Truckin' on the Western Branch

CHURCHLAND Now a busy suburb, Churchland owes its heritage—as well as its nickname—to the truckers, those independent, industrious people who nurtured their families and futures by nurturing “truck,” crops of vegetables and fruit to ship to markets in the cities to the north. Those folks gravitated toward the village of Churchland—the community-gathering spot with the post office, a blacksmith, a granary, A.W. Johnson’s store, the schools and churches and, at different times, a gas station, Griffin’s shop, Speers Restaurant, The Trucker Burger, Mr. Quick’s, Spruill’s Store, a confectionary, the cannery and more.

David Williamson in front of C. C. Bucks service station.

Diane and David Williamson in front of the cannery.

Stella Burton Williamson Stella Burton Williamson, born in January 1926, and her family moved to Churchland from Cradock in 1932 when she was six years old. My father, George Burton, worked for the government at St. Juliens and then at Pig Point, at the Nansemond Ordinance Depot where he made $26 a week. When we moved to Churchland it looked like a forest out here with only a few other houses between our home, where Royal Farms is now, and the Churchland Bridge. Our two-story house had five rooms and a path, a large yard and lots of trees. To go to the Churchland school we had to walk between Tom the blacksmith’s and a three-story general store. We walked home for lunch—a fried, sliced sweet potato and milk. We had five kids in the family and it was the Depression so we just about lived off sweet potatoes. Every payday Daddy would buy half-soles and glue to fix our shoes. We went barefoot most of the summer except for church. In September we all got a new pair of shoes. We had a garden with tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, corn. Everybody was poor. We had a 1929 model A Ford that got tired so we stopped going to Monumental Methodist and went to Centenary instead.

Stella Williamson. Image by Sheally

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