These three beagles are among the 4,000 to be transported to rescue groups across the United States. The Humane Society of the United States (HSUS) is coordinating the process. KEVIN WOLF/AP Images for HSUS
Nearly 100 beagles bred for laboratory research at a facility in Virginia are now set to be rehomed in North Carolina.
Triangle Beagle Rescue of North Carolina in Raleigh welcomed 79 dogs from the Envigo facility in Cumberland, Virginia, Tuesday. They are among more than 4,000 to be released from the site after a court ruled the company repeatedly violated animal welfare regulations.
The Humane Society of the United States is coordinating the placement of the dogs to rescue groups across the country. In a Facebook post, Triangle Beagle Rescue said the new intakes more than doubled the number of pets in their care.
The group doesn’t have a shelter or full-time staff members, so volunteers transported the dogs, arranged vet care, and placed them in new foster homes. Foster families were all trained to manage the unique needs of animals from this background.
The organization said donors provided leashes, collars, and crates for each beagle. The dogs are not yet available for adoption. The group says more updates will be provided on their social media pages.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
The letter on this chimney on Carver School Road matches the original homeowner's initial. KERI BROWN/WFDD
For the latest in WFDD's series Carolina Curious, we head to the Carver School Road community in East Winston-Salem. Listener Kayla Forrest moved to the area a couple years ago and something in the neighborhood caught her eye.
“I noticed that when I was walking my dog that there are a number of houses that have letters on them, on the chimneys in particular it seems, so I was just wondering what those letters represent or what they are for,” says Forrest.
WFDD’s Keri Brown takes us back in time to find out.
A tour of the neighborhood On a warm and humid summer morning, Kayla Forrest is excited about showing me around the area. There’s a new community center that recently opened and it’s hard to miss the large bright yellow and blue rock that sits in front of Carver High School.
A home in the Carver School Road community in Winston-Salem. KERI BROWN/WFDD
"I really have enjoyed living in this community, and you know the high school has a rich history to it too," says Forrest. "I’m just interested in learning more about the history of the neighborhood itself."
As we walk along the roadway, Forrest stops to point out the brick masonry on a nearby chimney.
“So see over here there's this house that has an 'H' on the chimney. You can see the 'H' there.”
A few houses down a large "C" adorns another brick chimney, and there’s also one with the letters "H-O-P." The masonry on each house is unique, and all of the letters were on older homes.
Learning more I started researching and making calls to historical societies, the Forsyth County Public Library and the city’s planning department. Unfortunately, no one had a clear answer.
But local historian Heather Fearnbach gave some historical context. She says embellishment on masonry chimneys — decorative patterns, motifs, or letters — was very common during the mid-20th century.
The difficult thing is that most of the masons who would have been working during this time period are no longer living.
After a few phone calls however, I was able to connect with 81-year-old Hugh Smith of Winston-Salem.
A family connection “My family was involved in home construction,” says Smith.
His grandfather was a carpenter and helped build houses in the community in the 1940s and 50s. Smith says at that time, there weren’t a lot of homes in this predominantly Black neighborhood in East Winston.
KERI BROWN/WFDD
Smith thinks the chimney letters stand for the American dream:
“After World War II, a lot of, a number of GIs came home or back to the area and they were able to build homes and in building their homes they wanted to put a mark or a symbol on their home that that was their home," says Smith. "So what they had the brick mason to do was build a place in the brickwork on the chimney — the first initial of their last name.”
A trip back to 1946 To find out more about Smith’s insight, I headed to the hub for public records: the Forsyth County Register of Deeds. That’s where I met Timothy Williams, who manages the real estate and indexing division.
When asked whether he’s ever encountered this question:
“In 27 years, no ma'am, I have not come across the question. This is a first,” says Williams.
We begin with an online search using the address of the home with the "H" on the chimney.
“So, you can see each individual owner. There was a book and page number for each owner for the deed that was recorded for that particular property, which was great, so you can connect all of the previous owners without flaw and without question," says Williams. "It’s just, it's a clear title. You can see it all unfold all right out in front of you.”
Our online search only took us to 1986 and without a letter match. But that was just the beginning. Williams points out the block and lot number for that parcel of land and we head over to the microfilm machine.
We went all the way back to 1946. Harry Truman was president. It was a year of labor strikes, and those born then were the first of the baby-boom generation. And then we find what we are looking for.
“There’s an 'H' on the chimney and in 1946 we did find that Huntley is the owner, was the owner at that particular time," says Williams. "So Huntley purchased the property in 1941, but he purchased it, just the land, in 1941 and then he built the home in 1946."
It’s a match! We kept going and plugged in a different address a few houses down, and…found the same result — the letters represented the original homeowners’ initial.
They prove that history and the stories of our neighborhoods are all around us and can sometimes be found in unexpected places.
Follow WFDD's Keri Brown on Twitter @kerib_news
Story does not include AP content
Housing Human Interest Normal Tweet
At its 2022 conference in Seattle, Public Media Journalists Association announced its annual award winners honoring exemplary work done in the calendar year 2021. This year, 221 awards were presented to 101 organizations. The awards recognize the best work in public media journalism from across the country.
WFDD won in the following categories:
Audience Engagement Program (1st)
Investigative Reporting (1st)
As Hydroponics Project Languishes, Questions Remain About City Oversight And Spending
Multi-Media Presentation (1st)
Dispatches From Within
Series (2nd)
Dispatches from Within
Audio Scripting (2nd)
Carolina Curious: Are there old-growth forests in North Carolina?
Breaking News (2nd)
Winston-Salem School Shooting
“It is exhilarating to be recognized among our colleagues for our work at WFDD. Our reporters have offered critical coverage over the past year, whether it was breaking news events, navigating the pandemic, or shining a spotlight on stories that would otherwise go untold,” says News Director Emily McCord. “We are very grateful for this honor.”
Stations compete against others with similar-sized newsrooms. Overall, judges reviewed over 1500 entries. WFDD competes in the Division A category representing organizations with 8-15 news staff members. PMJA, formerly PRNDI, supports, empowers, and advocates for journalists working in public media.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
In this May 2022 image provided by NOAA, sand tiger sharks swim next to the USS Monitor's armor belt, 16 miles off North Carolina. Despite being on the seafloor since 1862, the first-of-its-kind ship remains in “an excellent state of preservation,” according to Tane Renata Casserley, resource protection and permit coordinator at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Monitor National Marine Sanctuary. (NOAA via AP)
One of the nation’s most revered military shipwrecks was visited in May by a NOAA-backed team and they made a surprising discovery 16 miles off North Carolina.
The Civil War ironclad USS Monitor is apparently refusing to surrender to the forces of nature. Despite being on the seafloor since 1862, the first-of-its-kind ship remains in “an excellent state of preservation,” according to Tane Renata Casserley, resource protection and permit coordinator at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Monitor National Marine Sanctuary.
That’s all the more surprising given Navy divers made significant intrusions into the shipwreck in 2002, when they recovered the highly prized turret and other artifacts for preservation, he said.
“The wreck is in an astounding condition after being on the seafloor for 160 years and weathering all of the environmental conditions off Cape Hatteras, including exceedingly strong currents and hurricanes,” Casserley told McClatchy News.
“During those (2002) projects, it was necessary to cut into the ironclad’s armorbelt, hull, and deck to gain access to the turret since the shipwreck was on top of it. The question for us at NOAA was, did those cuts into the shipwreck cause further deterioration? Would we see significant changes caused by these actions today?”
The answer to those questions “was a resounding ‘No’,” he said.
It’s a revelation that begs explanation, and Casserley has a theory.
The USS Monitor was visited as part of the Valor in the Atlantic expedition, which sent a remotely operated camera to explore multiple ships sunk during the Civil War and World War II.
The USS Monitor was the oldest and most important of them, as the first U.S. warship built with a revolutionary rotating gun turret, NOAA reports.
Monitor sank on New Year’s Eve in 1862, in a region off North Carolina known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic, due to an estimated 2,000 shipwrecks. Sixteen U.S. sailors were lost in the sinking, historians say. “The waves grew and the wind howled. With each pitch and roll, shock waves ravaged the crew and the hull of the little ship,” according to a NOAA report.
“Leaks developed, flooding the engines and reducing steam pressure needed for propulsion. The crew tried using pumps and even bailing with buckets, but the distress was too great. ... The turret was the only escape hatch from below and as the men attempted dashing across the deck many of them were swept into the unknown by the treacherous waves.”
The Monitor was rediscovered in 1973 — “lying upside down in 230 feet of water” — by the Duke University Research Vessel Eastward and efforts to protect the first-of-its-kind vessel began almost immediately, NOAA reports.
In 1975, the USS Monitor site became “the nation’s first national marine sanctuary,” a move that intends to protect and preserve it as an important part of the “nation’s maritime heritage.”
The Valor in the Atlantic expedition May 15-25 counted as “the first examination of the site” since 2002, and Casserley feared it would show the turret recovery project led to advanced deterioration.
Finding otherwise has left the scientists looking for explanations, and Casserley thinks the “robustness of Monitor’s construction” continues to defend it.
“That same iron armor that deflected cannonballs fired at point-blank range and even collisions ... has now contributed to its longevity on the seafloor,” Casserley says.
“That same iron hull and armorbelt built to withstand the rigors of war, has now enabled Monitor to provide a stable habitat in its new role as an island of life. It truly was incredible to see the transformation at the bottom of the ocean. There was often so much marine life on Monitor it was difficult to see the shipwreck itself.”
A remotely operated camera examined only the exterior, so questions remain about what’s happening inside of the vessel, he said.
The expedition team, which partnered with the Global Foundation for Ocean Exploration, left the wreck realizing much of it remains unaltered, offering an extraordinary opportunity for marine archaeologists and historians.
“This area is a time capsule back to 1862 to learn more about how the crew lived and worked aboard a prototype ironclad warship,” Casserley said.
“In some regards is in better structural shape than the majority of shipwrecks from the same time period as well as extending to the WWII-era shipwrecks. The bottom line is USS Monitor will be here for generations to come to share its stories of heroism.”
Story is all AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
WFDD has been recognized by the Radio Television Digital News Association (RTDNA) with five Regional Edward R. Murrow Awards for its work in 2021, and will advance to the National Murrow Awards competition. The Murrow Awards are considered among the most prestigious awards in broadcast and digital news.
The station was honored in the Breaking News Coverage and Continuing News Coverage categories for its reporting on the Mount Tabor High School shooting. WFDD also won awards for Excellence In Writing for Carolina Curious: Are there old-growth forests in North Carolina? and Hard News, with its story on what changed locally one year after the death of George Floyd, whose murder prompted protests across the country and in the Triad.
"We are incredibly humbled that RTDNA has showcased the work WFDD's newsroom has done over the past year," says News Director Emily McCord. "We have a team that is dedicated to the highest quality local journalism, and we feel privileged every day to serve our community and are grateful for their support which makes it possible for us to remain mission-focused every day."
WFDD also was awarded Excellence in Innovation for Dispatches From Within, a 7-part series from Radio 101, part of the station's Hive® education program. In addition to an after-school offering, Radio 101 is embedded as a for-credit, honors-level class at R. J. Reynolds High School, taught by WFDD’s Hive® program manager, Gabriel Maisonnave. In the fall of 2021, the 19 students enrolled in this class spent the semester doing in-depth reporting on issues related to youth mental health, all from a youth perspective. These youth reporters, aged 14-17, surveyed over 1,600 other students in the area, and wrote, recorded, and produced seven stories that help paint a picture of the state of youth mental health. “Receiving this award is an immense honor for Hive® and WFDD; it highlights the importance of giving a platform to those directly affected by this issue. We hope that the series creates an impetus for having more of these conversations and helps to alleviate the stigma surrounding discussion of mental health,” said Maisonnave.
WFDD’s Assistant General Manager, Molly Davis, commented, “Truth be told, we get very excited about Murrow Award announcements. It’s validating to be recognized for the hard work our team does. But more than that, this recognition is a reflection of the trust our community has in us and the place of value we hold in their lives. Because without our listeners, and the support they provide, we would not be able to do this work. These awards belong to our listeners as much as they do to us.”
RTDNA has been recognizing outstanding achievements in electronic journalism with the Edward R. Murrow Awards since 1971. Award recipients demonstrate the spirit of excellence that Murrow set as a standard for the profession of broadcast and digital journalism. WFDD competes in the Large Market Radio division in Region 8, which includes North Carolina, South Carolina, West Virginia, Tennessee, and Kentucky. The five awards won by WFDD represent 33% of all awards given in this region and category. Regional winners automatically advance to the national Edward R. Murrow Awards competition in October.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
PAUL GARBER/WFDD
There are three Union Cross communities in the Triad area, one each in Forsyth, Yadkin and Surry counties. Listener Robert Myers of Kernersville had a question for Carolina Curious about the origins of the one in southeastern Forsyth County:
I have lived near Union Cross for many years, and I always wondered, where did the community get its name? I’ve asked many people in the community, but no one seems to know the answer.
The North Carolina Gazetteer — an index of the state’s geographic features — has a history for the name of only one of those three communities. Yadkin County’s Union Cross was apparently named for a Quaker Friends Meeting back in the 1880s.
So could Forsyth’s name also come from a Friends Meeting place?
Not likely, according to Quaker history authorities. The Friends didn’t start using the term Union Cross until the time the Yadkin community was named, decades after Forsyth’s community was founded.
Michelle DeLapp is chairwoman of the board for the Wachovia Historical Society. Using Moravian archives, she found references to Union Cross in records dating to the early 1860s, well before the Quakers used the term. The timing would also seem to rule out any connection to the Union Army in the Civil War.
Forsyth County’s Union Cross appears to date back to the days of a plank road in the mid-1800s that ran from Fayetteville, through High Point, and up to the Moravian community of Bethania.
DeLapp says the name may simply be a reference to an important convergence of roads during the middle of the 19th Century.
“I believe it had something to do with the location of the road,” she says. “It was an intersection between High Point Road and what is known as Union Cross Road now — it was kind of an intersection. And it was kind of a main road.”
Today, Union Cross is the site of an elementary school and a county park.
Union Cross wasn’t the only prominent use of the term “Union” in Forsyth County.
The Union Republican newspaper used it during its run from the 1870s to the 1940s, and Winston-Salem’s train stop was called Union Station when it was built almost 100 years ago.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
Photo courtesy of Adobe Stock/vesperstock
Two Latino candidates, one Democrat and one Republican, are running for a position on the Winston-Salem/Forsyth County Schools Board of Education, and they’re focusing on the same issue: how to lower the number of Latino school dropouts.
For the 2020-2021 school year, Latino students had the highest dropout rate in Forsyth County at 39 percent.
Jason Lucero and Jennifer Castillo are the only two Latino candidates, out of a pool of 11 candidates running for the board in District 02 for Forsyth County. For Winston Salem/Forsyth County Schools, nine members are elected from two districts in the county.
Lucero is running as a Republican. Originally from California, he now lives as a single parent with his daughter in Forsyth County.
"There's so many people that don't know how to get to the resources or don't have the tenacity to go keep digging until they get the answers they need," says Lucero. "I thought, if I'm dealing with that, how many others are as well? And so for me, I felt like I could be a voice for those people because I don’t give up."
Lucero says that his background in foster care and not having a traditional childhood really opened his eyes to the adversity in the school system. He was not adopted by a Latino family, but he grew up around the community, and as a Latino, he says he is definitely trying to reach out to this group.
"The biggest thing for me is going and knocking on doors. I've gone door to door just talking to people, just listening to what's going on," says Lucero.
Lucero has had some unwelcome attention surrounding his campaign after an article in the Winston-Salem Journal reported on a federal tax lien he owed of over $35,000 from 2017. Lucero says the issue has been resolved and says he wants to refocus the conversation on why he’s running.
He’s noticed that a prominent issue adding to Latino dropout rates is the lack of tutors for kids who need to master English. One of his priorities is to hire more bilingual teachers and personnel in schools. Dropout rates among Latino children are an issue that his opponent, Jennifer Castillo, says is one of her primary concerns as well.
Castillo was born and raised in North Carolina. She’s currently the only candidate running as a Democrat from District 2.
"I believe that we need some kind of Hispanic representation on the Board of Education," says Castillo. "Latinos are going to be the majority demographic group in the Forsyth County school system here in the next few years. And so I believe we need some kind of representation."
Castillo is heavily involved with the Latino community. She’s of Mexican descent and ever since she was a kid she has been involved in politics. Today, she’s the founder and executive director of the Jennifer E. Castillo Foundation, which offers support services for the Latin American community in Winston-Salem.
Castillo graduated from the University of North Carolina Greensboro, and as a kid attended Robert B. Glenn High School.
"I actually came out of Glenn High School. And Glenn High School covers a zip code, which is to 27107, that's got a really high Hispanic population," says Castillo.
Located in Kernersville, only 75 percent of students at Robert B. Glenn High School graduate in four years, and Latinos have the lowest graduation rate, only 66 percent.
"Yeah, so that's actually one of the primary focuses I have is addressing the high school dropout rate in Forsyth county among Hispanic students," says Castillo.
Both Lucero and Castillo agree that there has to be a way to help Latino students finish high school. They have different plans, but the end goal is the same.
Lucero is mainly focusing on lessening the English barrier in schools for bilingual children and earning the trust of the community.
Lucero says he thinks "spending some more time with tutoring and grants somehow to develop learning English better, that can be one source of things. I think another source is being engaged with them and understanding."
Castillo, on the other hand, is currently focusing on the support for staff, not only teachers, and the direct financial support that the school district can provide to the families and students who might be struggling.
"We could try to offer some more supportive type of financial assistance if we can't increase their pay," says Castillo. "I think that we definitely need to have some kind of fund developed so that we can also help people that are struggling to pay their bills, to pay their rent, and things like that."
Both candidates do agree that there needs to be more bilingual representation in Forsyth County schools and that having a member of the Latino community on the school board could create a bridge between the schools and the solution to the problem.
This story was produced by a partnership between WFDD and La Noticia. You can read this story in Spanish at La Noticia.
Eileen Rodriguez is a reporter for both WFDD and La Noticia through Report for America, where she covers COVID-19's impact in the Latino Communities.
Periodista de La Noticia y 88.1 WFDD, Eileen Rodríguez reporta el impacto de COVID-19 en la comunidad Latina en Carolina del Norte. Rodríguez es miembro del cuerpo de periodistas de Report for America 2021-2022
Story does not include AP content
Race Politics & Government Human Interest Normal Tweet
Volunteers helping people in the community in latest FaithAction ID event at Iglesia Cristiana Sin Fronteras. Photo by Daniel Sostaita
Local organization FaithAction is holding events to help those who don’t have documentation to get identification. Community members say this helps them access their medication and address safety concerns.
At a recent event, Iglesia Cristiana Sin Fronteras opened its doors for people in the community to obtain or renew their FaithAction ID cards. The ID isn’t issued by the state. It’s an initiative by the local group FaithAction and is accepted by specific government agencies in at least 10 counties in North Carolina, including Guilford, Alamance, and Forsyth.
The ID has many benefits but one of the most important is that it’s accepted at local pharmacies because of a partnership with Atrium Health and Novant Health.
For Paula Vargas Miranda, the identification has been a lifeline. After learning she had cancer, she was terrified of not being able to pick up her prescription due to lack of documentation. During a cancer consultation, a representative told her about FaithAction ID.
“I can use it at the doctor, at the hospital, when police officers stop me,” explains Vargas Miranda. “If I want to enroll my kids in school, it helps me with all of that.”
FaithAction charges a $10 fee for the ID, and requires proof of name, address, and date of birth. These events require reservation due to COVID and happen every two to three months. Vaccinations and food are also available at most sites.
This story was produced by a partnership between WFDD and La Noticia. You can read this story in Spanish at La Noticia.
Eileen Rodriguez is a reporter for both WFDD and La Noticia through Report for America, where she covers COVID-19's impact in the Latino Communities.
Periodista de La Noticia y 88.1 WFDD, Eileen Rodríguez reporta el impacto de COVID-19 en la comunidad Latina en Carolina del Norte. Rodríguez es miembro del cuerpo de periodistas de Report for America 2021-2022
Story does not include AP content
Refugees Health & Safety Human Interest Immigration Normal Tweet
Puddles splashing and having fun after a hard day's work. KERI BROWN/WFDD
A rural water company in Davidson County has a new team member to help with water conservation efforts. And this leak-detecting canine is living up to her name: Puddles.
Puddles is a two-year-old chocolate Labrador retriever. She's a working dog that saves her bark for the job but greets people with a wagging tail and lots of sniffs, occasionally asking for a belly rub.
It’s a weekday afternoon and workers at Davidson Water in Welcome, North Carolina are preparing to take their newest employee out in the field.
Puddles, the leak-detecting dog for Davidson Water. KERI BROWN/WFDD
“Puddles has been trained to smell chlorine, and we introduce chlorine into our water at the water plant for disinfection," says Dale Draughn,the meter services supervisor with Davidson Water.
The rural water system serves nearly 60,000 households primarily in Davidson and Randolph Counties.
“A lot of times a customer will have a leak that doesn’t surface, so they have a high water bill and they don’t know where the leak is located. So this is a great customer service to find that leak for them and to save their water bill,” says Draughn.
Davidson Water officials say this all started about three years ago after a visit from the CEO of Central Arkansas Water. The utility shared their success with a new leak detecting dog. Draughn says they wanted to try the same thing, so they reached out to North Carolina-basedCultured Canine for help in finding the right dog and for training.
After a few auditions, this playful pup won them over.
Davidson Water estimates more than 60 million gallons of water are lost per year on the consumer side from leaks. Over the past year, Puddles has already detected dozens of leaks, some as far as four feet deep.
It’s important to keep Puddles prepared even when there aren’t a lot of calls for service. So the crew heads a few miles up the road from the water department to an outdoor practice field. Puddles is already in work mode and lets them know she’s ready for the chance to find a leak. She starts barking even before they pull into the gravel driveway.
Draughn and Puddles’ handler Sean Griffin waste no time in preparing the training site.
”What he’s doing," Draughn says, "is that he’s going to hook that hose to that hydrant right there and then he has a selection valve where he can choose three different locations in the yard to make the water come up. So he is creating an artificial leak, then Puddles will be able to search the whole area, and hopefully, she will hit on the one that he selected where the water is coming out of.“
Puddles begins her work at the training site. KERI BROWN/WFDD
Meanwhile, Puddles is bursting with energy. Her body language changes and she’s determined to find the trickle of a leak that Griffin created.
“Puddles, when she paws at the ground and she digs deeper and deeper, she’s trying to get closer to the smell of chlorine and she’s indicating on the smell of chlorine, so when I know she’s right and she stays on it, then I will say a word that rewards her and then she knows that she gets her ball, so she comes off of it and I throw ball with her,” says Griffin.
After several minutes, her sniffing becomes more intense and you can tell she’s on to something.
"So she just said — that one — how she scratched at it but left it, she was saying that’s not the leak. But see how she is staying on this one is her saying this is it. Give me my toy."
Puddles then begins digging wildly on the spot. She found the leak and gets her reward.
Puddles is great at what she does, Griffin says, but the job can be difficult depending on the terrain, which in a rural region can include thick woods and overgrown yards. Because it can be difficult, Griffin says it’s important to stay excited throughout the process. It’s a rewarding job that requires a lot of dedication on and off of the clock.
"The most challenging thing for me was not treating her like a pet," he says. "I’m always playing with dogs in customers' yards and stuff and so the hardest part for me was treating her like a working dog."
There are lots of benefits to having a chlorine-sniffing canine on the Davidson Water team. But the biggest one, Griffin says, is the joy that Puddles brings to the office and the community. Lately, she’s been making appearances at schools and other events.
"Everyone loves to see her in the morning. Just coming in it’s like an extra cup of coffee. It gets everyone excited and in a good mood."
After a successful day in the training field, Puddles heads to a nearby pool of water left after a recent rain. She playfully blows bubbles with her nose and paws a little to see if maybe, just maybe, she can convince Griffin to throw one more ball her way.
Follow WFDD's Keri Brown on Twitter @kerib_news
Story does not include AP content
Environment Human Interest Normal Tweet
Interns show their enthusiasm at the wrapping space at the Diaper Bank of North Carolina's warehouse in Winston-Salem. Photo courtesy of Michelle Old.
The Diaper Bank of North Carolina is starting to reopen its Triad Branch warehouse in Winston-Salem after a nearby chemical fire forced them to close their doors early last month.
The Greater Triad Branch is located beside the Winston Weaver fertilizer plant. The organization says their building on Indiana Avenue sustained roof damage after the recent fire at the Weaver site.
Over a million diapers and hygiene products had to be set aside and have been off-limits ever since. The Diaper Bank is still waiting for them to be tested for contamination. And it’s unclear when the roof will be fully repaired.
Michelle Old, CEO and founder of the organization, says there’s been a lot of cleaning at the site and a portion of the warehouse is now reopened. The Diaper Bank continues to send products from its Durham location to serve the Triad.
“Everything is in limbo," she says. "And every day that we wait means that we have to put funds towards buying more product and at the same time gas prices have gone on, so we're bringing in diapers every single week to serve the community and that is costing us twice as much as it did before.”
Old says they currently need more space but are locked into their lease for another year.
She says they’re still looking for more volunteers to help package diapers and are accepting donations.
The Diaper Bank of North Carolinadistributes over 100,000 diapers monthly in the Triad, which means they serve about 2,000 babies each month.
Follow WFDD's Keri Brown on Twitter @kerib_news
Story does not include AP content
Poverty Human Interest Normal Tweet
Gustavo and Andres Herrera at Fire Station 1 in Winston-Salem. EILEEN RODRIGUEZ/WFDD/LA NOTICIA
Salsa music and laughter fill Winston-Salem Fire Department Fire Station 1 on a recent February afternoon. The team sits around a table that’s set between two fire trucks in the garage. They joke with one another, trade recipes, and enjoy the moment together. They say they’re family and this is how they balance the gravity of their responsibility.
For father and son Gustavo and Andres Herrera, their ties run even deeper. They were among the Winston-Salem firefighters who battled the Winston Weaver fertilizer plant fire that broke out on January 31. It lasted for days, displacing residents within the one-mile evacuation zone and putting emergency responders in harm's way.
As soon as Gustavo Herrera walks into the station, everyone welcomes him.
The team calls Gustavo “Papi,” a term of endearment because of the respect they all have for him. Andres, who works at Fire Station 1, draws his father in for a hug.
"One of the things that I admire from this fire department is with all the problems they have, the complaints you have, they always go one extra mile, always. But they love what they do, so that’s part of the job," says Gustavo Herrera.
Firefighters work on the blaze at the Winston Weaver fertilizer plant that began on January 31, 2022. Photo courtesy of the City of Winston-Salem The father and son migrated to the U.S. from Colombia 22 years ago. Gustavo worked as a firefighter back in his country, and then when he decided to move, he had to start the process to become a firefighter all over again.
"It was a little difficult," says Gustavo Herrera. "We created the fire department in the city where we lived and when we came here, we learned a lot of techniques and styles from the United States. And that part was easy. But to adapt the system to the ideals in the area it was a little tough, but we got it."
Gustavo is now captain of Engine 1 and Hazmat 1. His son Andres followed in his footsteps and decided to become a firefighter too.
They work for different branches in the WSFD. But Gustavo says Andres is always on his mind.
"To me is a little stressful sometimes ... because we know the risk," says Gustavo Herrera. "I mean, as soon you jump in that truck and the lights are on and the sirens are on, they’re exposed. Something can happen. So I’m glad we’re not working together because it would be worse."
The night the Weaver fire broke out, both father and son were off. After Andres got the notification on his phone, he immediately called his dad to talk about the fire since Gustavo is familiar with dangerous chemicals and has dealt with fires like this before.
"So we talked about it. Just talking to him, like, 'it caught on fire I can’t believe it.' We’ve been in there previously for different calls, and then that night I came in to fill a truck. I guess they hired for overtime and we picked up a shift," says Andres Herrera.
Gustavo got there the next morning since hazmat had to assess the situation and the chemicals that caught fire.
"They evacuated the fire, so from the hazmat point of view, we have to work with other agencies and start getting the drones ... and we started figuring out 'this is getting serious and serious' with the time that’s passing and passing," says Gustavo Herrera. "Well, we were lucky."
The scariest part for them both was the potential of an explosion. The second day they had to work on evacuation, assessing the situation, and also providing information to people who didn’t want to leave their homes, even though they knew the danger.
Young Andres Herrera, who later followed in his father's footsteps and is a firefighter in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Photo courtesy of the Herrera family.
"The potential maybe of what could happen," says Andres Herrera. "But we try not to worry about that stuff because we have to be there to help."
"That moment was really stressful," Gustavo Herrera adds. "When they cleared the area, even in that moment they knew it was high risk. And the next day when we saw the drones, the pictures ... oh my god that second day was very stressful. We were expecting anything."
Gustavo not only had to deal with the chemical evaluation, but he also had to inform the Spanish-speaking community through interviews and media requests. He says evacuating everyone was overwhelming for both the police and the firefighters, but the language barrier, the lack of trust in governmental entities, and the fear of uncertainty made the job extremely difficult.
"One engine covered 13 miles alone telling people 'Hey you guys need to evacuate,' and this was just them telling people you guys need to evacuate. The police did that as well. The police was having overtime for people to come in. But it's hard because people don’t know, and it's hard to get that reach to everybody, people don’t want to leave their houses," Andres Herrera says.
Gustavo and Andres Herrera are two of the few Latino firefighters in the city. In the department’s latest cultural assessment, it reported that 3% of the force is made up of Hispanic people, even though currently the group makes up 15% of the city’s population. That report was published after the department came under scrutiny for the lack of diversity and racist incidents before.
"We came from countries where we don’t believe too much about what happens outside, but this is one of the big factors with the Hispanic community and we have to educate them, and that has been like that from a long time ago," says Gustavo Herrera.
"It's gotten a lot better," Andres Herrera says. "Back then it was not like this. There was no outreach whatsoever. We’re starting to see more people speak Spanish, which is good."
Both son and father agree that language plays a huge part in building trust.
"When you speak Spanish you have a connection to that person. I always feel more comfortable speaking to someone in Spanish. We can relate, there’s a connection. It's more meaningful," Andres Herrera says.
Gustavo Herrera adds that it's "a two-way release. You can see your crew, so you see that level of stress coming down."
Both Andres and Gustavo say that things are changing in the department and that usually every new incident shows the cracks that need to be mended — especially the Winston Weaver plant fire.
Andres Herrera says that it definitely was "a lot of learning. We’ve learned a lot from it — about the equipment they need, the equipment we need. I mean I’m sure they learned a lot about how to outreach people, how to communicate with the community better."
For them, this was a difficult situation, but they're trained to deal with harsh circumstances.
"If that happened tomorrow in another place, we’ll just do it the same. It's the job," says Gustavo Herrera.
"It's just part of the job," adds Andres Herrera. "You just do it."
This story was produced by a partnership between WFDD and La Noticia. You can read this story in Spanish at La Noticia.
Eileen Rodriguez is a reporter for both WFDD and La Noticia through Report for America, where she covers COVID-19's impact in the Latino Communities.
Periodista de La Noticia y 88.1 WFDD, Eileen Rodríguez reporta el impacto de COVID-19 en la comunidad Latina en Carolina del Norte. Rodríguez es miembro del cuerpo de periodistas de Report for America 2021-2022
Story does not include AP content
Health & Safety Human Interest Immigration Normal Tweet
Executive Director of Hogar del Inmigrante Connie Trejo. Eileen Rodriguez/WFDD
After the Winston Weaver fertilizer plant caught fire, many people in the vicinity had to evacuate with no emergency funds or plans. And for the Latino community, there were more challenges, including language barriers and the fear of asking for help. Many of them turned to local community organizations instead of government entities.
Hogar del Inmigrante, or The Immigrant Home, is a nonprofit organization that has provided social services for the Latino community in the Triad for many years. It's heavily involved in the community. So it was no surprise that when a fire broke out at the Weaver Fertilizer Plant, Connie Trejo was one of the first people residents called. She’s the executive director of the organization.
"A lot of our clients live in the vicinity of the fire plant, and obviously when the incident happened one of our clients called, and he was a senior citizen," said Trejo. "They were really scared and they were screaming, 'Miss Connie, please, come on, fire!' and I asked, 'What? Your house?' and they said, 'No, the fertilizer plant," said Trejo.
The day after the fire, Trejo posted a flier on social media asking for all members of the community who have been affected by the fire to contact the organization or go directly to them for emotional and financial support. But she wasn’t expecting so many people to come forward.
"People didn’t understand, it was chaos, nobody went to get them out, there were only firefighters and they didn’t speak Spanish," explained Trejo. "A lot of Hispanic people locked themselves in their homes because they didn’t understand."
One of the residents, Zoila Sevilla Ayala, said she knew what was going on thanks to her relatives who called her since they knew English. The next day, she saw the flier on Hogar del Inmigrante’s Facebook page.
"We went first and foremost to know what was going on and what was going to happen, and if the fire would have health repercussions. We went to receive information."
Sevilla Ayala didn’t know about the organization before, but since the incident has been staying current and keeping up with information from Hogar del Inmigrante, since she felt like it was one of the only places she could get help.
"We are a marginalized community because we are Latinos," explains a concerned Sevilla Ayala. "And I’ve seen that we haven’t been receiving the support we need. Now that I know that the nonprofit is there I feel supported, and protected, and I know I have somewhere to run. I wish there were more organizations like these."
Many turned to community organizations led by Latinos due to the language barrier, fear of prosecution due to a lack of documentation, and faster response time. Daniel Sostaita, the founder of Iglesia Cristiana Sin Fronteras, says the church was also a go-to place because of its involvement in the community and the bilingual information it can provide.
"It’s easier to call the church than the police, it's easier to call the Hispanic League than the county. They will understand in Spanish. They won’t ask for papers. People connect faster with people they trust and know. The government doesn’t have information in Spanish, the county doesn’t have a page in Spanish, or a direct line they could call in their mother tongue. So in case of an emergency, you want to speak to someone who understands you."
The trouble is, this puts an incredible strain on some of these resources, like Hogar Del Inmigrante. In total, over 450 people contacted the organization, which helped at least 200 families with funds. But the money is gone. It exhausted its funds due to the fire.
The City of Winston-Salem is trying to fill the gap. At a recent meeting, the city council approved a reimbursement of up to $1,000 to everyone who was affected by the Weaver fire.
An application fair is planned for March 9. You must bring receipts and show up in person. And if you don’t have them you can fill out a form to get a maximum of $300. For a lot of these families living paycheck to paycheck, that help can’t come soon enough.
This story was produced by a partnership between WFDD and La Noticia. You can read this story in Spanish at La Noticia.
Eileen Rodriguez is a reporter for both WFDD and La Noticia through Report for America, where she covers COVID-19's impact in the Latino Communities.
Periodista de La Noticia y 88.1 WFDD, Eileen Rodríguez reporta el impacto de COVID-19 en la comunidad Latina en Carolina del Norte. Rodríguez es miembro del cuerpo de periodistas de Report for America 2021-2022
Story does not include AP content
Health & Safety Human Interest Normal Tweet
Smoke billows from the Winston Weaver fertilizer plant. Screenshot courtesy of the City of Winston-Salem.
In the early hours of the Winston Weaver Fertilizer Plant fire, city officials began sending notifications to the public to evacuate a one-mile radius around the site, but little of that information was available in Spanish.
Just a little over 25 percent of the people in the area surrounding the Winston Weaver fertilizer plant are Hispanic residents. Vivian Perez Chandler is executive director of Asset Building Coalition of Forsyth County and found the lack of early information in Spanish alarming.
Perez Chandler immediately began to think about the community that lives within that one-mile radius. Perez Chandler explained her concern about the situation after "there was no information being shared in a language that they understood and spoke, knowing the gravity of a potential explosion."
She immediately contacted local Spanish-speaking organizations such as Mia magazine, Radio Onda de Amor, Qué Pasa, and Hola Carolina to get the message across. She also emailed the city and began to shadow as a volunteer reporter and interpreter. Perez Chandler says many in the community are worried about their health and there have been few recent updates. For now, Perez Chandler will continue translating items related to the fire, and the city plans to hire a bilingual contractor to translate information for future issues.
This story was produced by a partnership between WFDD and La Noticia. You can read this story in Spanish at La Noticia.
Eileen Rodriguez is a reporter for both WFDD and La Noticia through Report for America, where she covers COVID-19's impact in the Latino Communities.
Periodista de La Noticia y 88.1 WFDD, Eileen Rodríguez reporta el impacto de COVID-19 en la comunidad Latina en Carolina del Norte. Rodríguez es miembro del cuerpo de periodistas de Report for America 2021-2022
Story does not include AP content
Race News Human Interest Normal Tweet
Image courtesy of Siembra NC.
In December of last year, Jamison Mobile Home Park residents received a letter from property owner Lynn Anderson stating that they now had until March 2022 to vacate the properties. According to Siembra NC, an organization that advocates for the wellbeing of Latino communities, Greensboro Mayor Nancy Vaughan announced weeks later that residents now have until mid-June to work out a plan.
Although the extension has provided the residents with three more months, they still feel uncertain. Nikki Marín Baena, creative director of Siembra NC, says the families are currently in conversation with city officials and property financing organizations.
“Until June 19 when this property closes, our favorite option — the resident's favorite option — is still to be able to buy this mobile home park and stay in their home,” says Baena.
Baena says that the residents are trying to be realistic about what their options are. In October, three of the families found a different place to live, but the expenses were costly, and Baena says this isn’t something that all the residents can afford.
Story does not include AP content
Housing Human Interest Immigration Normal Tweet
Forsyth County has grown at the same rate as North Carolina over the past decade — 9%. Image courtesy of David Benbennick, Public domain via Wikimedia Commons. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Map_of_North_Carolina_highlighting_Forsyth_County.svg
Of all North Carolina counties, Forsyth’s demographics are the most representative of the state’s overall figures. That’s according to a new analysis from research center Carolina Demography.
The report looked at five factors to determine which county in North Carolina is closest to the state’s averages: racial composition, median age, median home value, median household income, and the percent of residents who hold at least a bachelor’s degree.
The counties were then ranked based on their difference from the state’s numbers in each category. Forsyth County was the closest overall.
The county has grown at the same rate as North Carolina over the past decade — 9%. And its average resident is 38.4 years old, just .3 off from the state’s number.
The latest census figures show that Forsyth is the fourth most populous county in the state, with the majority of its residents calling Winston-Salem home. Guilford is the third largest, preceded by Wake and Mecklenburg counties.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
North Carolina has been the nation's top producer of sweet potatoes since 1971. GERRY BROOME/AP
North Carolina is once again the nation’s top producer of sweet potatoes, a title it's held since 1971.
The state produced 1.7 billion pounds of sweet potatoes last year. That’s about 300 million pounds lower than the last few years, according to a report by research center Carolina Demography.
A wetter than usual start to the growing season in the state may account for some of the drop. Vegetable farmers in other parts of the country struggled with adverse weather last year too. Hurricane Laura in Louisiana and wildfires in much of the west led to lower yields.
Crop revenues did increase by about 16% from 2019. Sweet potatoes are the state’s third most valuable crop, behind soybeans and corn.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
David Campt addresses an audience in Chapel Hill on April 14, 2019. Photo credit: Ivan Saul Cutler.
This holiday season as families gather, the list of potentially heated conversation topics is long. Some might choose to ignore these issues altogether in the name of keeping the peace.
For those looking for productive conversation, public speaker and author David Campt has some practical suggestions. He directs The Dialogue Company, which focuses on increasing inclusion through transformative dialogue. He recently shared his tips for a happy holiday with WFDD’s David Ford.
Interview Highlights On initiating dialogue on potentially heated topics:
A critical factor is to cultivate a relaxation ritual beforehand. So, whether it's deep breathing, or progressive body relaxation, or closing your mind and imagining your favorite place, real or imaginary, what you want to do is to do something to actively relax yourself when you know you're about to have a tense conversation.
One thing that's useful to do actually is to do a compassion booster with the person, especially if it's a family member — you've had positive moments with them, you've seen them cry. Sometimes even thinking of them crying is useful or thinking of a positive moment you've had with them or thinking of an aspiration they have is useful thing to open your heart up, as well as relaxing. And those both are important to try to have a good conversation.
How to stay on topic:
A critical thing is to try to focus the conversation on people's experiences, not just their opinion. They tell you an opinion, you don't like their opinion, maybe give them a little more room for the opinion, but what you want to do is to shift to a 'why' question to a tell me what happened to you that make you think like that. Why do you think that, based on your experience, not based on some rationale, but based on something that happened to them. Tell me about some time that happened to you, that confirmed to you that you should see it that way. Conversations about experiences are more connecting than conversations just about opinions.
But the most important thing is if you're trying to help somebody see a problem, what you want to do is to try to figure out a way to talk about yourself as connected to that problem. If you're trying to help them see that there's a problem called racism, what you want to do is to be able to talk about how sometimes you find yourself occasionally having racist thoughts you're not proud of. You want to put yourself in the problem, so, it's a collective examination of a condition, not an accusation that's critical to moving hearts and minds.
On remaining humble:
Part of the reason why persuasive conversations can be so ineffective is because we come at people with a kind of condescending, superior attitude. There's this problem, and you're a part of it, as opposed to there's a problem in the world, and we can all be a part of it — sometimes I am — and trying to invite people to see that maybe they are sometimes. And I think that humility, and that vulnerability is critical.
And it's well known among people who study conflict resolution and persuasion that those types of strategies to focus on your connection before you challenge people is important. I call it the ABC rule: agreement before challenging. You want to make sure you do that and not just go right at how they're wrong. You want to give them a sense you think they're right about something before you try to invite new thinking.
EDITOR'S NOTE: This transcript was lightly edited for clarity.
Story does not include AP content
Race Human Interest Normal Tweet
Liam (in the grey shirt) volunteering at Peacehaven farms.
Martin Kane
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet
FILE - A child tries to break a Mexican Christmas piñata during a street "posada." (AP Photo/Marco Ugarte)
A holiday celebration rooted in the Latino community and Catholicism begins today. Christmas posadas take place over nine days to represent Mary and Joseph’s journey.
Las Posadas Navideñas, or Christmas Posadas, is a novenario, a celebration over nine days every year from December 16-24. Posadas directly translate to inns, since it’s a commemoration of Mary and Joseph’s journey to find a safe place for Jesus' birth.
Although the celebrations have changed throughout the years, usually people dress up as the saints or hold their pictures, and walk to the houses — or the house designated as inns— and gather to eat, dance, and break the pinata.
Lucila Ruvalcaba recently retired from ACAL de México. She works every year with different groups to organize the festivities. But COVID has made it difficult.
"I imagine that this year people will be getting together and there will be people who host posadas, just on a smaller scale, but having all the elements of celebration: the litany, the praying, the pinata, and if allowed, dancing," says Ruvalcaba.
The pandemic has also meant many celebrations will likely be an outside affair. Triad posada festivities include one in Gibsonville Public Library.
Story does not include AP content
Race Arts & Music Human Interest Normal Tweet
Megan McDonald, a student at West Forsyth High School, made this art and wrote the following statement. "The piece symbolizes the unity that the city of Winston-Salem displayed shortly after the events. The school supplies on top use a trompe-l'oeil effect and symbolize the innocence and youth of the victims. Spartan Strong. These words don’t mean much to people outside of Winston-Salem, North Carolina. But to my fellow students, parents, and teachers, 'Spartan Strong' means unity." Image courtesy of Megan McDonald.
WFDD's Radio 101 has chosen to use only the first name of the student in the following story due to the sensitive subject matter and to protect the student's privacy.
For Ben, and every other student at Mount Tabor High School, September 1 started like any other school day.
“I was at the career center first. So I had a couple of those tests out of the way. And then I went to Tabor, and I was just going to eat lunch like a normal day,” said Ben.
But just after noon, things quickly took a turn. What started as a fight quickly escalated and a student pulled out a gun and shot William Miller Jr.
“Everybody was getting up, and kind of going to go move towards it to watch it,” said Ben. “The administrator screamed that he had a gun. And so that's when everyone started running. And then I was like, 'oh,' and so then I was like, it took me a while to process it. But as soon as I knew what was going on, I instantly ran with them.”
This was the second time in a month that a gun had been fired at a school in North Carolina since the beginning of the school year. But this time, the gunshot was fatal.
Ben and his classmates were escorted out of the school by a S.W.A.T. team. They were reunited with their parents after what was probably one of the most traumatic days of their lives. A week later, they went back to school. And this is where this story really begins.
“We know that after a mass casualty event, whether it's one person or many, there are basically five elements that are impacted, but also, you can leverage for long-term recovery,” said Dr. Douglas Walker, chief program director at Mercy Family Center in St. Louis. “The first is the sense of safety. Without a safe environment, which we consider schools still to be, individuals cannot learn.”
The second element mentioned by Dr. Walker is a sense of calmness. This basically means being able to put your mind at ease. In other words, to turn off or dial down your flight-or-fight response. After a traumatic event like this, the brain becomes really sensitive to sounds or sights that can trigger memories of the event.
The third element is connectedness. “And that can be difficult in terms of shooting events because there are a lot of sides that can immediately be taken,” said Dr. Walker. “There are stories that would never, probably ever be told. The backstories of a lot of individuals who are involved. So coming together as a community may not be as easy as people believe.”
Self-efficacy is the fourth element that Dr. Walker explained. The American Psychological Association defines self-efficacy as our ability to behave in ways that would bring about a specific outcome. In other words, it's this idea that if you are going to school to learn, you should not have to worry about being caught in a crossfire, because the only outcome of that behavior should be learning.
“And finally, the fifth element that we always look for, comes in various ways, is this idea of hope,” said Dr. Walker. "That we can become bigger than ourselves, and that we can attach ourselves to good in this world and move forward.”
Moving forward after an event like this can be tough. But according to many experts, the first step in that direction is to acknowledge the feelings that you might be having. Acknowledge that something happened. This can come in the form of a ritual or a ceremony, or even just a group meeting.
“So, oftentimes the conversation is around when do we end remembering or recovering, begin getting back to our normal or new normal in learning again,” said Dr. Walker. “That is probably the most difficult question or conversation that I have with the school administration. Because that grieving process is going to be different for everyone. When do you begin asking students to do homework, to do tests? When do we move forward, but also look back and remember, you know what's happened.”
Ben has not forgotten what happened. He probably never will. But he’s trying to make something out of the pain. “A lot of people at Tabor are a lot closer now,” said Ben. “Because there's people in my classes that I have literally never talked to, but they checked up on me and I checked up on them also. And it's just like, everybody around me has reached out to me and made sure I was okay. It is just, it feels amazing that people care that much about you.”
Correction: An earlier version of this story erroneously reported that the suspect in the Mount Tabor shooting was apprehended a couple of days after the incident. He was actually apprehended on the same day.
Story does not include AP content
Youth Human Interest Normal Tweet
Charles Moose (right) then the chief of police in Portland, Ore., greets President Bill Clinton as Attorney General Janet Reno applauds at a Justice Department meeting in July, 1994. (AP File Photo/Doug Mills)
Charles Moose, who earned national recognition during the Washington, D.C. sniper killings has died.
Growing up in Lexington, Moose wasn’t aspiring to be a policeman. In his book Three Weeks in October: The Hunt for the Serial Sniper, he recounts his time as a young Black man in the 1960s being wary of police and keeping a low profile to avoid any potential confrontations.
That changed after college. Upon graduation from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Moose began his law enforcement career in Portland, Oregon, where he would eventually become the city’s first Black police chief.
He moved back east to become the police chief of Montgomery County, Maryland, just outside of D.C.
In 2002, Moose became the national face of a multi-agency task force during three weeks of random shootings in the district, Maryland, and Virginia.
The violence stoked fear in the area just a year removed from the September 11 terrorist attacks. Ten people were killed. John Allen Muhammad and Lee Boyd Malvo were later convicted. Muhammad was executed for his part. Malvo is currently serving a life sentence.
Moose earned praise for his leadership of the manhunt.
He left the department to write his book, which was published the next year.
Moose died last week. He was 68. A cause of death was not given.
Story includes some AP content
News Human Interest Normal Tweet
Historical maps of Forsyth County displayed in the Wachovia Room at Old Salem’s Moravian Research and Archaeology Lab. APRIL LAISSLE/WFDD
County border lines in North Carolina are often far from symmetrical. That’s especially the case for Forsyth County, which is certainly not a perfect square. That had listener John Strong wondering:
“Why do Forsyth County’s southern boundaries look like Swiss cheese?”
WFDD’s April Laissle spoke to Martha Hartley, the director of research at Old Salem’s Moravian Research and Archaeology Lab, to find the answer.
Diagram excerpted from The North Carolina Atlas: Portrait of a Changing Southern State.
“Forsyth County's distinctive outline is a product of history and nature," Hartley says.
That history is centered around the Moravian Church and its purchase of 100,000 acres of land in 1753 in the backcountry of North Carolina. Hartley says they named their new colony Wachovia after the Wachau Valley they knew in Austria with its similar rolling landscape. The Moravians chose the land due in large part to the richness of water resources.
“The Moravians were thinking about the long term, they were thinking about a place that would support their plans for congregations and long-term stability," says Hartley. "And so this water, this amazing Muddy Creek system that is the backbone of Wachovia, is fed by thousands of springs and smaller tributaries. And when you think about where people are going to live in the 18th century, water is life."
Wachovia was situated in Rowan County for the first 20 years the Moravians lived there. But by 1771, population growth prompted colony leaders to create Surry County by splitting up Rowan. But, they drew a dividing line right through the center of Wachovia, worrying the Moravians.
“So the Moravians petitioned, and the line was redrawn in 1773, and it was redrawn by the Moravian surveyor. The southern line of Forsyth County is mostly from this particular moment, and it included the southern boundary of Wachovia, the distinct form that we see today.”
Both the southern and eastern lines of present-day Forsyth County came mostly from the split that created Surry County. For the next 18 years, Wachovia sat in the southeastern quadrant of Surry County, but by 1789 the population had reached another tipping point.
“As the population continued to grow, there was a need for people to be close to their county seat and courthouse, because that's where all the business is done, and it's a powerful place," Hartley says.
So, Surry County was cut down the middle, with the eastern half becoming Stokes County. The lower western side of Stokes was generally drawn along the Yadkin River. Rivers made logical borders because they had to be crossed.
The divide that would finally establish Forsyth County as we know it today didn’t come for another 60 years.
“In 1849 Stokes County was cut in half. And the lower portion, which contained Wachovia the whole while, was named Forsyth County after Benjamin Forsyth, a local statesman and war hero who was fatally wounded in the War of 1812," says Hartley.
From there, leaders had to decide where to place the county seat in the new Forsyth County.
“At that time, Salem was a center for trade and growing industry and was located in the middle of the new county, the logical place for a county seat," Hartley says. "But Salem was a theocratic community. It was a religious place, and church leaders did not want a courthouse in Salem with its courthouse business and places of execution. So within the Salem town lot, they sold 51 acres in the northern part for the new county seat, which was ultimately named Winston.”
The borders of the county have stayed more or less the same since then. The original Wachovia tract still fills the middle of it. And in many ways, Winston-Salem’s city limits reflect Wachovia’s historic borders.
Story does not include AP content
Human Interest Normal Tweet