Although it may be difficult to grasp now, there was once a time when many white people lived in New Town.  From all indications, whites were some of the first residents of New Town.  As a matter of fact, for quite a few years, a white family had occupied the house on Lucius Road that we lived in during my childhood.  The Carmichael family, who lived in the house next to ours, passed that information on to us.  Back then, when we were colored and superstitious, many blacks believed and thought themselves very fortunate and “lucky” indeed to live in a house that had been occupied by white people.  Never mind that the whites were probably just as poor as the blacks.  The fact remained that they were white.  Regardless of how silly and superstitious, this was the prevailing opinion held by some blacks.
As I retrace the white presence in New Town, I can only mention the names of certain ones that I can recollect back to when I was two years old.  The people that I will consider were mostly storeowners and merchants who made their living in New Town.  However, the first person on the list was not a merchant or storeowner at all.  He was a resident of New Town who lived on the outskirts of our little community right across from the white graveyard on Jackson Street.  His house was actually on what is commonly called Highway 9 or the Lake View Highway.  His name was Mr. Toland Reed, who was a fascinating character indeed.  My great-grandmother, who had reared my mother from the age of twelve until the time she married my father at the age of nineteen, lived across the road from Mr. Toland Reed’s place on what is now Progress Street.  I got to know a lot about this man through visiting my great-grandmother’s house back then and listening to my cousins Benny and Preston, who stayed with my great grandma, Bunch.  Mr. Toland Reed’s place was actually like a farm.  He had ducks, goats, chickens, horses, and a monkey.  The monkey became the character in many fascinating tales my older cousins would tell us little fellows.  However, the most memorable thing about Mr. Toland Reed, that was quite well known in New Town, especially by those who patronized his illegal business, was that he sold moonshine liquor (commonly referred to as “stump hole” back then).  I use to overhear some of the grown men, who were evidently hooked on his illegal moonshine (like Robert King, Buddy Peppers, Curt McKellar, and even my old man, Jim Goings), declare that his was the best.
Not far from where Mr. Toland Reed lived, a white man by the name of Marion Gasque started a grocery store that would grow to become the most prosperous one in New Town.  I remember his store very well because my father, who was a bricklayer, helped to build it.  My parents brought most of our grocery from Mr. Marion Gasque’s store.  One thing I remember about him was that when one of his good customers had a death in the family, he would bring free grocery to their house to help them during the time of bereavement.  Although Mr. Marion Gasque never lived in New Town, his presence was great because of his store.
Shifting our attention to another part of New Town, we will discuss some whites whose presence was greater than any others.  One in particular was a man by the name of Mr. J.E. Thomas.  He owned and operated the Thomas Building Supply.  Mr. Thomas was a master bricklayer who employed quite a few black men, like my father for example.  It was under the tutelage of Mr. J. E. Thomas that my father learned the trade of laying bricks and blocks, as well as pouring and finishing cement.  My father became so good at it that he taught himself how to use the transit instrument, lay off a foundation, and read a blueprint.  Without having studied architecture, he could draw up plans for houses and churches.  The Goings’ Family is indebted to Mr. J.E. Thomas for giving my father the chance to learn and to develop in the skill of masonry and construction, a trade that he passed on to each of his sons and many others who were willing to work hard and to learn.
To the best of my recollection, the greatest concentration of whites that lived in New Town when I was growing up lived on the corner of Highway 57 (now Lockemy’s Highway) and Hickory Street, as well as on Lucius Road.  There were at least four white families who lived on these streets that were divided by Highway 57.  I remember a black man by the name of Mr. Joe Breeden, who would serve as a type of cab driver and chauffer for this family who lived on the corner of Highway 57 and Hickory Street.  This family had three daughters and the middle girl’s name was Judy.  She was a very attractive girl (in her early to mid-teens) with blond hair.  I remember the day she strutted down our street in a bathing suit and caused our eyes to stare and our imaginations to go beyond the boundary of decency and decorum.  I have come to believe that she did it deliberately to taunt, to tease, and to play with our minds.  She accomplished her scheme in a most devious fashion.
The next person who was a major part of the white presence in New Town was Mr. Leroy Jackson.  I believe that he was related in some way to both Stonewall Jackson and Hoyt Jackson, although I am not certain about this statement.  Nevertheless, he was a grocery store owner who owned a store on Highway 57 at almost the most southern part of New Town.  His store grew to become one of the most successful ones in New Town, second only to Marion Gasque’s store.  Leroy’s Store would have probably become more prosperous than Marion Gasque’s store, as well as one of the most successful in the entire county had it not been for his bad habits and vices.  On up the road, perhaps less than a mile on the corner of Highway 57 and Calhoun Street, there stood another grocery store named Cook’s Grocery.  Of all the merchants I am considering in this article that represented the white presence in New Town, I know the least about the Cooks, who were an elderly couple.  I seldom visited their store because by the time I arrived to where they were located; I had already stopped somewhere else through a force of habit.  Nevertheless, I was told by some very reliable sources that they were good and generous people who cared very much about black folk, especially the elderly couple who lived behind them where New Town ended and Mid Town started on Calhoun Street.  My source told me that the Cooks, who lived over their store, ultimately gave the house to the elderly black couple that had been renting it for years.
As I have progressed in this piece, I have deliberately saved the best for last.  Without question or dispute, everyone that I interviewed agreed that the greatest white presence (if I can truly call it that due to the Native American blood that was in Mr. Lockemy) was the Lockemy Family.  There was not another white family who even came close to them.  Not only did Mr. Ed, Mrs. Nettie, and their three sons (James, Tommy, and Dannie) run the store, but they also lived next door (unlike most of the people we have considered who had their businesses in the black community, but lived elsewhere).  The Lockemy Boys freely socialized and played with blacks without any interference or forbiddance from their parents.  As a matter of historical record, I’ve heard James (now Judge Lockemy) say more than once that people like Maceo Williamson, Joseph Singleton, and other blacks were some of his dearest and nearest friends when he was growing up.
I am going to conclude with two incidents that made Mr. Ed and Mrs. Nettie my favorites.  Once when I went to his store with a few coins to get some cookies and candy that sold two for a penny back then, Mr. Lockemy saw that I did not have nearly enough money for what I wanted.  Like the Santa Claus that he was, he almost filled my bag with an assortment of the good stuff.  At first, I thought he had certainly made a mistake.  However, I have come to know that this was just a part of who he was, a giving and friendly man.  Finally, when his son Tommy had died in an accident and the viewing of the body was at a certain funeral home (that I will not name), blacks were forbidden by the director to enter in and view the body.  Word got back to Mr. Ed and Mrs. Nettie.  Mr. Ed immediately gave the director this ultimatum, “Either you let our colored friends in to view my son’s body or we will come down there and take him somewhere else!”  Need I tell you the rest of the story?  The funeral home director quickly capitulated, ate crow, and allowed the blacks to view the body.
This ends our little historical account of the white presence in New Town.  I hope it afforded you as much joy in reading it as it did me in writing it.