Whispers

May 2007 marks the 85th anniversary of the death of a Texas town. Few will notice, though the descendants of those who lived it, remember their frightened whispers, "If we speak the name 'Quakertown' too loudly - it might happen again."

Established in 1870, the African American settlement of Quakertown, sat right in the middle of the white college town of Denton, Texas. Quakertown's first public school opened eight years later, drawing residents away from Freeman Town, the first African-American neighborhood in Denton. Within ten years, Quakertown boasted numerous churches, stores, restaurants, and community organizations. By 1920, Dr. Edward Moten, the only black doctor in Denton County, lived in Quakertown.

Unfortunately for the citizens of Quakertown, two strikes were against them. The first strike was that the neighborhood's dirt streets and unpainted houses were visible from the nearby College of Industrial Arts. The white women's college's administration felt their chances of being granted full Liberal Arts accreditation was hampered by the close proximity of Quakertown. As early as 1914, prominent whites began suggestive whispers to end Quakertown's existence for the beautification of the city of Denton.

The second strike against Quakertown was the lovely creek flowing through the middle of it, which supported a meandering grove of trees throughout the neighborhood. This made it very attractive as the site for Denton County's first public park. The Jim Crow laws strangled the voting black voice, as all were reminded often of the ease in which one might hang at the whim of those in local political power. The few courageous blacks to speak out against it, and few defiant whites claiming it wrong, were violently threatened. Over 60% of the mostly white voters said "yes" in the 1922 bond election allowing the death of Quakertown, and the birth of Denton's Civic Center Park in its place.

By May of 1923, the 58 Quakertown families had two choices: The first was to accept the meager cash price the city of Denton offered to buy their properties. The second was to allow the city of Denton to physically move their houses to the Solomon Hills addition, on the other side of the railroad tracks.

The Quakertown citizens did not join the black exodus from the southern United States.The "why not" of it may never be clear. Some moved to California. Most stayed on Solomon Hill on the other side of the railroad tracks, where they were told to go. Maybe they stayed because they'd been Texas slaves, and even if displaced, Solomon Hill offered continued freedom to own property and homes. At its peak in 1920's Texas, the Ku Klux Klan wielded great power, so it is probable they feared the Klan might harm them further, if they made strides to move elsewhere.

The displacement to Solomon Hill was not without its casualties. Some black property owners refused to sell or to move, acting on their rights as freemen to petition the courts. A lucky few received compensation, but some succumbed to the Jim Crow laws, and got nothing. All were forced to move in the end. One account states that, when a black woman refused their offers and demands, the city of Denton removed her house from its foundation, and rolled it to Solomon Hill with her inside it.

By the 1950's, most people living in Denton never even heard of it. Besides the fear in the African-American community, as time went on, the white community became embarrassed about the selfish decisions made back in 1922. No one whispered of Quakertown for decades.

But around 1991, things appeared to be changing. Long-forgotten Quakertown documents were discovered by a Texas Women's University student. The Denton County Historical Commission erected an historic marker in the middle of the park, commemorating Quakertown. The College of Industrial Arts is now the Texas Women's University, and today's North Texas University also thrives in the city of Denton along beside it. Civic Center Park, gathers people for open-air concerts, picnics, and swimming.

Quakertown finally holds its place in history, through the local African American History Museum, various essays, and the commission's own manuscript, Quakertown 1870-1922. At least two historical fiction novels recreate Quakertown's shocking demise: White Lilacs, by ALA winning author, Carolyn Meyer, in 1993, and Quakertown, by NEA fellowship recipient, Lee Martin, in 2001.

New whispers flourish surrounding Quakertown. Mixed emotional whispers of phrases, such as, "It's about time;" "Finally;" and conversely "Too little, too late;" breeze around Denton, while Civic Center Park undergoes a new evolution into being called Quakertown Park.

This brings fresh whispers across racial lines. "Will changing the park name bring a sense of historic pride to African-American Denton County?" Will it ease the white elite descendants' embarrassment of their ancestors' bullying actions?" "Could it bring all races of Denton County peoples into a union of shared pride?"

Furthermore, as Dentons new construction expands eastward, whispers of "Will our property be condemned?" and "Can it happen again?" are fluttering through some descendants of the Quakertown citizens, still living in their ancestors' displaced housing on Solomon Hill - now called Southeast Denton.

The only certainty, for better or for worse, is the whispers of Quakertown won't end anytime soon.

Sources: Denton Record Chronicle, article: Widow Shares Husband's Memories of Quakertown, by Lowell Brown, Staff Writer, February 1, 2007; Denton Co. African American Museum: Quakertown History, Brief History of Quakertown, Denton, Texas, by Kim McCoig Cupit, Collections Curator, Denton Co. Museum, copyright 1995-2006; Handbook of Texas Online, article: Quakertown History, by Mark Odintz, 2001at www.tsha.utexas.edu; Novel: White Lilacs, by Carolyn Meyer, 1991; Novel: Quakertown, by Lee Martin, 2001; Herstory: Writer's personal knowledge as former Denton Co. resident.