In Red Hen aftermath, a community wades through nation's vitriol
| Lexington, Va.
Until about a week ago, a visit to the Blue Phoenix Cafe and Market鈥檚 Facebook and Yelp pages left a fine impression. Patrons raved about the tasty food, the vegetarian options, and the welcoming staff. The place had a nearly five-star grade.
Then, sometime last Saturday, bad reviews 鈥� punctuated by one-star ratings and angry memes聽鈥� began to pour in.聽
鈥淏igots,鈥� one commenter writes.
Why We Wrote This
All politics is local, but one small town shows just how true that is. After a local restaurant asked the White House press secretary to leave, Lexington, Va., has seen vitriolic national debate explode on its doorstep.
鈥淪mells like an outhouse,鈥� according to another.
鈥淭hey are ridiculous hate-filled people. Do not go to this establishment,鈥� warns a third.聽聽
The reason for the hostility sits a few blocks away on West Washington Street. The Red Hen and its owner, Stephanie Wilkinson, made national headlines after Ms. Wilkinson asked White House Press Secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders to leave her restaurant Friday night. Ms. Wilkinson鈥檚 staff 鈥� a number of whom are gay 鈥� had urged her to do so, saying they were uncomfortable serving the official spokesperson for an administration that has, in their view, enacted unconscionable policies toward the LGBTQ community, immigrants, and other minority groups.
The resulting blowback has rocked the city of Lexington, Va., population about 7,000.
The Red Hen has not opened for business since the event. Earlier in the week, protesters arrived from out of town, some bearing Confederate battle flags and anti-gay posters reading 鈥淟et God Burn Them.鈥� One man was arrested for dumping chicken dung in front of the restaurant.
Amenie Hopkins 鈥� co-owner and head chef at Blue Phoenix 鈥� expected she would take a hit, having publicly voiced support for Wilkinson almost as soon as the news broke.
Other businesses in town have also been left reeling. Shop owners, if they could, unplugged their phones after receiving a barrage of harassing calls. Others shunned social media, where nasty comments came unabated. Local leaders have had to check in on folks to see how they鈥檙e holding up.
It was guilt by association to a degree that no one 鈥� including Ms. Hopkins 鈥� saw coming. 鈥淭his town is not a stranger to conflict,鈥� she says. 鈥淏ut this is a new level. And certainly the level of attention it's garnered is new, as well.鈥�
The onslaught, she and others say, has fractured the community. Residents have fallen onto one side or another of a familiar dividing line, turning the city into a parable of our time: an example of what happens when the din and discord of national politics comes home to roost.
鈥淟exington is symbolic,鈥� says Chris Devine, a professor who studies political psychology at the University of Dayton in Ohio. 鈥淚t isn鈥檛 about one issue. It鈥檚 about the nature of political divisions in the country right now. 鈥� Suddenly what is going on at the national level feels very local.鈥�
A town divided
Hopkins, wearing a bright red dress and a colorful bandanna over her dark hair, smiled a lot when she spoke. But it was a tired smile. It was late afternoon on Wednesday, and by then Hopkins and her staff had been fielding angry and sometimes vulgar phone calls and online posts for five days.
Some callers would yell, she says. Others would demand to know whether she would serve a Republican or someone in a 鈥淢AGA鈥� hat 鈥� shorthand for President Trump鈥檚 campaign slogan, 鈥淢ake America Great Again鈥� 鈥� at her establishment. 鈥淚鈥檓 like, 鈥極f course we would,鈥� 鈥� she says.
Still, Hopkins won鈥檛 budge on her decision to stick with Wilkinson, who has reportedly received death threats and did not respond to requests for an interview. Hopkins says she posted a supportive comment on the Red Hen鈥檚 Facebook page almost as soon as she鈥檇 heard about what happened. The bad reviews began materializing 鈥渓iterally two minutes later,鈥� she says.
On Monday, Hopkins published on the Blue Phoenix鈥檚 page reiterating her support for the right of every small business 鈥渢o protect their staff, customers, and the values that define those relationships.鈥�
It鈥檚 not an unpopular stance. Lexington is home to Washington and Lee University, a private liberal arts school. Like most college towns, it leans Democrat: The city in the 2016 elections, while surrounding Rockbridge County voted overwhelmingly for Mr. Trump.
鈥淭his is definitely kind of a blue dot in a red state,鈥� says Jake Sirota, a rising senior at Washington and Lee and editor-in-chief of The Vigil, a progressive student-run paper not associated with the university. He and another student, Dannick Kenon, say they were happy to hear about the exchange at the Red Hen.
鈥淚t was definitely a feeling of pride at the town ... that it actually stood up to an administration I鈥檓 not a fan of,鈥� Mr. Kenon says.
Others were more cautious. One shop owner praised Wilkinson 鈥� 鈥渟he鈥檚 just a wonderful person who鈥檚 helped this town so much,鈥� he says 鈥� but asked that his name not be used because he wants to avoid further harassment.
As the surge of bad reviews continued, however, some business owners quickly took to Facebook to do damage control. Sweet Treats Bakery, also on West Washington Street, on Monday dissociating itself from the Red Hen and its owner鈥檚 actions: 鈥淪weet Treats Bakery DID NOT refuse to serve or turn any one away for any reason and will not be doing so in the future.鈥� The Southern Inn and the Lexington Carriage Company, both Main Street institutions, posted similar disclaimers on their social media sites.
Mare Scott 鈥撀爓ho runs a skincare service, Skin Is In, just down the street from the Red Hen 鈥� doesn鈥檛 blame them. 鈥淧ersonally I think the owner of the Red Hen made a big mistake,鈥� she says. Ms. Scott, who grew up in Washington, D.C., set up shop in Lexington about 17 years ago. She loves her business, is ambivalent about politics, and doesn鈥檛 think the two should mix.
鈥淪he has the right to refuse anybody 鈥� but to kind of think of it in the long term, you know, of how it might affect the rest of us,鈥� Scott says.
To Hopkins at the Blue Phoenix, her fellow proprietors鈥� reactions are disheartening but understandable. In times of turmoil, she says, people tend to close ranks and protect their own. 鈥淚t was like, 鈥楢ll right, hold on to what we have, and we鈥檙e going to be OK if we just hunker down.鈥� 鈥�
Her own response just happened to go a different direction.
鈥淢y personal opinion is that if you don鈥檛 stand up to persecution, if you don鈥檛 stand next to your neighbor when they are being persecuted, you end up losing more than just business,鈥� Hopkins says, her voice soft but firm. 鈥淵ou end up losing a part of yourself. And that鈥檚 irretrievable.鈥�
Battle lines
Jennifer Brown is a slim, sharp woman with a dark bob and bright blue eyes. She speaks fast, with a big smile, but her sentences come out at rapid-fire pace when she鈥檚 on the subject she鈥檚 most passionate about: the conservative perspective.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 condone death threats at all. That鈥檚 just ridiculous,鈥� Ms. Brown says of the treatment Wilkinson鈥檚 received since the Red Hen incident. 鈥淚t鈥檚 shutting down the channels of communication and I would not say to anybody to do that.鈥�
But, she says, she understands why so many people got so fired up after hearing that Ms. Sanders had been asked to leave the restaurant. Conservatives have been treated like outcasts since Trump鈥檚 election, 鈥渢old to shut up, sit down, do nothing,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e鈥檙e frustrated. We鈥檙e the ones constantly being harassed.鈥� She鈥檚 especially upset with California Rep. Maxine Waters (D), who this week publicly called on her supporters to heckle members of Trump鈥檚 Cabinet wherever they find them. (Other Democratic officials with Representative Waters.)
鈥淭hat鈥檚 incredibly reckless,鈥� says Brown, a staunch Trump supporter who chairs the Republican Committee of Virginia鈥檚 6th District, which includes Rockbridge County.
So while she doesn鈥檛 approve of some of the tactics being used against the Red Hen, and certainly against other Lexington businesses, Brown says she鈥檚 hardly surprised. And folks do have a right to express their displeasure, as long as they keep it decent and legal 鈥� like with the Red Hen boycott that the state GOP has called for.
Does she see an end to all this?
鈥淓ither it鈥檚 going to come to a head, or we鈥檙e going to have to start saying, 鈥極K, let鈥檚 sit down and talk again,鈥� 鈥� Brown says between careful bites of her seared salmon sandwich. 鈥淎ll sides are going to have to be willing to have the conversation.
鈥淏ut I think at this point, because everything is so heated, that people are going to draw the battle lines even deeper,鈥� she says.
City folks, country neighbors
Lexington鈥檚 liberal-conservative divide neither begins nor ends with the incident at the Red Hen. Like in many former Confederate states, Civil War history comes alive in Virginia, and places like Lexington 鈥� blue islands in red seas 鈥� regularly become flashpoints for conflict. In 2011, protesters against an ordinance that prohibited the official flying of the Confederate battle flag alongside the US, state, and city flags.
In January last year, tensions when a local advocacy group organized a march to honor the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., on his birthday. The Community Anti-Racism Education, or CARE, initiative, held the march on a Saturday 鈥� the same day that the town traditionally holds a celebration for Confederate generals Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee.
鈥淭here are these touchstone days throughout the year where something always happens and you鈥檙e kind of expecting it,鈥� says Mr. Sirota, the university student.
Despite that, city folks have managed, for the most part, to keep peace with their county neighbors. 鈥淲e row the same direction for economic prosperity,鈥� says city councilman David Sigler. 鈥淭he jobs need to be filled, people need to shop, we work together, our kids all go to school together.鈥�
But there鈥檚 a sense about town that the community isn鈥檛 going to emerge unscathed from this incident, that what鈥檚 been unearthed can鈥檛 be reburied.
鈥淚 think it will certainly leave a scar,鈥� says Michelle Watkins, chair of the Rockbridge County Democratic Committee. 鈥淥nce the wound heals a bit, I think people will be willing to put most of that behind them and say, 鈥極K, let's move forward now.鈥� But that鈥檚 a lesson learned, and the goal will be to not repeat it.鈥�
There鈥檚 also some bitterness. No one likes to be made an example of, residents say. And while the next big headline can鈥檛 come soon enough 鈥� everyone鈥檚 sure that it鈥檚 only a matter of time before America moves on to a new scandal 鈥� some are unhappy with the D.C. political and media machines.
鈥淭here鈥檚 this kind of constant stream of things coming out of Washington that lasts maybe a day or so that are creating the storms, but that have much more lasting effects in the places where the events actually happen,鈥� Sirota says. 鈥淭here's just a lack of regard for consequences in general.鈥�
鈥淲hen they say 鈥榖oycott Lexington businesses,鈥� they鈥檙e not realizing who they鈥檙e hurting,鈥� says Scott, who runs the skincare service.
Hopkins, for whom Lexington has always been home, views the days ahead with a blend of fear and hope. She worries that a rumored gathering of Bikers for Trump in Lexington on Saturday could turn violent, and is bracing for the long battle to reclaim the Blue Phoenix鈥檚 online presence.
At the same time, she鈥檚 heartened by the locals who are posting five-star reviews on the cafe鈥檚 pages in hopes of combating the slew of spiteful comments. And she recalls three instances 鈥� two on the phone and one online 鈥� where an exchange that started out hostile 鈥渆nded up incredibly beautiful,鈥� Hopkins says. 鈥淭hose are the ones that I鈥檓 kind of holding on to, 鈥檆ause that鈥檚 what keeps me from completely losing all faith and hope in humanity.鈥�
鈥淚 hope that this serves as an opportunity for all of us to reflect on what our first reactions were, what our solutions were, how we dealt with all of this,鈥� she adds. 鈥淚 have so much faith in this community and the people in it. We鈥檙e going to be fine.鈥�
Staff writer Patrik Jonsson contributed to this report from Savannah, Ga.
