THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, March 22, 1995 TAG: 9503220020
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY DENISE WATSON, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 214 lines
EVERY AFTERNOON, Darnell, Dorsett, Walter and Creel walk to their special place to play the basketball game of their lives.
There, 6-year-old Walter becomes a high-flying forward who sails effortlessly over his opponents for that oh-so-sweet finger-roll.
Dorsett's airballs turn into game-winning jumpshots. Nothing but net, of course.
``Anferneeeee Hardawaaaay,'' Dorsett howls the name of a favorite star player, throwing his arms up to the praise of imaginary fans.
Their field of dreams is the hardwood court of the Hunton YMCA that sits within grasping distance of their homes in the Tidewater Gardens public housing community.
Hopes and dreams are hard to come by for these kids, but they've been able to find some of both here at the rust-colored building on Charlotte Street. The same can be said for the Hunton itself, which began 120 years ago when the sprawling Young Men Christian's Association wanted to ``experiment'' with a branch for blacks.
It was, obviously, a success. A major success. Despite periods of financial problems and mismanagement, it's done the impossible by simply surviving for 120 years.
It's this hefty legacy, however, that makes the coming months difficult for Hunton's board of directors. The board must decide by June 30 whether the Hunton will remain an independent with its financial uncertainty, or become an affiliate of the more-prosperous, primarily-white South Hampton Roads YMCA chain and perhaps lose its identity.
The Hunton will continue to be that special place - historically, sometimes the only place - for blacks, but to what extent?
``We're going to survive either way, . . . but either way, there's going to be some pain, some sorrow,'' said its executive director, Reginald Towns.
``Once the decision is made, someone is going to say, `You all should've joined them; you all shouldn't have joined them.' It could be a lot of finger-pointing. The greater issue is, will the children and families get what they need?''
As one of the oldest independent black YMCAs in the country, the Hunton does what so many YMCAs don't.
In addition to its recreational programs, it houses up to 130 homeless people every night. It provides training for people wanting to get their general-education diploma. It brings students and professionals together through mentoring programs. And it serves as a food-stamp distribution center for 1,500 clients.
The ``grand experiment'' began in 1875, when a black man attended a YMCA convention in Richmond and asked delegates to consider a YMCA for blacks. A Bible-study group of black men in Norfolk was asked to tackle the task.
The group agreed and operated for more than a decade as the ``Negro Y.'' But it wasn't until a Canadian-born man, William Alphaeus Hunton, was asked to become general secretary that the organization became an independent YMCA.
Taking the helm of the Norfolk group was a difficult decision for Hunton. He had to leave the more racially tolerant Canada for a racially divided southern United States. It meant returning to the land where his father had been a slave before buying his freedom from his owner, Nettie Lee, sister to Confederate Civil War hero Robert E. Lee.
But Hunton believed in the purpose of the group, and in 1888, he accepted the post at the independent Y, working out of a few rooms over a store on Church Street.
He resigned in 1891 to work in the international committee, becoming the first black YMCA secretary in the United States. The local group adapted his name and flourished.
The Hunton soon moved into bigger quarters. Its library grew with hundreds of donations. Debating and literary societies expanded as the membership did. A social branch for women, the ``Women's Auxiliary,'' also was established.
By 1935, the Hunton was housing classes for 85 students enrolled in the Norfolk unit of Virginia Union University, which would later become Norfolk State University. The Hunton also affiliated in 1935 with the Central Branch of the YMCA, the main, ``white'' organization.
By 1952, the Hunton had moved to a run-down Brambleton Avenue building, but it had become an important fixture in the black community. When the Norfolk Shoeshine Boys Club was banned from some Norfolk stores for ``causing a nuisance,'' the Hunton took them in and turned them around, teaching them some basic principles of behavior - no gambling, smoking, fighting or profane language - as well as business skills.
But in 1957, the Hunton director came under fire for his handling of YMCA funds. Some members of the Hunton Branch sought to withdraw from the Central Y and set up a separate organization.
The Central Y went to court and on March 28, 1958, a local judge ruled the Hunton was still a part of the Central. The decision was upheld by the Virginia Supreme Court in June 1959.
Despite the turmoil, the Hunton continued to provide. Often its ramshackle quarters prevented the Hunton from offering a wide-range of services - which hampered its appeal to a growing middle-class clientele - but Thomas Scott remembers good days there.
``The Hunton was a great YMCA. That's where we looked for our leaders,'' said Scott, now executive director of the Hayes-Taylor YMCA in Greensboro, N.C.
``Dr. Lyman Beecher Brooks, Winston Douglas, principal of the high school, all the prominent black leadership was involved with the YMCA. . . We'd have Big Brothers day when the board of directors would come down to the camp for a barbecue, listen to our dreams and aspirations. I have a lot of great memories of the Hunton.''
By 1966, relations between the Central YMCA and the Hunton were again strained, and the Hunton severed its relationship and became an independent.
The transition almost brought the Hunton to a standstill. Directors would come and go and during the early 1970s, and faulty heating and plumbing in their Wood Street building forced them to use church buildings temporarily.
In 1977, the Hunton moved into its current location, which once served as a United Service Organizations hall for ``colored'' troops. With financial support from the community, the Hunton refurbished the old recreation center, adding a new wing with a gym, sauna and exercise equipment.
During the early 1980s, the Hunton again resembled its old self. It was offering a variety of classes to a variety of folks, from senior-citizen's aerobics to the Hungry Club Forum, which met weekly to discuss current affairs such as crime, teen pregnancy and AIDS.
But by 1988, the Hunton found itself in another financial bind. The Y had not paid its federal taxes for almost two years, leaving a debt of more than $116,000 in taxes and penalities. The Internal Revenue Service eventually excused the penalities, which reduced the debt to $80,000, but the Hunton still couldn't pay the taxes.
Fund-raising efforts and community donations whittled away at the debt, but by 1991 the Hunton was on the verge of shutting its doors. An asbestos problem was discovered - to the tune of $250,000 - and the United Way ordered the Hunton to hire an outside management agency to handle its affairs, citing mismanagement and a lack of community programming.
The Hunton entered into a 3-year management contract with the YMCA of South Hampton Roads, part of the agreement being an invitation to re-affiliate.
Towns also was brought in as director in 1991 to breathe some life into the Hunton. When he arrived, the Hunton offered only three programs and was a sad sight of broken windows, mice and cockroaches.
``But I figured we couldn't go anywhere but up,'' Towns says now.
``And we've made progress. You have to be dedicated to the cause to work here. You're not going to get rich here, but we have people here who want to help these children, help these people. If you aren't dedicated, you won't last long.''
Now, four years later, the Hunton offers 31 programs and is bustling seven days a week, day and night. There are computer classes, a homework-assistance program, before- and after-school day care and a summer camp that attracts some 255 kids.
There are folks such as Derrick Gay, who grew up at the Hunton during the 1980s, and now returns a few hours each week to help.
``The Hunton means leadership; it teaches responsibility,'' Gay said. ``It teaches you the values of life.''
The management contract with the YMCA of South Hampton Roads expired last year, but the Hunton requested an extension to allow new board members to analyze the benefits of affiliation versus independence, as well as to map out their hopes and dreams for the Hunton YMCA.
That year-long extension expires June 30.
Whether it becomes an affiliate or not, the Hunton still is responsible for its own funding. It's currently supported by the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority, the United Way, the Department of Social Services - which provides most of the day-care funds - and fund raising.
Less than 1 percent of its revenue comes from membership dues.
``The Hunton's mission being what it is, it's hard for the people who use it to become members,'' said board member Bruce Williams. ``If we were to say, `Only members could do this,' they'd be eliminated.''
Becoming a branch of the YMCA of South Hampton Roads could mean renovation revenue, new cots for the day-care center and better medical and pension plans for the employees.
But many of those skittish about affiliation worry about the accompanying loss of autonomy. Decisions the Hunton board now makes would become only recommendations to the South Hampton Roads board of directors.
Charles Harris, president of the YMCA of South Hampton Roads, said affiliation has many benefits, but the decision is up to the Hunton board.
``Hampton Roads' concern is how to best serve children and family in the Tidewater Community,'' Harris said. ``It's not a black-and-white issue, or a gender issue. Our mission is to rebuild.''
But many supporters of the Hunton say the decision does have racial overtones. They remember too well how the black Phyllis Wheatley YWCA became a non-entity when it merged with the central YWCA in 1961.
``I didn't even know the Phyllis Wheatley existed until someone brought it up in one of our meetings,'' Williams said. ``There's a fear that the mission, legacy and tradition will just disappear.''
But until then, and even afterward, the Hunton YMCA will continue as it has for 120 years: being that special place for people such as Darnell, Dorsett, Walter and Creel.
They'll still walk every day to the Hunton, where the bleachers are filled with fans and the court filled with dreams.
``Go all the way, Bay-Beee,'' Darnell says in his best Dick Vitale voice, stealing the ball and pushing it down court. ``All the way, BAAAYYYYY-BEEEEEEE. . . '' MEMO: Intern Tonya Woods contributed to this story.
ILLUSTRATION: RICHARD L. DUNSTON/Staff color photos
Reginald Towns is executive director of the Hunton YMCA, one of the
oldest black YMCAs in the nation.
Norfolk State student Sharon Taylor leaves the Hunton YMCA after
receiving math tutoring.
Mable E. Tyler, director of the learning center, tutors Kevin Keene,
who is preparing to take the GED.
by CNB