Princess Anne County

Would you believe it’s been 50 years since Princess Anne County went out of existence? That, on the stroke of midnight, Dec. 31, 1962, the name that had endured for centuries was discarded in favor of what was to be called the world’s largest resort city, Virginia Beach?

And that on the same tick of the clock, Norfolk County, what was left of the vast, mostly rural countryside sprawling all the way to the North Carolina line, combined with the small city of South Norfolk, suddenly became Chesapeake?

These instant cities were born not because they had reached a critical mass of people. Instead, as this newspaper editorialized at the time, their creations were moves “on the metropolitan checkerboard” to thwart heavyhanded annexation suits by Norfolk and Portsmouth. Public votes in favor of the mergers were resounding.

But it must have been strange, going to bed in one place and waking up in another.

Fifty years ago . . . .

I haven’t been here that long. Just two decades, in fact. And a lot of you know more about old Virginia Beach and old Chesapeake than I. But here’s a few things I’ve learned.

For one thing there were probably more general stores, where you could get everything you needed and conversation at the same time – over potbelly stoves, I’ll bet – than shopping centers. And maybe more moonshine stills than churches.

There were mostly farm fields, and lots of swampy low lands, with ruler-straight two-lane roads that were perfect as drag strips. Think old Princess Anne Road. They were also handy for escaping from state and federal revenue agents. Did I mention illegal whiskey? Old Norfolk County was once thought to be a bootlegger’s paradise.

But there was also the beginning of a population explosion. Soldiers and sailors returning from World War II and the Korean War were, with their families, buying up homes in new subdivisions. In the New Year’s Eve paper, developers of King’s Grant neighborhood, not far from the near the new Princess Anne High School, were touting new split-level homes for $21,750 “and up.”

There was no longer passenger train service to the Beach. But you could still take a ferry from Little Creek to Kiptopeke.

If you didn’t have a New Year’s Eve party to go to, you could see Elvis Presley as “Kid Gallahad” at the Shore Drive-in Theater. Or Walt Disney’s “Lady and the Tramp” at the Grand in South Norfolk.

You could also just stay home and be thankful we weren’t in a war, at least not then. Headlines in those late December days told of amphibious ships returning from blockade duty off Cuba. The missile crisis was over.

Most of the big bands had gone from the Oceanfront hotels, it seems, but little bands were taking their place. In mid-summer you could hear the Chesapeake Bay Bearcats, a Dixieland band, at the Surfrider at 4^th and Atlantic. And you could go roller skating at the Virginia Beach Civic Center.

From what I can gather, some in Princess Anne County were sad to see that graceful old name go. Many older Beach residents still say they live there.

But I can’t say I’d blame Norfolk County and South Norfolk for wanting a change. Just think: Old Norfolk County, which had nothing to do with the city of Norfolk, had its county seat and courthouse in Portsmouth! It hurts my head to explain that.

Furthermore, South Norfolk, a relative new city in the shadow of its northern namesake, was being threatened by annexation lawsuits which, if successful, would have left it surrounded by – Norfolk. That’s right. Big Brother was about to swallow Little Brother. The sound of people rushing to the polls to consolidate – and later change the name to Chesapeake – must have been thunderous

.

Well, belatedly, happy birthday, Virginia Beach; happy birthday, Chesapeake. Now if we could just figure out what to call all of these separate cities. . . .

Next week: a modest suggestion.