Page 3 - Demo
P. 3
Mfrom the editor y husband’s Hebrew school teacher used to tell
What does a twentieth-century American mogul do to occupy himself in his golden years? He becomes perhaps “the greatest benefactor of all time to Virginia education.” In an article on page 33, William F. Quillian, Jr., president of Randolph-Macon Woman’s College from 1952-1978, describes what it’s like to hear the words “Mr. Pratt wants to see you.”
Elias Schewel traded in his wagon for a store on Twelfth Street, and later moved to the corner of Main and Twelfth across the street from the stores pictured above.
Twelfth Street, a young man of modest means from King George County was preparing to leave for college. As it turned out, John Lee Pratt’s degree in civil engineering from the University of Virginia would open doors at
du Pont and eventually take him to the upper reaches of General Motors where his business acumen would make him one of the wealthiest men in the United States.
a joke that went something like this:
A Hebrew school student goes up to the rabbi and asks, “Rabbi, what is heaven?”
“Heaven?” says the rabbi. “Why, heaven is rows and rows of people seated at long tables studying the Torah.”
“I see,” replies the student. “If that’s heaven then what is hell?”
While generous gestures by individuals like Pratt have the power to command headlines, many relatively diminutive donations given over time by those who can least afford it can have an equivalent if not greater impact. In Central Virginia and throughout the country, African Americans barred from mainstream opportunities and affiliations created a parallel universe of social networks that allied with churches and businesses to provide financial assistance, promote citizenship and education, and protect members from both physical and emotional harm.
“Hell?” says the rabbi. “Why, hell is rows and rows of people seated at long tables studying the Torah.”
The humor, of course, springs from the understanding that scholarship can be a heavenly or hellish pursuit, depending on what type of student you are. For Elias Schewel, founder of the eponymous Lynchburg-based furniture company, it was heaven. In fact, Schewel Furniture Company began out of necessity, as Elias struggled to supplement his meager income as the Jewish community’s only rabbinical scholar and teacher. Starting a business was not a goal in and of itself but the byproduct of a higher calling.
“For Our Own Good: Central Virginia’s African American Civic and Social Groups” offers a fascinating glimpse into the world of nearly one hundred clubs and organizations formed in Central Virginia starting in the mid- nineteenth century and continuing through the twentieth. Some are black versions of familiar groups such as the YMCA, Elks, and Boy Scouts. Others like Virginia Seminary’s Nem Deroloc (“Colored Men” spelled backwards) organized to encourage literary development. The True Reformers offered insurance to sober non-smokers. Contrary to their name, the Ladies of Leisure worked hard to promote African American culture and raise funds to benefit those in need.
In this issue, one of Elias’s grandsons, the former Virginia State Senator Elliot Schewel, presents a short, straightforward history of his family’s nineteenth-century beginnings
in America. Without saying a word about it, the story hints at the underpinnings of what would become the Schewel family legacy: an
untiring commitment
to education, public service, and cultural life demonstrated through the hands-on efforts and philanthropic endeavors of four succeeding generations.
For anyone who has ever questioned
the power of small contributions, “Little Champions” is a must read. In 1948 workers from the Craddock-Terry Shoe Factory and Lynchburg Hosiery Mill “chipped in half dollars, quarters, or whatever they could spare” to send a sandlot football team—a group of one-hundred-pound kids from Miller Park—to compete in the Pop Warner Santa Claus Bowl in Philadelphia. The legacy of those loose- change kindnesses is the pure joy that still lingers in the hearts of the players and the stories they tell their grandchildren.
About the same time Elias was trading in his peddler’s horse-drawn wagon for a store on
For readers who are wondering, the current state of the economy is reflected in this budget- conscious, all black-and-white issue. Lynch’s Ferry plans to return to full color in the fall.
SPRING/SUMMER 2009 


































































































   1   2   3   4   5