Sherryl Woods - A Small Town Love Story - Colonial Beach, Virginia

Just because their own graduations and those of their children were long ago, it hasn’t stopped their loyalty to the Drifters. Jessie and Donald still attend every high school basketball game and talk with pride about their championship runs and the year they brought home the state trophy.

But if the school played a part in their early friendship, they both say that their separate churches are important in the lives they lived back then and continue to live now.

Colonial Beach Baptist Church, 1961

Colonial Beach Methodist Church

Jackie grew up in the Methodist Church, which took over a building that once housed the Union Church, the town’s first official church. It was used by various denominations for many years. One by one the denominations built their own churches. The Methodists took over the building in 1911, and the building was later demolished. Jackie now lives in a home that was made, in part, from that scrap lumber.

Donald on the basketball court

Her mother played the organ at the Methodist Church, and she fondly recalls a community Thanksgiving service at that church in 1951. The service was followed by cinnamon rolls and coffee. “That made a sweet impression on me,” she says wryly.

Meanwhile Jessie was a member of the Baptist congregation. “Our mother church was Round Hill Baptist Church,” which is located several miles from Colonial Beach. “They started a mission at the beach.” It began 120 years ago in a building on Bancroft Avenue across from the Hopkins store before moving to the main road in town, Washington Avenue.

She was two when she began attending services there and became a member when she was eleven.

Originally called the Colonial Beach First Baptist Church, members later realized that the African American Baptist Church had actually started earlier and gave them the designation of being the First Baptist Church. And when they tore down the church on Washington Avenue at the corner of Dennison to move to a larger building, they also gave their windows and pews to the African American church.

At one point, under Director of Music Steve Newman, they had several youth and children’s choirs with eighty children. “Now we don’t even have a children’s choir,” Jessie laments.

But both women see the churches as real anchors to the community for the members of their congregations. Many have food pantries, some have thrift shops; almost all hold events such as bazaars and dinners that draw neighbors regardless of their own denominations.

When asked about memorable characters in town, they mention everyone’s favorite, Mattie Hopkins, who, with her husband, owned a small neighborhood store. It was well known for its jam-packed shewlves and for Mattie’s willingness to turn a blind eye when it came to selling beer to young people without checking IDs.

Jessie at the Bank of Westmoreland, 1948

Everyone seems to remember Mattie, walking to church in her tennis shoes with taps on them. Though she attended St. Mary’s Episcopal Church, Mattie always stopped across the street at the Baptist Church, sat on the steps and changed into her “good” shoes before crossing the street to St. Mary’s.

And, recalls Jessie, who worked at the Bank of Westmoreland for forty-four years, Mattie would always bring her store deposits to the bank tucked into her bra.

Mention the Bank of Westmoreland and Jessie’s eyes get misty. “I hope I never see the day that building is torn down.”

Standing on a corner in what was once the heart of downtown Colonial Beach, where the street was lined with crowds of tourists and locals every Saturday morning to shop at the A&P, the bakery or hardware store or to pick up mail at the post office, the Bank of Westmoreland, which was built in 1904, became Colonial Beach town offices for a time. The building was vacated several years ago, but many want to see it given the historic designation it deserves and used in some appropriate way to maintain the vital role it once played in the community.

Like so many others in town, the two friends lament some changes and embrace others. No matter what, though, neither would live anywhere else.

Donald and Jessie Hall

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