Millionaire’s Row (August Editor’s Note)

I remember the first time I visited Danville, Virginia.

I came into town from Richmond for a job interview.

I don’t remember the trip, except for when I reached Millionaire’s Row on Main Street. Physically, I was in a car, driving. Emotionally, I was back in Richmond, back in time, to my childhood and the 3300 block of Hanover Avenue. My beloved grandmother had lived there, in Richmond’s museum district (also called The Fan due to how the streets fanned out), for most of my childhood.

I loved that house and my many visits there. The glass in her windows was wavy and old. Everything was old, beautiful, and rare to my child-eyes. I loved her street, with the old sidewalks that were often losing battles with oaks. The exterior of every house had marvelous features. All the homes were tall and narrow. Columns held up porches. Swirls and scrolls adorned cornices. It was so different from the 1970s suburbia where I lived.

Driving up Main Street that morning, I was in awe. Here was another place like the 3300 block of The Fan. Old, beautiful homes, one after another. I marveled while attempting to drive safely. It felt like nostalgia for a place I had never been. It was the comfort of walking back into Gran’s house, with the exhilaration of a new adventure. How could all of these homes be in one place, a place that maybe, if I got the job, I could live in?

I arrived at my destination, to be interviewed by staff who may soon be my colleagues. Questions about myself and the job I expected and was ready for.

Then came the question “What do you think of Danville?”, with a tone and facial expression that said clearly, “It’s a shithole, right?”

This was my first introduction to the idea that the way that I saw Danville was not the way that everyone saw Danville.

It was an orienting, and galvanizing experience.

Danville became everything to me, exactly what I needed. But people didn’t believe me. I had to work to convince people that I was in Danville by choice, and I loved it.

When I meet someone like Maurie Van Buren, I go “Ahh, they get it.”

When I meet someone who lives in Danville by choice, my enthusiasm, my gushing, finds a home. It’s like meeting a fellow fan at ComiCon. When I first met Maurie, she immediately launched into the beauty of Danville’s built environment. As a fellow cornices-nerd, I agree.

If you love Danville, you get it. You know what I’m feeling when I brag about this city. And if you don’t get it, take a look at Maurie’s story. Then take a look around.

[A version of this post appeared as the Editor’s Note in the August 2022 edition of Evince Magazine.]