Pensacola Black History: Claudette Chapman, a life of service, resilience, and legacy
By Sonshine / Photos by Kate Treick Photography and Lisa Player
Claudette Chapman embodies a life enriched by resilience, faith, and dedication. As a mother, Navy veteran and church elder, her experiences highlight the profound importance of family history, cultural heritage and community connection.
A LEGACY OF STRENGTH AND FAMILY
Chapman’s family story is one of triumph and loss, deeply rooted in Pensacola’s African American history. Her great-grandmother, born in 1887, lived in a cherished home on North Hayne Street, a hub of family memories and gatherings. That home, however, was lost to the construction of the interstate, displacing her family and severing physical ties to their legacy.
In her story, “Uprooted,” published in “When Black Folks Was Colored: Volume Two” by the African American Heritage Society, Chapman recounts the pain of losing her family home while emphasizing the enduring legacy of those memories. She sheds light on a part of Pensacola’s history often overlooked: the vibrant neighborhoods sacrificed to urban development, erasing generations of heritage and community.
THE POWER OF COMMUNITY AND CONNECTION
Chapman reflected on her childhood in a close-knit Pensacola neighborhood, where families across 18 blocks supported and cared for each other like extended kin.
“The homes in the neighborhood were bought or rented in the early 1900s, and for decades, the same family occupied those homes,” she said when recounting her story. “Children would leave and then come back to the same neighborhood, bringing with them new family members. Neighbors were friends, neighbors were family through childhood, through young adult, middle age and into old age.”
The neighborhood was more than a place; it was a thriving community of interconnected lives. Churches, family stores and shared traditions strengthened bonds among residents.
“Members of the same family lived next door, across the street, around the corner from each other, and it was hard to tell who was related to whom,” Chapman said. “Everyone in the neighborhood knew each other, and could tell you which child belonged to which family.”
While these physical spaces have disappeared, Chapman continues to honor their spirit. She channels her experiences into educating others about the importance of community and connection. Her stories remind us that preserving our history is vital to understanding the sacrifices and contributions of those who came before us.
BLACK HISTORY AND FAMILY HERITAGE
Chapman’s reflections serve as a call to action, urging us to delve into our history and connect with our roots. She regrets not spending more time listening to the stories of her grandmother and mother, recognizing now the value of their wisdom. She encourages young people and families to seek out narratives of the past and take pride in their cultural identity.
Chapman highlights the importance of resources like the “When Black Folks Was Colored” book series by the African American Heritage Society, which preserves stories of African American experiences. By reading these accounts, individuals can uncover a clearer vision of their future, rooted in the strength and lessons of their past.
A BEACON OF RESILIENCE AND FAITH
At the heart of Chapman’s life is her faith and commitment to empowering others. She uses her platform to educate, exhort and inspire, reminding us that understanding our shared history is key to preserving it.
Through her reflections on the lost neighborhoods of Pensacola and her personal journey, Chapman encourages us to honor the legacy of those who came before us. By doing so, we can ensure their stories live on and continue to shape our communities for generations to come.
An excerpt from Chapman’s story “Uprooted,” published in “When Black Folks Was Colored: Volume Two” by the African American Heritage Society:
In each family there was the house. Sometimes it was the family home, always an older relative’s home. The house was always centrally located and in walking distance from wherever you happened to be. The house was where children had to wait to be picked up and taken to their own homes after school or a meeting at the church. At the house, there was always someone home…. At the house, there was always food on the stove, hot and waiting for whoever just happened to stop by. The food always tasted better, even the vegetables that you didn’t really like, at the house. The house in my family was my great-grandmother Patsy’s house. Mr. John Jones’ store was on the corner.… And my great-grandmother’s house was on the southwest corner, 819 North Hayne…. When you enter the interstate on 110 and look, there is a pecan tree that’s there. Now it’s dying. That was her pecan tree. That was where the house was…. They now call that the Lost Neighborhood, because there are 18 blocks of families that were displaced and 18 blocks of families that were moved all throughout the city. But it was more than just houses that they took to build the interstate.
