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Remembering Victory Stadium: How Roanoke’s lost landmark changed sports and civil rights

It’s been 20 years since the demolition of Victory Stadium

Twenty years. That’s how long it’s been since Victory Stadium fell to the wrecking ball and bulldozers.

The stands where 25,000 fans once cheered, the goal posts, the gridiron, all gone.

What remains is an empty field, a few bricks given away as mementos, and long-ago memories of a game played right here that changed sports and civil rights history.

A Night That Changed Everything

Sixty years ago, in August 1961, the Pittsburgh Steelers played the Baltimore Colts right here in Roanoke, and they won. But the real story wasn’t just about football.

WSLS was there to cover it all. Loyal 10 News viewer Larry Ronk remembers, because he was there. Back then, Ronk played both football and basketball for Patrick Henry High School, number 50 on the field. He went to the Steelers-Colts game to see his favorite players, like NFL legend Johnny Unitas.

But for anyone who wasn’t white, Roanoke was a different place. Brenda Hale, now 80, was 15 in 1961. As a young Black woman, her Roanoke was “very segregated. And at one time, we were known as the most segregated city in the South,” she said. “In 1961, you can’t go certain places. And you know you have to stay in certain areas when the sun goes down.”

Local historian Jordan Bell explained, “Roanoke was slowly integrating, because it was a quiet integration, some behind closed doors, but it was something that was very important to the City of Roanoke.”

Taking a Stand

Back in January, Roanoke historians Jordan Bell and Nelson Harris, the former mayor, told 10 News how two local civil rights leaders and Black players took a stand.

“And so, the Black players on both teams said they would not play in the game, they would not play if the game went forward. And that took this conversation to an entirely new level,” Harris said.

Brenda Hale remembers, “What happened is that it worked, their plan worked, and these were two brilliant guys. And that was the first time we had an integrated football game.”

“Thirteen thousand people attended the game, and Black and white fans mingled in the stadium seating. There was absolutely no problems, no issues, no law enforcement problems of any kind,” Harris said.

Ripples Beyond Roanoke

The desegregation that happened here sparked change elsewhere. Black Boston Celtics players boycotted a game in Lexington, Kentucky. The following year, the Washington Redskins started to recruit Black players, beginning with Bobby Mitchell.

And yet, the story of that spark seems to have faded over 65 years.

“In large part because Victory Stadium isn’t there anymore,” Bell said. “And two, people are uncomfortable talking about painful parts of our history.”

More Than Just Football

Victory Stadium was also the venue for music. Virginia’s own Dave Matthews Band drew tens of thousands of fans from as far away as Ohio for a concert in 1998. And for decades, it wasn’t just fans on the field, but cars and crashes. In the 1960s, Donald “Whitey” Taylor staged stock car races and demolition derbies here.

But ironically, demolition is exactly what happened here, because of something more powerful than V-8 engines: the mighty Roanoke River.

The river repeatedly flooded its banks, putting Victory Stadium underwater in 1987, 2001, and again in 2004.

That last flood caused so much damage that a private engineering consultant warned the city of potential safety hazards.

The gates were closed in March 2005. Yellow tape went up. And 20 years ago this week, Victory Stadium came down.

The Final Farewell

As demolition crews worked, the Roanoke River rose again, flooding the field as the walls fell. Someone painted a farewell message: “Goodbye, Old Friend.” Onlookers and elders who built the place winced, and children cheered, likely the last cheers ever heard at Victory Stadium.

Well, except for those lucky few who took home a brick, like Ray Jones, who played football for Jefferson High.

“I think it’s kinda crazy, as many times as I got knocked down on that field, then I come out here and get a stupid ol’ brick!” he said.

So, while the stadium is gone, one can only hope that, for generations to come, Roanoke remembers what happened here, so many years ago.