In the late 1960s and early 1970s, the neighbourhood known as East Ghent – bordered by Olney Road to the south, Llewellyn Avenue to the east, Shirley Avenue to the north, and Colonial Avenue to the west – was a community in disrepair. Dominated by dilapidated low-income rental housing and plagued by the usual issues that go along with it, everyone agreed something needed to be done.
That was not the beginning of the story, though. Renewal projects had been in the works since the 1940s, with a multi-million dollar grant from the U.S. Housing Authority for urban redevelopment. In 1948, however, senator Joe “Red Scare” McCarthy, criticizing the USHA for its “socialist” undertones, introduced a bill that removed the necessity of replacing demolished homes with public housing opportunities. Naturally, it passed.
In 1950, the public housing communities of Tidewater Park and Young Park, at the intersection of Brambleton Avenue and Monticello Avenue, were constructed and heralded as a great success. On the heels of this victory, the City of Norfolk set out to raze the entire downtown neighbourhood of Atlantic City, a largely Black community, displacing a staggering 20,000 people – far more than Tidewater and Young Parks could absorb, and with no further plan for new low-income housing. Many were forced to move to the adjacent East Ghent, an area already in decline due to the infamous white flight of the post-war era.
Fifteen years later, the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority set their sights on this same area, now becoming a desirable location between downtown and upscale Ghent. This time, they seemed to work with the residents, who had the East Ghent Neighborhood Association to negotiate on their behalf. Residents were promised that they would be able to continue living in the area, which would be rebuilt with a racially-integrated mixture of low, middle, and high income housing. They were told the project would be completed in steps, rebuilding as they demolished, to allow the residents to move directly into new homes and minimize displacement.
Once the EGNA signed off on the plan, the entirety of the neighbourhood was razed before any construction began. It sat fallow for five years while developers, agonizing over interest rates, delayed the process and the 590 families who made their homes in the area scrambled to find places to live. Once building did begin, what went up was very different than what was promised. The upper-middle-income complex now known as Ghent Square began to take form, marketed exclusively to the rich, the white, and the well-educated – and priced accordingly. 20 years after being forced out of downtown, the now-former residents had to make permanent homes in more expensive areas like Berkley and Park Place.
History is repeating itself today with the redevelopment of Norfolk’s St. Paul’s neighbourhood, which is being demolished and replaced with high-end luxury downtown condos, after many years of familiar promises. The grandchildren of those forced out of East Ghent are having to leave the homes they were forced into only a few decades ago. This story echoes in cities across America, as the cycle of manufactured poverty and generational displacement reinforces itself, and leaves millions of broken families in its wake.