Virginia: The Civil War’s Madam on the Mall
Vienna, Va.— As the nearly million people stood on the national Mall and watched the inauguration of President Barack Obama, little did they know that they were extremely near a very popular and profitable business establishment of bygone years, one that would be illegal today.
In 1840, a young lady named Mary Ann Hall, who was 25 at the time, was able to purchase a piece of property from the government on a portion of the land where the National Museum of the American Indian would one day be built. The enterprising lady opened a brothel, or bordello, at 349 Maryland Avenue in a three-story house, which she had built. It was only four blocks west of the U.S. Capitol, site of the inauguration.
Photo: U.S. Capitol, 1860, still under construction, and four blocks from the brothel.
As the footings of the NMAI were being dug, workmen began to uncover items that simply did not comport with the normal home or business of that time. Archeologists were called in consultation, and the refuse found helped solve the mystery.
There were hundreds of very old champagne corks and some bottles, along with the wire baling that held them on and even some of the seals. The name of the toney champagne Piper-Heidsieck was still easy to read on the seals. Even back in 1865 when the Civil War was winding down, clients and their “entertainers” enjoyed the finest wines.
According to the Union Army’s Provost Marshal’s list of houses of ill-repute, Mary Hall employed some 15 to18 “inmates,” as they were then called, who were ladies of the highest caliber, knowing how to please and entertain gentlemen.
Washington was a city where numerous men came to conduct legitimate business both political and otherwise for a few days or longer. In fact, her fancy house was known as “the Congressmen’s Whorehouse.” At that time prostitution was legal, so the men were happy and Mary was even happier, enjoying an upper class lifestyle.
The area itself was a rough one: neighboring spots carried names like “Louse Alley” and even “Murderer’s Row,” neither of which appeared to bother the Mall Madam or her clientele.
Other artifacts were soon found in the area: bones of various animals that provided cuts of meat not normally found on the dinner plates of the average citizen, including turtles. There was some high living at the brothel.
Even shards of dishes showed ironstone and gold-rimmed or gilt porcelain were used and later discarded into a second lot near the house that was a sort of garbage disposal site for the brothel. The government had had difficulty selling property in the area where the site of the brothel was built because it was marshy and swampy, so individual sales, like the one made to Mary Hall, kept the money coming in.
Also found were remains of highly prized coconuts, while fruit and berries gave ample proof that only the best was served to her clients and employees as well. Years later when the property was resold, the inventory showed carpets from Brussels, extremely expensive large, overstuffed furniture, including the best beds and linens that could be purchased.
Statistics indicate that during the Civil War while men were marching off to certain death at Gettysburg in 1863, some 5,000 prostitutes plied their trade in Washington. The presence of a large number of Union soldiers in the area was another ready market for Mary Hall’s “ladies.”
An angel watches over Mary Hall's grave.
There were probably another thousand prostitutes in Georgetown and Alexandria; however their establishments were not as opulent and handsome as Mary’s place. Since the competition did not seem to hurt her business, she became a wealthy woman of the time, doubtless on the backs of her employees.
Aside from her business associates, Mary Hall seemed to keep to herself. She never married or had children and she worked hard and saved her money after her house was completed and customers came readily. She retired from the business after 38 years in 1878.
When she died in 1886, her net worth was estimated at $87,000+, the equivalent in present dollars of $2,000,000. And since a complete inventory had been kept of the contents of her home, some of her relatives attempted to get a piece of what she had earned. She was buried with her mother and her sister Liz in Congressional Cemetery.
A few years later prostitution would become illegal, but Mary Hall had made her financial success by then. She was never charged with a misdemeanor or any other mischief, although smaller bordellos run by less influential madams were routinely “called upon” by authorities. She probably counted among her customers some of the high and mighty of Washington, and it simply showed what an astute businesswoman she was that all that information she took to her grave.
–Martha Boltz, The Washington Times
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Alabama: Civil War Artifacts Donated to Auburn Library
The Auburn University Special Collections and Archives Department recently received a donation on behalf of John Vick, a 1962 Auburn graduate, and his wife Faye. The donation has been named the Vick Collection in their honor.
The flag for the 37th Alabama Infantry Regiment of the Confederacy is kept in the archives department of the Ralph Brown Draughon library. (Raye May / PHOTO EDITOR) Read more: The Auburn Plainsman - Civil War artifacts donated to Ralph Brown Draughn Library
“John and Faye have been very generous toward Auburn over the years,” said Dwayne Cox, the head of special collections at Auburn. “And this collection is a great example of that.”
Hester Montford is a graduate assistant in the history department and is in the archival education program.
“The collection ranges from Revolutionary Colonialism all the way up to the Kennedy era,” Montford said.
The collection includes three main aspects: manuscripts, rare books and a postal collection. Among the manuscripts are signed papers by Jefferson Davis and Raphael Semmes, who was an officer in the United States Navy and captained the CSS Alabama during the Civil War.
“One of the main subjects the collection touches on is the Civil War,” Cox said. “The unique manuscripts and postal material are a great addition to our sizable Civil War collection.”
Montford was hired on as a graduate assistant to arrange the material in a logical order.
“We are doing things to preserve it such as putting things in acid free folders,” Montford said. “We are also arranging it into an order so researchers will be able to find things easily.”
Cox said that Montford is the most knowledgeable on the collection because of the time she has spent organizing the material.
“I have not seen a donation of this size come through,” Montford said. “We are really grateful for this type of collection because we depend on donations and I think researchers will find it invaluable.”
Montford is an archival education student that it has been a great personal experience to work with the collection.
“It is really intense because it is so many different history topics,” Montford said. “But I am learning a lot while working with the material and I think it is very interesting.”
Cox said he is also grateful for the donation from John and Faye Vick. He said it is a major gift not only because of its informational content, but the fact that it goes well with their current collections. Cox also said he is happy to have the collection so it can be used by students, faculty and researchers.
The material will be open for researchers by the end of the semester.
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Georgia: POW Camp Site Remains from Civil War
BLACKSHEAR, Ga. — A historical marker sits shaded by trees on the shoulder of Georgia 203, where city outskirts fade to full country.
The marker is the only indication that 5,000 Union prisoners of war and their 700 Confederate guards once bedded down on land that slopes down gently to what was once a free flowing creek. The creek has dried up and trees cover most of the 35-acre site.
But local and state officials think there’s evidence in the ground and they want an archaeologicalstudy done to find it. The county owns 2.7 acres of the site and two separate owners the rest.
Barry Brown, a historical tourism specialist for the Georgia Department of Community Affairs, said being fully undeveloped, the grounds are in the best possible condition for a study.
Tommy Lowmon, who directs in tourism development for Blackshear, says from all accounts the land is pretty much as it was — except for some farming and volunteer trees — since the POWs were moved after a two-month stay.
The POWs were moved from the infamous camp at Andersonville during Sherman’s march through Georgia, Brown said.
Because Sherman’s route was unknown to the Confederates, they didn’t want to take a chance on his going to Andersonville, Brown said.
“They didn’t want to see Sherman coming to Georgia and releasing 30,000 Union prisoners,” Brown said.
In November and December of 1864, the Confederates moved about 5,000 each to Thomasville and Blackshear and about 10,000 to Millen at what is now Magnolia Springs State Park, he said.
The site of the Thomasville camp is preserved and the earthen berms are still visible, Brown said.
Beginning about five years ago, the Georgia Southern University archaeology department began an archaeological dig at Magnolia Springs based on old drawings and watercolors of the camp, Brown said.
“They found a lot of artifacts,” he said.
Who knows what they would find at the Blackshear site, but Lowmon said some people have been known to look.
“There were stories about kids throwing cannon balls in the creek,” and one of the private landowners said he’s run off people with metal detectors, Lowmon said.
There are also written accounts of some prisoners dying and being buried on the grounds, which Brown said was realistic given the POWs’ horrid living conditions and poor diets at Andersonville.
“They died on the train ride over. They died in the camp,” he said.
Twenty-seven who were buried there were disinterred and their remains moved to a federal cemetery in Beaufort, S.C., Brown said.
Brown said he would like some ground-penetrating radar used at the site to determine if there are artifacts. If so an archaeology team from a state university could do a study.
“It would require a lot of precision work,” he said.
Lowmon said he at least would like for someone to find the location of the burial ground, thought to be in a wooded area.
Were the site developed, it would become a stop for historic tourists, especially for those with an interest in the Civil War, Lowmon said.
The pity is that it wasn’t done before the 150th anniversary of the war began but there’s still time left, he said.
Establishing the site also has historic value, Brown said.
“It places the Civil War front farther out,” he said.
–Associated Press
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North Carolina: Descendents Rekindle Civil War Tale of Sheriff Shot 150 Years Ago
The death of Haywood County Sheriff John Phillip Noland — a murder story set against the backdrop of the American Civil War — sounds as if it belongs in the pages of Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain.
Like the plotline of the award-winning novel, Sheriff Noland’s was ambushed a gunned down on a remote mountain pass while chasing down men who deserted or evaded the war effort.
Although the true story of Haywood’s only sheriff killed in the line of duty harkens back to 1862, the long-since forgotten tale isn’t rekindled until the early 1980s with Sheriff Noland’s descendant Lynn Noland, a retired Waynesville attorney.
For years, Lynn Noland had been investigating his family tree and history because “nobody else was doing it,” he said. And as happenstance would have it, he stumbled upon a little known story of involving one of his ancestors.
One day out of the blue, a friend and fellow attorney Frank Ferguson began relaying the story of Sheriff Noland’s murder, asking if Noland had ever heard of the man.
Mike Hudgins stands in the Confederate Cemetery at Carnton. In 1954, he and two other teenagers were suspected of vandalizing the cemetery. / Mark Cook / The Tennessean
“I said, ‘Never heard of him. Never heard of the story,’” Lynn Noland said.
But soon, the life of Sheriff Noland became a decades long obsession for his descendent.
The account went like this: during the Civil War, Sheriff John Noland was charged with enforcing conscription laws, which required all able-bodied men to fight for the Confederate army. Sheriff Noland’s job was to find deserters hiding in the dark recesses of the mountains.
Two brothers, Bud and Harrison Robinson, were hidden out in Roger’s Cove above present-day Lake Junaluska — but Bud got caught before the pair could flee west away from the war. To get revenge on the sheriff, who had arrested his brother, Harrison devised a plan.
On Sept. 22, 1862, JoAnn Robinson rode into Waynesville to visit her jailed husband, Bud, before returning to the place where Harrison was waiting. Sheriff Noland, hoping to find criminals who had thus far evaded him, following JoAnn — not realizing he was following her to his death.
It was a setup: Harrison had sent JoAnn to town, knowing the sheriff would tail her, and as JoAnn approached, presumably with the sheriff on her tail, she would give the prearranged signal to Harrison and possibly other ambushers hiding in the woods. A heavy lead ball struck Sheriff Noland in the throat, killing him in a spot now called “Noland Gap.”
More than a century later, the tale of conspiracy, outlaws and murder enthralled the sheriff’s descendent Lynn Noland. But uncovering the details to piece together the chain of events proved difficult.
To find more information, Ferguson directed him to a lady living in Hazelwood. The woman not only knew the tale but also had among her possessions the outfit Sheriff Noland had worn the day he was shot — a black coat, black pants and a white shirt stained with blood.
“It looked like somebody poured chocolate syrup all over the shirt,” Noland said.
During the years, Noland continued to research Sheriff Noland’s life. And, one day in 2004, Noland found something that he didn’t know still existed — the cloth crimson rosette worn by Sheriff Noland on the day of his death.
A distant relative from Washington had the rosette, which was used as a sign of office during the Civil War. Since he had no heirs, the man requested that the piece of history be presented to the Haywood County Sheriff’s Office.
And finally last week, Noland presented the crimson rosette to Haywood County Sheriff Bobby Suttles at a short ceremony held at the sight of Sheriff Noland’s murder 150 years later.
“Today marked the culmination of a long task that should have been completed a long time ago,” Noland said.
The rosette, which is encased in a shadow box, is on display in the atrium of the Haywood County Sheriff’s Office.
“This is the first I’ve ever heard of a sheriff being killed in Haywood County,” Suttles said. “I was really amazed by (the story).”
The tale of Sheriff Noland’s demise was particularly fascinating to the couple that currently lives on the property where he was shot. Kathy Bell and her husband are both retired history teachers.
“Anytime you can get local history, it’s a story. It’s not just a list of facts and peoples names that you’re never going to remember,” Bell said.
The couple did not know the interesting piece of history that took place just at the end of their driveway until a couple weeks ago when Noland knocked on their door.
“He just sort of showed up on our door one day and said, ‘By the way, I have this story to tell you,’” Bell said.
–Caitlin Bowing, smokymountainnews.com
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Tennessee: Confederate Graveyard Vandalism Suspicions Linger 50 Years
During the past 58 years, I’ve spent about five minutes reflecting on a certain family of activities I wasn’t a party to.
Recently, however I’ve experienced a phenomenon that reassociates me, Mike Hudgins, with Franklin’s Confederate Cemetery and the long soiled evening of 2/1/1954. Solid, long term friends of mine — Buddy Mills, John McCord, Jerry Brinkley, Rick Warwick, and now the local writer, Bobby Langley — have popped the “I always thought you did it” question.
To satisfy those giving serious thought to the matter, this effort is my 59th year after the fact coming out story.
Every American Civil War history student knows of Confederate Gen. John Bell Hood, and his military performance of Nov. 30, 1864. The reader might recall Hood, and his 20,000 man army advancing from Spring Hill in hot pursuit of Nashville-bound, but logistically challenged, Union Gen. John B. Scofield and his 20,000 soldiers. With 30 minutes of daylight remaining, and Hoods’ in-their-saddles military cabinet screaming “No! No! No!, he commenced his planned assault. This act, branded by historians as The Battle of Franklin, produced 8,578 soldiers killed, seriously wounded, captured or unaccounted for, and a vast pay-as-you-go incapacitation of the C.S.A.
Most of the dead, North and South, were buried where they fell. Various factions removed the Northern soldiers to their places of rest, and only later were efforts made to have the Confederates moved to a plot of donated ground one fence line west of the McGavock family cemetery. This haven of rest, known to my generation as the Confederate Cemetery, was sacred to all who would visit and reflect upon all those Southern gravestones.
During the 1950s several of my young boyhood friends’ families rented the Carnton plantation farm home. There we cogitated over the graves on both sides of the fence, inspected blood-stained floors downstairs and up, and during winter months, searched the plowed fields for American Indian artifacts and Civil war paraphernalia.
Robert Inman, aka, Sweet Ears, the late, great friend to anyone who loved life, turned up a bullet mould during one of his plowed-field-sweeps and quickly put it to use churning out vintage lead bullets, or Minie balls. The activity reads like this: [several squares of plumberslead + a hot fire in Robert’s back yard + his mother’s heavy cook pot + that Civil war bullet mould + active young boys who didn’t mind a head of burned hair equaled sacks of homemade Minie balls.]
Vandals strike
During the night of Monday, Feb. 1, 1954, 89 years following the battle, and 59 years preceding this writing, vandals, publicly unknown still, entered the soldiers’ graveyard field where they did artfully wield their unique variety of destruction by pushing, shoving and toppling to the ground 25 monuments and tombstones. Back then, and even to this very hour, a survey among prominent locals would select me and several friends as a “person of interest.”
The Confederate Cemetery story was carried nationwide. Mr. Jack Knox, then political cartoonist at the Nashville Banner, and father of my best friend Britt, hit the streets with Footprints in Hallowed Dust, a depiction of an outraged John Q. Public approaching the cemetery field on foot. The artwork shows Mr. John carrying a felt business hat in one hand and a clenched fist in the other. Franklin’s Review-Appeal, The Nashville Banner, and Tennessean, plus numerous public leaders, began placing liberal cash rewards on the heads of the guilty, if found. This home-grown moral / financial posse began speaking in terms such as “perverted minds, wanton, lowly, benighted persons.”
Miss Annie Walker, President of the Franklin Chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, referred to the destruction as “one of the most dastardly acts I have ever known.”
In a one-to-one setting, none of my peers or their parents questioned me regarding the Confederate Cemetery. Group settings were starkly different. There was not a local store or teen-age hangout, that upon my entering, tongues did not grow mute, nor fun-loving, laughing, bright eyes that failed to turn down and away. That hurt!
During an afternoon study hall at Battle Ground Academy, one of my esteemed teachers, Mr. Paul Redick, caught my eye and motioned me to his desk.
“Mike,” he began and continued, in a non judgmental tone, “Officers from the Franklin Police Department and The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation are visiting us regarding The Confederate Cemetery. Did you have anything to do it with it, Mike?”
I had been waiting for that question.
“No, I did not Mr. Redick!”
“Would you swear to that, with your hand on the Bible?”
“Mr. Redick, I would swear to that with my hand on a stack of Bibles!”
After searching every inch of my very embarrassed face for a moment, he said, “Mike, I didn’t think you were involved, and we, Battle Ground Academy, will stand with you.”
Questioning begins
Sometime later, on my walk home from school, I glanced beyond that picket fence, and saw a very official, splashy, black 4-door Ford parked in front of our home.
Seated at our family picnic table were my dad Ward Hudgins, an attorney in private practice and former U.S. Attorney for the Middle District of Tennessee [1947-53]. The first person to hold that job was Andrew Jackson. Across from my Dad was Mr. John Reynolds, a T.B.I. agent and next-door neighbor during the ending years of WWII. Shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Reynolds was a gentleman I didn’t know.
“Have a seat son,” my Dad said in a not-reluctant manner. “These men are from the T.B.I., and want to ask you some questions.”
At that, from his side of the table, Mr. Reynolds leaned forward. In an uncomfortable, unconvinced and unconvincing manner, he said, “Mike, the T.B.I. has been investigating the Confederate Cemetery incident from the moment it was discovered. We have just talked to a reliable father and son, both of Franklin, who have identified you as the person who threw those cemetery stones to the ground. On the basis of their testimony, we are here asking for your confession!”
Thinking back to that heart-stopping encounter, it came to mind, slow- motion- style. I held one giant advantage over local/state law enforcement authorities. Innocent persons are not required to affirm innocence or deny guilt. An honest person is under no requirement to appear honest, and to forgo detection, only the dishonest have to act honorably. Everyone else can do as they wish.
Raising my head from that moment of reflection, I looked at Mr. Reynolds asking. “Mr. Reynolds, you say there is a father and son who were at the cemetery that night, and saw me push those stones to the ground. Is that right?”
“That’s right Mike, and based on their statements we want your confession!”
“And, you say they live in Franklin, is that right?”
Yes, they do!”
With his answer, I leapt from the table with great joy, and began backing across our side yard in the direction of the Ford. “Lets go!” I urged to Mr. Reynolds.
“Where are we going Mike?” Mr. Reynolds asked, with a sudden drop of confidence and a puzzled look on his face.
“You said there is a Franklin father and son who witnessed me shoving those Confederate Cemetery stones to the ground, so let’s go, take me to them, come on right now. Let’s go!”
Guilty not found
Mr. Reynolds and the entire law enforcement apparatus of Middle Tennessee had no choice but to self-succumb to the fact they were looking in all the wrong places for those who had taken “a particularly low descent into the nether regions of criminal mischief — to desecrate a graveyard.”
Growing up next door to the Reynolds family, I witnessed his two sons and daughter coming and going on a daily basis. His son Jack was there then, and remains the only person I knew who was killed during the war. I know it might sound a little foolish, but Jack was and remains an emotional hero of mine.
I so much wanted to look into his face and say, “During the war, I had a young child’s crush on your son, Jack. When he was killed I never told you and Mrs. Reynolds how I felt.”
That’s understandable, as 6-year-old children don’t approach larger-than-life adult neighbors and say, “I am sorry your son Jack was killed.” I loved Jack Reynolds.
This subject wasn’t breeched at that picnic table 58-plus years ago. I didn’t want Mr. Reynolds or my Dad to consider I was exhibiting some sort of under-the-table composite picture of my intentions, my guilt or my innocence.
The stakes were just too high.
–Mike Hudgins, The Tennessean
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Virginia: Southern Film Festival Returns to Richmond
The “Making of ‘Lincoln'” documentary and more films screening Southern freedom at the Southern Film Festival.
The Southern Film Festival returns for its fourth yearFebruary 8 and 9, 2013 with movie screenings, discussions – and even a “Making of ‘Lincoln'” documentary – at venues around town like the VMFA, Cous Cous and the Virginia Historical Society.
Daniel Day-Lewis in Steven Spielberg's "Lincoln."
This year’s theme is Screening Southern Freedom in honor of the Sesquicentennial of the Emancipation Proclamation.
“Some of the films deal with emancipation directly, like the Lincoln movie, others talk about it in broad terms,” says festival creator and VCU professor Emilie Raymond.
This will be the first time the “Making of ‘Lincoln’ documentary is screened in the area where the movie was filmed.
The Southern Film Festival will also screen films like“Jamestown” (1923), based on the historical novel by the Richmond writer Mary Johnston, the Robert Mitchum crime drama “Thunder Road” (1959) and“The Loving Story” (2011), an award-winning documentary about the legendary interracial Virginia couple who were barred from living together.
Raymond moved to Richmond eight years ago and got the idea for the film festival as a way to reach out to the Richmond community and to interest VCU students as well.
“[Film] is such a powerful medium,” Raymond says. “I definitely became more interested in the topic of Southern Exceptionalism [when I moved here]. The South has always presented itself as a different place, a special place…That is a theme that Hollywood has extenuated, making the South look overly romanticized with ‘Gone with the Wind’ or make it look like a terrible place in more recent films. [At the festival], we talk about how the South has been portrayed, how it’s been exaggerated, and how the South identifies itself in film.”
Raymond says she’s most looking forward to “Jamestown,” the film that opens the festival at the VMFA. The movie is based on a novel by Richmond writer Mary Johnston who was a prominent women’s suffragist and wrote bestselling novels in the 1900s. “This woman was really important to Richmond history,” Raymond says. “And now she’s fallen off the radar a bit.”
“Jamestown” is a silent film that will be screened with a live musical accompaniment, which is a first for the festival.
The fourth annual VCU Southern Film Festival will be held February 8-9, 2013 at several venues. Some screenings are free, others charge admission. Check the schedule below for details.
Friday, February 8
6:30-9 p.m. Jamestown (1923)
Virginia Museum of Fine Arts Leslie Cheek Theater
Admission: $8 general admission; $5 for VMFA members; free for VCU faculty, staff, and students (must present valid ID to pick up tickets)
Based on the historical novel by the Richmond writer and women’s suffragist Mary Johnston, Jamestown was adapted into a silent film in 1923. It depicts the colony from which the first steps for American freedom took root and, paradoxically, from where American slavery was born. Preserved by the Library of Congress, this rarely-seen film will be screened with live musical accompaniment by the St. Charles String Quartet.
Moderated by: Morgan Dean, co-anchor of Good Morning Richmond and film critic for TV8
Panel discussion after the film featuring Morgan Dean; Trent Nicholas of the VMFA; and Clayton Brooks, Mary Johnston scholar
Saturday, February 9
10 a.m. Thunder Road (1959)
Cous Cous Restaurant
Admission: $5 includes breakfast; drinks, including the infamous Thrillbilly cocktail, will be available for purchase
This 1959 crime-drama starring Robert Mitchum as a moonshine runner, has become a cult classic for its gritty depiction of an independent moonshiner struggling for freedom from gangsters and the government.
Moderated by: Jim Stramel, director of Thrillbillies and Degenerates Ink
1 p.m. The Making of “Lincoln” (2012)
Virginia Historical Society Theater
This documentary gives a behind-the-scenes look at the making of Lincoln, the new feature film by Stephen Spielberg that focuses on Lincoln’s role in the abolition of slavery and was shot in the Richmond area. Production team members Rita McClenney, John Witt, and Nicholas Angelo Batten will comprise a post-viewing panel to discuss their experiences making the film.
4 p.m. The Loving Story (2011)
Grace Street Theater
This award-winning documentary tells the story of Richard Loving and Mildred Jeter, an interracial couple barred from living in their home state of Virginia. Newly discovered 16 mm footage, personal family testimony, and rare documentary photos take us behind the scenes of this emotional account, and the film shows how the Lovings Case led to greater marriage equality when the Supreme Court struck down anti-miscegenation laws in 1967.
Moderated by: Peter Wallenstein, historian and author of Tell the Court I Love My Wife
7 p.m. Stormy Weather (1943)
Grace Street Theater
Held in conjunction with VCU Dance
Made in 1943, this musical is loosely based on the life of Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, a Richmond native who achieved economic freedom through his extraordinary skills as a tap dancer. Notable performances include Lena Horne’s rendition of the title song, Fats Waller’s composition “Ain’t Misbehavin,” and Cab Calloway’s “Jumpin’ Jive.”
Moderated by: Daphne Maxwell-Reid, actress and host of Virginia Currents on WCVE
–richmond.com
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