INC NEWS - 1892: Blue Denim & Blue Devils (Herald-Sun)

[John Schelp]

1892: Blue Denim & Blue Devils

The year that brought the mill and Trinity College
forever changed 'Pin Hook' and Durham
(Herald-Sun, 28 April 2007)

Before there was Durham, there was Pin Hook.

Pin Hook was located on the ridge between the Neuse
and Cape Fear basins in what's now called Old West
Durham (100 yards southwest of the former Erwin Mills
area off Ninth Street). It served as a traveler's rest
between Hillsborough and Raleigh. 

According to historical lore, Pin Hook attracted the
shiftless of society, addicted to all sorts of vices
and attracting others of their ilk. The settlement
included a lodging house, camping grove, brothels, and
grog shops for travelers.

One hundred years ago, W.S. Lockhart wrote that Pin
Hook was, "known as a place of brawls and
rough-and-tumble fights, drinking, gambling and other
forms of amusement, where the natives and visitors met
to have a rough, roaring, and to them, glorious time."

Then came 1892 -- the most important date in the
history of West Durham. It marked the twin arrivals of
Erwin Cotton Mills and Trinity College.

Pin Hook, and Durham, would be forever changed. 

Up on Mill Hill, the steady noise of the cotton looms
hummed throughout the tidy mill village. Making denim
and sheets, the mills discharged its hot, soapy water
into the creek, leaving the entire neighborhood
smelling like a Laundromat. When the noise stopped on
Sundays, West Durham seem unnaturally still. 

Mill managers, like William Erwin and E.K. Powe,
walked through the mill village and stopped to talk to
the workers in their yards and on their front porches.


Folks were invited to band concerts in Erwin Park. 

Workers were given rose bushes to plant in their
yards, and many still bloom in Old West Durham. 

Neighbors watched the mills baseball team beat its
cross-town rivals at the old ball field at West Main
and Broad (where Mad Hatter's is today). Then they'd
sit on the porch until it was cool enough to retire. 

In the distance, you could hear the train whistle. 

Times were booming.

Meanwhile, Trinity College president Braxton Craven
was arguing strenuously for moving his struggling
school from Randolph County to an urban center. 

He acknowledged the presence of "bawdy houses in the
city" but said it was worse back in the village of
Randolph County. Craven appealed to the Methodist
Conference to "deliver Trinity College, this child of
Providence, from the bondage of its birthplace and
thus lead it out into the open world of grander
opportunity."

According to William K. Boyd, Duke professor of
history, the "college was in bad financial condition,
and there was talk of closing its doors" in the late
1800s. 

By 1892, Trinity's new president John Crowell shared
the belief that if the school were to survive the
rapidly changing conditions of the new South, it had
to move from its old campus -- which was at least five
miles from the nearest railroad, telegraph, and
telephone. 

Durham resident Julian Shakespeare Carr was one of
those who "came to the rescue." Carr was perhaps the
most important person in the early history of the
college. In fact, Carr, along with two men from
Winston, "assumed entire financial responsibility for
the institution."

"In such a way," wrote Professor Boyd, "the
institution was saved from complete collapse." 

In 1892, Carr donated his racetrack and park for what
is now East Campus. Durham resident Washington Duke
donated money. 

Thus, Trinity College arrived in Durham in a railroad
car carrying the old college bell, clock, office safe,
and several books. A handful of students and faculty
also made the trip. The college’s cow arrived later
(on foot).

Had the little school remained in Randolph County, it
would likely not have survived the unexpected national
economic depression of 1893. With a "newer outlook"
and the generosity of Durham residents, the college
grew. Its monetary value easily increased over ten
times after its relocation.

After the move to Durham, the editor of the Trinity
Archive wrote of the college's "incomparably greater
advantage to all concerned than ever before." 

Indeed, the faculty and student body expanded. As the
college grew, Durham citizens took up a collection to
pay for Southgate dorm, in memory of the Durham
businessman.

Then, in 1924, another Durham citizen, James 'Buck'
Duke, gave the college $40 million. The college
changed its name to Duke University, bought the
Rigsbee family farm (south of the Erwin Mill village),
and started building West Campus.

Many of the Italian stonecutters who built Duke Chapel
lived in West Durham. And the ravine where the
Rigsbee's kept their pigs is now Duke's football
stadium -- site of the 1942 Rose Bowl. 

Near the college was the African American settlement
of Brookstown, with some residents working in the
tobacco factory and Erwin Mills while others worked at
the Fitzgerald family brickyards – one of Durham's
largest Black-owned businesses. Many of Durham's
factories and mills were built using Fitzgerald
bricks. 

Thirty years ago, the mill village that surrounded
Erwin Mills in Old West Durham began to fall on hard
times. 

In the 1970s, a number of businesses in the shopping
district closed. The new expressway and Duke's new
Central Campus destroyed 450 mill houses and the
neighborhood's two parks. In 1986, Erwin Mills, the
economic engine of the community, shut its doors. The
neighborhood had hit rock bottom. 

But today, Old West Durham is enjoying a steadfast
renaissance that still respects its history. Ninth
Street is now home to an eclectic assortment of local
shops and restaurants. 

Neighbors are getting sidewalks, street lights and
traffic circles built, saving old mill houses from
being torn down, and working closely with developers
on quality in-fill projects that don't undermine the
community. 

There have been several clean-ups at the old mill
cemetery where white and African American workers are
buried side-by-side -- and where three children, who
died when Duke Chapel was being built, are buried
under markers made of Duke stone.

Old West Durham, once known as Pin Hook, is a place
where you actually know your neighbors -- and where
you can stroll out your door for a cup of coffee and
bump into Doug Marlette, Michael Jordan, or Madonna.

With its colorful past, it's still a place where the
front porch is used for visiting with neighbors, where
you can still hear a train whistle -- and Blue Devil
football games -- and where the roses still bloom. 

****

Notes

John Schelp: The author is president of the Old West
Durham Neighborhood Association. More West Durham and
Duke history, including where Elvis and Madonna lived,
can be found at www.owdna.org

The Boyd quotes are from his book, 'The Story of
Durham' (Duke Press). The Trinity Archive quote is
from 'Trinity College' (Duke Press).

[Special thanks go to OWDNA vice-president Kelly
Jarrett for her help editing.]

*****