar faces beyond campus. The challenges didn’t stop when the rat line ended, so it was good for them to get a regular stream of encouragement from people who eventually became an extended family for them.

Mrs. Baker mentioned that her mother-in-law, Marie Baker, hosted the cadets for meals after church. As a foodie, I asked her about the details of a typical Sunday meal: “Typical Southern food. I mean, everybody likes fried chicken” (commonly referred to as the gospel bird in the church community). And then all the things that go with it. Mac and cheese, corn pudding, green beans, just a typical Sunday meal.”

Pastor John E. Trotman, a North Carolina native and generous host of the cadets while pastoring First Baptist Church, grew up in a home with 11 family members, whom he says were all close. In a 1991 interview with The Daily Advance (North Carolina), he reflected on his upbringing and thoughts on role models:

“We had one meal, at least, where everybody ate together and we would sit and talk. It brought parents and youngsters together. … In my community, neighbors were your parents. Teachers would visit the house, so everyone raised us.… Role model people are people that should be possessed with a fire to do whatever it takes to set a standard for young people.”

Growing up in that type of home and living the “village” example, it was natural for Reverend Trotman and his family to take new cadets under their wing and spend time with them over a meal with his family. Not only him, but I’m sure the whole church community took ownership and prayed for them.

Mrs. Baker recounted her “village” community of Lexington in a previous interview with the Historic Lexington Foundation:

“Our neighborhoods were full of caring parents. I remember that the parents in my neighborhood were all very concerned with the safety and well-being of all the children. They watched out for each other’s children and even went so far as to correct misbehavior of children other than their own. ‘We took care of each other’: That is a phrase that’s often heard when remembering those days and even now. … We have always attended church, and we belong to First Baptist. That place has been a very important part of our family life, and we still support it. We also hold a reverence for the little old Cedar Hill church [deep in Rockbridge County], which many of our older relatives attended.”

Mrs. Baker continued, shedding light on the role of First Baptist Church in the cadet’s tenure: “Church played a big part. And it’s so funny when they got out of the rat line and got a break. At the church, we had breakfast for them when they first came. You would see them go to the phone and call home.” (Rats historically have limited phone privileges.)

Gore also recalls when he and a few other cadets joined the Trotman family to watch Super Bowl IV. Kansas City beat Minnesota (25 years before Patrick Mahomes was born). The meals and fellowship helped a lot. “It gave us a pep in our step to help us make it through the first part of the week.”

Like meals, the Black barbershop can be an experience where you receive love and guidance. The barbershop can be therapeutic to customers, a place for men to go and blow some steam off amongst peers. And from time to time, you may see the occasional eccentric personality (think “Coming to America”), but overall, it’s a safe place where people try to help and advise the best they can. Some guys go to the barbershop to hang out and talk, even if they are not in need of a cut.

“After we got out of the rat line, when we could get downtown a little bit more often, we went to a Black barber. Wendell,” said Gore. Wendell’s barbershop served as a pillar in the community for nearly 50 years. Coincidentally, Wendell was also married to Priscilla Baker until his passing in 2019.

As noted in the article “Heard it through the Grapevine” about the historic importance of the Black barbershop:

The rise of Jim Crow laws limited spaces where Blacks could gather, and the barbershop filled this void, similar to Black churches but on a smaller scale.

Further, “The barbershop is where Black men can come to reconnect, to be themselves, and enjoy each other’s company,” said Sean Thompson, owner of Sean’s House of Masters Barbershop. “It’s been called the Black men’s country club. It doesn’t matter how much you make, what your title is, we’re all on the same level when we enter the barbershop. We laugh, we debate, we talk sports, and current events.”

In a previous interview with Historic Lexington Foundation, Wendell Baker recounted his journey as a barber:

“I went to barber school in Washington, D.C., and then came back to Lexington to work for Dave Moore as a barber in the lobby of the Robert E. Lee Hotel, where I stayed for the next 10 years. Then I opened my own shop on Jefferson Street, and there I stayed for almost 50 years. On my days off, I went over to VMI to cut the hair of the cadets. I also had many friends at Washington and Lee, and often alums would return for a visit and come get their hair cut.”

Regarding his role as a barber and mentor, he stated:

“I was sometimes a counselor. I would never repeat those things that were told to me. One day a man came in and he let me know that he was a friend of Mother Teresa. I said to myself, “That’s about as close as I’ll ever get to sainthood!”

His wife, Mrs. Baker would affirm, “And people would often say that he was like a therapist. And he would always tell them, what went on in the barbershop stayed in the barbershop.” The barbershop was like Switzerland: a neutral, judgment-free zone.

One of Wendell’s customers remembers him and the barbershop fondly: “For many of us it was a place we’d go to laugh, to share stories. There was always talk about whatever sport was in season. Some of us went there to learn, maybe something about life, something about the community perhaps we didn’t know. At times he seemed to even be a therapist to some of us as he listened to our problems, more importantly, a friend.”

Phil Wilkerson ’72, also a member of the first class of Black cadets, received support from the Black Lexington community. In a 2019 panel on the History of Integration at VMI, he mentioned that the Baker family would continue to support him beyond his cadetship. Wilkerson noted that Mrs. Marie Baker would send him care packages even when he was stationed overseas in the military. It’s because of the support of the Black Lexington community that he said he never felt alone while going through the challenges of VMI.

Wilkerson also noted during Parents Weekend that his family would stay with the Baker family. During the civil rights era, Black people had limited lodging choices (remember The Green Book?). Lexington had a few places to house Black lodgers, but people also stayed with local families they became acquainted with. They took care of each other.

As Mrs. Baker notes, “My mother-in-law and Ms. Wilkerson, they became really good friends. And we even visited their home in Hampton. And of course, they came to my mother-in-law’s house. And they were best friends until Ms. Wilkerson passed first and then my mother-in-law passed.”

Valentine, like the others, was also embraced into the community. However, he was fortunate enough to not only leave Lexington with a degree in engineering and lifelong relationships, but he also connected with his future wife. As Mrs. Baker noted, “In fact, a couple of them, I think, married local girls.”

The cadets not only received encouragement off campus from the Lexington community, but they also received encouragement from Black staff on campus. Despite not being able to attend as students until 1968, African Americans have been involved with VMI in some capacity or another since its founding in 1839, primarily in domestic capacities, such as stoopies (trash pickup), laundry workers and mess hall waiters. The Black staff at VMI all gave encouragement to the young men. Whether a nod, a cheerful greeting, or a quick check-in, staff was there to help in whatever capacity they could.

As the years passed, the relationship with First Baptist Church not only continued to develop with cadets, but it also developed with other members of the Institute. In the mid-’80s , while Reverend James Scott lived in Staunton and pastored at First Baptist, the parsonage was rented to a military officer on assignment at VMI. When Reverend Scott resigned in 1985, Air Force Chaplain Johnny Stewart, stationed at VMI’s ROTC Department, served as interim pastor for over a year while the church sought its next permanent pastor.

Eventually, the number of minority cadets at VMI grew, and out of that growth came with it the formation of a student organization focused on African Americans, the Promaji Club. As Kendra Delahunt explains in her master’s thesis:

On April 24, 1975, 18 Black cadets, under the leadership of Cadet Frank P. De Laine Jr. ’76, submitted a permit to Superintendent Major General Richard L. Irby to found the Promaji Club. The club, with the backing of the Main Street First Baptist Church of Lexington (the very same church that provided VMI’s first Black cadets with support), would be a club oriented toward community engagement and service. While not officially deemed a Black Student Union, the club would serve predominantly as a space for Black cadets, though all members of the Corps were welcome to join. The word Promaji was selected intentionally and means “togetherness” in Swahili. As its founding permit explains, Promaji was to “[strive] for the solidification of the bond of hospitality and goodwill between Black cadets and an extremely [gracious] Lexington community” and was to “act as a communicating body facilitating rapport among the community, Corps of Cadets, and the Institute.”

This further shows the continued support over the years of the First Baptist Church community, and the village/togetherness fabric built into the student organization.

Although church for cadets is not mandatory as it once was in the ’60s and ’70s, the relationship between the First Baptist Church community and VMI cadets is still present today. The Rev. McKinley Williams, the current pastor of First Baptist Church, shared the following:

“First Baptist Church is central to the success and well-being of many students, especially the VMI cadets. As the oldest independent African American congregation in the region, First Baptist Church of Lexington has always and continues to be a refuge for those whom the society deems as different. Currently, First Baptist Church has an open door for the cadets. Our church has a program where we get to know the cadets and share a meal with them. We have been encouraged by the cadets utilizing their skills to help renovate, paint, and clean the church. We also have had the cadets trim the greenery outdoors. We have had the Glee Club to provide the music for several Worship Services. Still, many members have invited cadets to their homes for food and fellowship.”

Former cadets in the first wave of Black students have also poured back into the VMI community. Mac Bowman ’73, M.D., and Eugene Williams ’74 have both served at the highest level of the Institute, the VMI Board of Visitors. Williams, who was in the third class of Black cadets at VMI, also became the first Black board of visitors member at VMI in 1978. He operates the nonprofit College Orientation Workshop , a monthlong summer program at VMI that exposes minority males in high school to life skills, academic development, college and career planning, as well as cultural enrichment. From their times as cadets being welcomed into the Lexington community to pouring back into the community years later, they have become part of the extended village.

So, why did the Black Lexingtonians welcome them into their village? Maybe they gave them love because they felt like they had newfound ownership in the VMI process. Up until that time, they couldn’t attend. VMI was a place that existed in their community but wasn’t for them. They could get a job in a labor-intensive role but not in the educational process. But then, the first waves of Black cadets provided hope. They could cheer for the school now for cadets who looked like them.

There are aspects of VMI that may not have helped its relationship with the Black community historically; however, VMI continues to show progress over time. Dick Valentine said it best: “We can talk about things we hate and things we want to see different about VMI, but that’s because we love it.” (Similar to me as a sometimes disgruntled yet diehard Washington Commanders fan.)

Maybe Black Lexingtonians were excited to have more people who looked like them in town, so they wanted to be hospitable and show their appreciation. The concept of Black people being allowed to attend VMI as students was new, but the concept of Black people welcoming newcomers into the community was and is commonplace. Business as usual. Not that it didn’t mean anything. It means a lot. Especially in a land where we are the minority. But the concept of the village, that togetherness, came with us from the motherland.

Mark 12:31 says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The Black people in Lexington exemplified and lived that. Maybe the cadets were welcomed into the community for all of the reasons mentioned; but at the core, I think it goes back to that African proverb, “it takes a village to raise a child.” From the first Black cadets, the first women cadets, the first Black board of visitor members, to Major General Wins, the first Black Superintendent, the Black community of Lexington has embraced, prayed for, and supported Blacks on the inside of VMI every step of the way.

Sources:

It Takes a Village to Raise a Child: Understanding and Expanding the Concept of the “Village” – PMC (nih.gov)

Chinese student at Virginia Military Institute – Encyclopedia Virginia

https://knowledge.uchicago.edu/nanna/record/3234/files/Uncivil%20War%3A%20Integrating%20the%20Virginia%20Military%20Institute.pdf?withWatermark=0&withMetadata=0&version=1&registerDownload=1

A Liberal Town Built Around Confederate Generals Rethinks Its Identity – The New York Times (nytimes.com)

https://wakespace.lib.wfu.edu/bitstream/handle/10339/60992/MS615_Trotman_John_E_access.pdf

AT VMI, PIONEERS RECALL BREAKING EARLIER BARRIER – The Washington Post

History of Integration Panel – VMI Alumni Agencies

“Heard It through the Grapevine”: The Black Barbershop as a Source of Health Information – PMC (nih.gov)

https://www.historiclexington.org/_files/ugd/03512c_cb607f7530a64bed8273e16f9343d84a.pdf

AlleghanyJournal.com ONLINE Obituaries

Wendell Baker Profile (youtube.com)

125th Anniversary, First Baptist Church, 1992 (wlu.edu)

Centennial Commemoration Book of the First Baptist Church in Lexington, Va., 1967 (wlu.edu)

2021-2022: COW Program Transforms Youths at VMI – VMI News

College Orientation Workshop, Inc. (cow4life.org)

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