by Mary Wakefield Buxton –
URBANNA — In 1984, when we announced to Newport News family and friends we were moving to a cottage on Kent Street in Urbanna, population fewer than 500, people stared at us with looks of disbelief, asking, “What will you do to fill your days in such a small town?”
After we arrived, Richmonders in town on weekends asked me “Whatever do you find to do here, anyway?” This was the stock question delivered with the “deer in the headlight eyes” that suggested the horror of having nothing to do.
People born and raised in a city enjoy city life and the close proximity to museums, theaters, department stores and constant source of entertainment. But I was raised in a small town, Vermilion, Ohio, and to me a small town is the best place to live. I love the atmosphere, friendliness, character and values and especially the peace and quiet of small-town life.
Which is what I thought I was going to have when I moved to Urbanna. And which I enjoyed for about 20 years before the town’s need for more and more tourist dollars to stay afloat.
Which is what happened to most small towns in the USA that wanted to survive as they realized to have doctors, dentists, banks, lawyers, restaurants, drug and grocery stores and a gas station, they needed constant tourists to pump money into the area.
Once the annual Urbanna Oyster Festival was enough but now we must compete each weekend for tourist revenues offering activities to lure spenders here. The almighty tourist buck cannot be wooed just once a year, but every weekend.
Ah, but those early years were such bliss to those who love nothing to do. For what does a writer wish for more than nothing to do but time to think, observe and write?
But the girl, Urbanna, we all loved, once an ungainly adolescent, has morphed into a glittering lady dressed to the hilt and raring to go to the next party put on every weekend for her benefit.
Why, just a few weekends ago there were so many activities going on in Urbanna I could not decide what to do so I stayed home with my dog, “Dandy.” It was a splendid evening with classical music on MCTV, a cup of tea and a new copy of the New Yorker magazine. I had a wonderful time.
The town offered at least three activities scheduled in one day, its monthly Urbanna Farmers Market, Second Saturday with rock bands, and bluegrass music at the Urbanna firehouse. The weekend before that was and Founders Day with colonial garbed women and the town crier reading proclamations along with a fife and drum pair marching down Virginia Street. Urbanna has history to sell and it means to do it.
To all this was the proverbial empty “trolley” bus that zoomed down Kent Street every 30 minutes with no passengers as if hoping someone would board it and go downtown to spend some money.
Past stabs at finding the right mix to entice tourists to Urbanna has hit or missed. Our jackpot is the Urbanna Oyster Festival provided each year from local talent and hard work but a few events never caught on such as the winter chili bake-off and plunge into the icy Urbanna Creek (with rescue squad on duty in case someone experienced shock from cold water and I hate to think of the lawsuit) and the Pub Crawl on Halloween.
Add the festive Rappahannock Avenue street traffic, an army of flag waving golf carts, walkers, bikers, dogs, children on skateboards, empty trolley, parents pushing baby strollers, boat trailers and lawn mowing rigs moving in and out, traffic from yard sales, children shooting basketballs in a roadside net, an occasional lemonade stand, even a diesel truck roaring up and down Rappahannock, and more SUVs parked along Kent Street (amongst the puddles) on weekends than a car dealer ever had on his lot and one gets the picture of busy Urbanna weekends these days.
Then, just try crossing the street at the post office on weekends, which calls for major strategy along with a set of super quick legs.
I’ve often wondered what a writer and retired lawyer could do to get in on the bustling tourist trade? Maybe set up a table in front of the Southside Sentinel office with me dressed up as Scarlett O’Hara hawking my books and (my husband) Chip dressed as Rhett Butler offering tourists a “will while you wait” or “two divorces for the price of one.” Somehow I don’t think I can talk Chip (or Fred) into it.
One day I will need to find a sleepy small town in rural Virginia somewhere at the end of the road where I can find a little peace and quiet. In the meantime, I think I’ll find Dandy, make a cup of tea and curl up in my office with a good book.
© 2022.
(Editor’s note: Mary Wakefield Buxton’s One Woman’s Opinion guest column is currently on its usual summertime hiatus. It will return to a regular every other week schedule after Labor Day. However, Buxton does turn in a column from time to time during the summer months. Also in the meantime, you can purchase Mary Buxton’s 2021 book, “On the Toad Again: Travel Tales for Those who Prefer to Stay Home,” by visiting Trustbuilders Law Office in Saluda or by mailing a check for $15, plus $4 for tax and postage to P.O. Box 488, Urbanna, VA 23175.)
