History
Editor’s note: This report was produced by youth reporters at RichmondPulse.org, and is the second part in our two-part series.
In his songs and videos, he is “Macho,” the North Richmond everyman who sneers at his harrowing surroundings through jaundiced eyes. But despite the overt bravado and taunts toward rivals, the real Crummie is hopeful, witty, and funny, like an overgrown kid calloused by a life suffused in tragedy.
For the first time in 20 years, the Kennedy Eagles have a shot at the playoffs. If the team defeats Piedmont High School Thursday, first-year varsity football coach Mack Carminer said the win will qualify the team for one more game. Despite excitement during Tuesday’s practice, several Eagles players expressed confusion about the upcoming game. “Let me ask one more question,” Takkaris McKinley said. “We win, we are in the playoffs?” “What you heard on the street, from your friends,…
For a church that has been at the forefront of community services for 45 years, Sunday’s anniversary at Independent Community Church was just another reason to stay active.
When Christina Gardener wrote captions for Dorothea Lange’s photographs in 1943, she used shorthand and kept the backup notes for two days only; with the enormous work flow, saving it all didn’t make any sense. Then 22, Gardener didn’t know that she was dealing with posterity. On Saturday, almost seven decades later, Gardener, 91, held the historic pictures up to illuminate the times behind the moments frozen on silver paper — the sadness of the times, the round-the-clock frenzy of…
Summer Brenner sits quietly at a coffee shop table amid the rumbling of the city outside and smiles as she gently thumbs through a copy of her 2009 children’s book Richmond Tales: Lost Secrets of the Iron Triangle, a story featuring an array of young characters who journey through time to discover the lost history of the industrial city. “I believe it gives insight into children’s lives growing up there, especially those that feel disconnected from their homeland,” Brenner said….
The Sixth Street block party was set, tentatively, for noon Saturday. But by 12:15, the foldaway tables and chairs were still empty. The organizers had said there would be a potluck, but by about 1 p.m., there still wasn’t much food on the tables. A few bags of chips, a bowl of fresh pears, some plastic cups. A set of speakers pumped music up and down the road, and children played some basketball, but there weren’t many potluck-goers. And then…
Nearly 400 friends, family, dignitaries and well-wishers turned out for the midday service, which was a medley of love and music and anecdotes that all agreed would have induced Jackson’s trademark wide grin.
As one of the dozens of buoyant well-wishers put it Thursday night, these services didn’t have the feel of a funeral – there was too much joy in the room.