Disclaimer: This story reflects life at the Methodist Children’s Home in the 1950s, a time when societal norms were different, including the expectation of work as a part of daily life for children. These experiences, shared by alumni, provide a glimpse into the era and the values of responsibility and growth that shaped their journeys.
When Larry arrived at the Methodist Children’s Home in 1954 (now known as UMFS), his life was about to change in ways he couldn’t yet imagine. Raised by his grandmother in Danville, VA, who was growing older and struggling to manage, he didn’t fully understand why he had to leave the familiarity of her care. What he did know was that The Methodist Children’s Home—fondly referred to as “The Home” by alumni of that time—would be a new chapter, and it began with a warm welcome.
“The day I arrived, I was immediately taken to the supply room and given some clothes and shoes,” Larry recalls. After lunch, he was introduced to life on the farm, a place where he quickly felt at home. Though the Farm closed a year later, he returned to The Home, where adjusting to a new routine came naturally. “I had a lot of friends, and we were all proud to be from The Home.”
Discovering Responsibility
Life at The Home wasn’t just about routine; it was about growth. Larry fondly remembers earning 10 cents an hour cutting The Home’s 40 acres of grass. “I thought I was rich,” he laughs. By the time he started high school, he was taking on bigger responsibilities—a paper route, and later, a job ushering at the Capital Theatre on Broad St. across from the train station. Earning 50 cents an hour felt like a fortune at the time, but more importantly, these experiences gave him a sense of independence and purpose.

Moments of Joy and Connection
Amid the work and responsibilities, there were moments of joy and camaraderie. One of the highlights of life at The Home was the singing trips. “We went to churches all over the state,” Larry recalls. “We’d tell about our life at The Home, sing songs, and stay overnight with church members.” These trips weren’t just about sharing music; they were about building connections and showcasing the strength of community.
At 16, a milestone marked a turning point in his journey. With the encouragement of leader Rev. E. Leon Smith, affectionately known by residents as “Pop Smith,” Larry got his driver’s license. “I got to drive on the singing trips without an adult with me,” he says, a reflection of the trust and responsibility that were integral to his experience.
A Launchpad for the Future
When he graduated from high school, The Home continued to support him, sending him to Ferrum College. With this solid foundation, Larry went on to join the Army in 1965—a step that began a new chapter in his life.
Now, as he looks back, Larry sees the lasting impact of those formative years. “I would not be the person, husband, and father that I am today if I had not lived at The Home,” he says. “Thank you is not enough.”
