BUTLER

continued from page 3 way, you could go in them but you couldn’t try on anything. At first when you go in there and you find that you can’t try it on, it makes you angry, but then after a while you realize, well, you just don’t go in there.” Although there were never posted signs that restricted Black customers, Mrs. Butler explains that it “was just understood.” Other local stores had similar discriminatory policies. Mrs. Butler remarks that “you could buy ice cream, but you couldn’t sit down at a table and eat it at the store.” She indicates, however, that the Franklin Simon department store on Kings Highway ushered in a new era for Black shoppers. “Franklin Simon came and they had African Americans working there as [salespeople] and, then, you could go in there and could try [on] anything you wanted.”

Other than riding her bike or occasionally going to the Franklinville Skating Rink if graduated from Delaware Township High School (now Cherry Hill West). Then, after graduating from college, he entered into the U.S. Army, where he completed a fourteen-month tour in Vietnam.

Mr. Robinson was assigned to the artillery battery unit, but admits that he wasn’t “military-minded.” He was terrified of war and recalls the terror of “shooting, guns going off, and hiding under tables.”

The “brotherhood” he shared with fellow African-American soldiers is undeniable. He also notes that “racial tension was always present, but it wasn’t really hostile because we had other things to worry about.” Once their engagements ended, the tertiary camaraderie that existed between soldiers from different races “went back the way it was before we met.” After his required term, Mr. Robinson left the military altogether.

He is affectionate about Haddonfield landmarks. As a young man, he enjoyed fishing with his “Batesville buddies” in the Cooper River pond just off of Kresson Road, opposite the Little League she could get a ride, Mrs. Butler recalls that there wasn’t much to do for young people. Many African-American residents of Haddonfield and its neighboring communities frequented the Cotton Club and other establishments in The Park in Lawnside to socialize with a larger community of Blacks. Although she was not of age, she recalls, “The Cotton Club had live entertainment, and it had a bar.” She remembers the time she sneaked in one door of the club as a teenager only to be “walked out by her neighbor who was a bouncer there.”

The Park was a carnival-type, bustling hub of barbecue and soul food eateries and saloons, which attracted hundreds of mostly African-American patrons from Philadelphia to Atlantic City most weekends during summer.

For over ninety years, Mrs. Butler, who was born and raised on E. Park Avenue, has called Haddonfield her home. What she loves most about her hometown is its tight-knit community. She reminisces about having baseball fields. In the winter, they would ice skate there. He also remembers there was a fresh water spring by the pond and how he used to fill containers to drink water “that was really nice and clean.” block parties that extended several blocks. “We would shut down the end of the driveway and the neighbors would bring out food and everybody would get to know each other.” She also recalls the community parenting style, where everyone supported one another. “If you did something bad and the neighbors saw you, your parents would know.” All children in her community knew the most basic tenet of the neighborhood: “You better be in the house by the time those street lights went on.”

Mr. Robinson’s friends and family especially enjoyed Haddonfield’s Fourth of July celebrations; most memorably, the fireworks display. In addition, since one of his brothers was a “big kid,” he always won the annual softball tossing contest.

After the military tour, he married Anne B. Robinson. The couple have a biological son, Ako Obafemi; Obafemi is a West African name meaning the king loves me. The Robinsons also fostered three children to adulthood, Gale, Lisa, and Adam.

Mr. Robinson’s career was in insurance sales. He retired from Allstate after thirty-seven years of service. For years, when visiting his parents’ home on Ellis Street in Haddonfield, he was admired as a man in a suit with shiny shoes by many local youngsters.

From a rich history of love, family, and community, Mrs. Butler urges others to not “judge a person by their color. We're all the same.” She acknowledges that, although her path was more difficult, her children and future generations can live more harmoniously once they realize how similar all people are. As Mrs. Butler explains, “Things have really changed in Haddonfield. For the better. And I hope they stay that way.”

Dyann Waugh, MD, MS, MPH, FACOEM

“You’re just as smart; you’re just as good; you have just as much on the ball. . . you can do anything you want, don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t,” Dr. Dyann Waugh explains as she reflects on her mother’s words growing up as an African American in Haddonfield, NJ, in the 1950s. Dr. Waugh grew up in a serene, newly built home on Bellevue Avenue. In the early years, she attended Central Elementary School and Haddonfield Memorial High School. Signaling her leadership potential, even