Martinsburg America 250
40 Stories. 250 Years. One American Story.
Explore the people, places and turning points that connect Martinsburg’s history to the broader American experience — from frontier settlement and the Revolution to railroads, civil rights, industry, resilience and the future.
Explore by Theme
Browse the full America 250 archive by topic. Each section below links to the corresponding story anchor.
Frontier, Founding & Early Government (6 stories)
Explore how frontier settlement, local government, the Revolution and early civic leadership shaped the community that became Martinsburg.
Faith, Education & Community Institutions (6 stories)
Explore the churches, schools, civic institutions and community traditions that helped Martinsburg grow from a settlement into a lasting community.
Government, Civic Life & Democracy (6 stories)
Explore the public institutions, civic leadership, voting rights and democratic principles that shaped Martinsburg’s role as a governing center.
Transportation & Infrastructure (6 stories)
Explore how roads, railroads, communication systems and modern corridors connected Martinsburg to the nation.
Commerce, Industry & Economic Development (8 stories)
Explore Martinsburg’s economic story from agriculture and local industry to rail labor, modernization, manufacturing and resilience.
Civil War, Statehood & Reconstruction (5 stories)
Follow Martinsburg through war, freedom, segregation, statehood and the rebuilding that followed.
Service, Sacrifice & National Defense (4 stories)
Explore how national service and sacrifice reached Martinsburg families across America’s major conflicts.
Challenges, Resilience & Renewal (6 stories)
Explore the moments when Martinsburg was tested by economic hardship, public health crises, fire, transition and rapid change.
Martinsburg Today & Looking Forward (6 stories)
Explore the modern chapter of Martinsburg’s growth, communication, reinvestment and connection to the future.
Reflections & Series Conclusion (4 stories)
Return to the series introduction and closing reflections on what Martinsburg’s story means within America’s story.
Time marches on, but today we pause to recognize one of the most important dates in our nation’s nearly 250-year history.
On this day, Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy in the largest combined land, air and sea invasion in history—marking a turning point in World War II and beginning the liberation of Western Europe from Nazi occupation.
The courage, sacrifice and unity shown on D‑Day remind us that freedom is never free. It is secured by ordinary citizens—many very young — answered the call in extraordinary ways.
We remember the men and women from our community who left their homes, families and futures behind to serve. Many never returned, but their legacy lives on in the nation they helped protect.
As we approach America’s 250th anniversary, we honor the D‑Day generation not only for what they achieved on June 6, 1944, but for the lasting example they set for all who follow.
We remember their sacrifice. We honor their legacy. And we remain committed to the ideals they fought to defend.
#America250
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Freedom is never free.
We remember the courage, sacrifice and resolve of the D-Day generation.
02. America 250: Where America’s Story Runs Through Martinsburg
Martinsburg’s story is more than local history—it is a window into the American experience. From its earliest days on the frontier to its role in the Revolution, the Civil War, industrial growth and the ongoing pursuit of opportunity and equality, Martinsburg has reflected many of the defining moments that shaped our nation. What happened here did not happen in isolation; it was part of the same forces that built America. From the frontier to the future—Martinsburg has always been part of America’s story.
Over the next several weeks leading to Independence Day, we invite you to take a journey with us through that history. Each day, we will highlight how Martinsburg has contributed to the broader American story—from the people who settled this land, to the workers who powered industry, to the leaders and residents who helped shape the future.
This is more than a history project—it is a reminder that the story of America is made up of communities like Martinsburg. Places where national events are lived out at the local level, where resilience is tested and where progress continues to take shape.
We invite you to follow along and share your own memories, stories and connections to Martinsburg as we tell this story together.
Because here in Martinsburg, America’s story runs through us—and continues to be written every day.
#America250
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Before Martinsburg had streets, homes or even a name, this land was already part of a larger story.
In the days leading up to Independence Day, we’re telling the story of America—through the story of Martinsburg. From frontier beginnings to today, follow along as we trace the moments, people and places that connect our city to the nation’s history.
Before there was a city here, this was a frontier—but it was not empty. For generations, Native American peoples, including groups associated with the Iroquois Confederacy such as the Tuscarora, traveled through this land for hunting and trade. The valleys and waterways, including Tuscarora Creek and Opequon Creek, were part of an established landscape long before European settlement.
By the early 1700s, settlers began moving into the Shenandoah Valley, drawn by fertile land, water and opportunity. By the 1740s, farms and early settlements were taking shape along Tuscarora Creek. Life on the frontier, however, was uncertain. This was a shared and contested landscape, and early residents faced isolation, harsh conditions and the constant need to protect what they were building.
Places like Aspen Hall—now one of Martinsburg’s oldest homes—began as fortified structures on the frontier, built at a time when survival meant being prepared to defend your home and your community. Nearby, Mendenhall’s Fort offered protection during a dangerous and changing time.
Yet through resilience, adaptation and determination, these early settlers established a lasting community. The same frontier spirit that shaped the nation was present here from the very beginning.
Martinsburg’s story begins with those who knew this land first—and those who came later, determined not just to settle the frontier, but to endure it.
Follow along each day as we lead up to July 4.
#America250
Photo 1: Mendenhall's Fort, built about 1755 by John Mendenhall on site of Aspen Hall
Photo 2: Map of frontier forts courtesy of Berkeley County Historical Society.
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As the frontier community around Martinsburg slowly took shape, so too did the institutions that gave it stability and purpose. This land—long used and traveled by Native American peoples—was becoming something new: a permanent settlement.
In that transition, churches and meeting houses emerged as more than places of worship; they became the backbone of community life, offering structure in an otherwise uncertain world.
Among the earliest of these was Tuscarora Presbyterian Church, established prior to 1745 just outside present-day Martinsburg. It served as a gathering place where families came together not only for faith, but to share news, resolve disputes, support one another and shape the direction of their growing settlement.
As Martinsburg itself began to take form in the late 18th century, other congregations followed. Trinity Episcopal Church, rooted in Norborne Parish, reflected the civic leadership of the early town. The first Trinity Church, constructed in 1776, stood near the corner of South Street and Maple Avenue. Nearby, some of the earliest known burials within Martinsburg took place at what is now Norborne Parish Cemetery, dating to the town’s founding generation in the late 1770s. Methodist congregations also spread through the region as circuit riders brought faith directly to frontier families, showing that faith here was not confined to buildings—it moved with the people.
Over time, these early roots expanded. Presbyterian congregations moved into town, and new traditions emerged, including Catholic communities that would serve a growing and more diverse population in the 19th century. What began as scattered gatherings became a network of institutions that helped define Martinsburg’s identity.
These congregations anchored the frontier in something deeper than geography—they created a shared identity. They instilled values of cooperation, resilience and mutual responsibility that helped transform scattered settlements into a connected community.
From these beginnings, Martinsburg was more than a waypoint on the frontier—it was a community with purpose. And that spirit—of connection, service and shared responsibility—remains part of our story today.
#America250
Pictured: Tuscarora Presbyterian Church,
Illustration from The Circuit Rider: A Tale of the Heroic Age by Edward Eggleston depicting a Methodist circuit rider on horseback.
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Before America was a nation, this region was already building the framework to govern itself.
A community can only grow so far without structure. By the early 1770s, the settlements surrounding Martinsburg had reached that point.
In 1772, Berkeley County was established through an act dividing Frederick County into three counties, creating a framework for law, leadership and civic life in the region. This marked a turning point—from scattered frontier settlements to a more organized and connected community.
With the formation of the county came the ability to govern locally. Leaders could address the needs of residents, manage land and establish systems to support long-term growth. In a region just taking shape, these decisions brought stability and direction.
Just a few years later, in 1778, Martinsburg was founded as the county seat—placing it at the center of this new system of leadership. From the beginning, Martinsburg was not just a settlement, but a seat of governance. Its role in guiding the region started early and continues today.
As the population grew, so did the need for additional local governance. Berkeley County was later divided to create Jefferson County in 1801 (effective 1802) and Morgan County in 1820, reflecting continued expansion. Through these changes, Martinsburg remained a central hub of leadership and regional identity.
At a time when the American colonies were moving toward independence, this region was already building the structures of local government that would help sustain a new nation.
Martinsburg’s story is tied not only to the founding of America—but also to the institutions that keep communities strong.
#America250
Photo courtesy of Library of Congress and HathiTrust: Act creating Berkeley County (1772).
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Before there was a nation, there were people willing to fight for one.
In 1775, when the call to defend colonial rights became a call to arms, this region answered. On June 10, 1775, men from Berkeley County stepped forward, forming the Berkeley County Riflemen under Captain Hugh Stephenson. Nearly 100 volunteers—frontier farmers, tradesmen and citizen-soldiers—equipped themselves with their own rifles, clothing and supplies, answering the call without waiting for a standing army.
Gathering near what is now Shepherdstown (and part of Berkeley County in 1775), these volunteers became some of the first southern troops to join General George Washington’s Continental Army. On July 17, they began a remarkable journey, marching more than 600 miles to Boston in what became known as the Bee Line March. In just over three weeks, they reached Washington’s command and stood ready to fight for independence.
Henry Bedinger, one of the riflemen, recorded the journey in his diary, capturing both the movement and emotion of the moment:
“Set out from Potomack towards Boston… took leave of all friends… and marched on. The inhabitants along the road treated us with the greatest respect, showing much kindness and giving what assistance they could.”
Among the riflemen were men whose stories are tied to this region. Abraham Shepherd, a young officer and Bedinger himself were part of the same Berkeley County communities that would soon give rise to Martinsburg. They returned not just as veterans, but as leaders, helping guide a region still taking shape.
What began in 1775 would become a long and difficult struggle. The Revolutionary War would last eight years, ending in 1783 with American independence finally secured. One year after the riflemen marched north, in 1776, the United States declared independence, setting in motion a bold experiment built on liberty and self-government.
While history often points to Philadelphia and Boston, the spirit of that moment was alive here as well—in communities already learning to organize, govern and support one another.
The Revolutionary War reshaped daily life, strengthening the need for structure, cooperation and leadership. Out of that moment, Martinsburg took form.
In 1778, the town was established as the county seat of Berkeley County, placed at the center of a growing community along vital travel routes. It was founded during the Revolution, shaped by the same forces transforming the country—growth, necessity and the steady work of building something lasting.
Martinsburg was born into a time of uncertainty, but also of opportunity. Like the nation itself, it grew by adapting, organizing and moving forward.
It would not be the last time residents of Martinsburg and surrounding communities sacrificed and answered the call to defend our nation over the next 250 years.
And, while we eventually broke up with King George—King Street and Queen Street are still here and waiting for your visit.
#America250
Photo courtesy of Jefferson County Historic Landmarks Commission
https://emergingrevolutionarywar.org
Example of a soldier’s diary: Americanrevolutioninstitute.org
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In 1778, just two years after the United States declared independence, Martinsburg was officially established by General Adam Stephen.
The nation was still in the midst of the Revolutionary War, and its future remained uncertain. Yet even in that moment of instability, communities like this one were being intentionally planned and built.
Stephen was not just a local landowner. He was a Scottish-born physician, a veteran of the French and Indian War, and a major general in the Continental Army. After years of military service alongside figures like George Washington, he returned to western Virginia and turned his attention to something just as important—building a place where a new nation could take root.
No image of Adam Stephen survives—but the community he laid out in 1778 still stands today.
Martinsburg was founded not by accident, but by design. Stephen laid out approximately 130 acres into lots and streets, carefully planning a town that could serve as the county seat of Berkeley County. He donated land for public buildings, helped organize its layout, and positioned the town along key travel routes through the Shenandoah Valley.
Even before its official founding, this area was already beginning to take shape. Settlers had been living along Tuscarora Creek since the 1740s. By the mid-1770s, there were dozens of homes, mills powering early industry, a stone jail completed in 1774, and a courthouse under construction that would be finished soon after the town was chartered.
The land itself held even deeper roots. Fortified homes and frontier defenses like Mendenhall’s Fort, built in the 1750s, once stood here. George Washington knew this ground, having garrisoned troops in the area and noted these early fortifications during the French and Indian War. Some of that early history still stands today—Aspen Hall, first built in 1745, remains the oldest surviving home in Martinsburg.
When the Virginia General Assembly formally established the town in 1778, Stephen named it Martinsburg in honor of Colonel Thomas Bryan Martin, a nephew of Lord Fairfax. The name reflected both the land’s origins and the connections that shaped its early development.
The timing of Martinsburg’s founding is significant. It did not emerge after the Revolution—it emerged during it. While independence was still being fought for, towns like Martinsburg were being built to support a system of self-government, commerce and community life.
From the beginning, Martinsburg was part of something larger. It was more than a settlement—it was part of the effort to turn independence into a functioning nation.
What Stephen laid out here in 1778 was not just streets and lots, but the foundation for a community that would grow alongside the United States itself.
#America250
Photo: Original plat of Martinsburg
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What Adam Stephen laid out in 1778 was more than streets and lots.
He laid the foundation for a community that would grow alongside the United States itself.
Martinsburg’s story includes direct connections to the leaders who helped shape a new nation.
Before the city was founded, George Washington traveled through the Shenandoah Valley as a young surveyor, studying the land and recognizing its future potential. That early work helped guide how this region would develop in the years that followed.
Washington is also known to have visited what is now Martinsburg and attended a wedding at Mendenhall’s Mill, located at present-day Aspen Hall—then part of a fortified frontier community.
But Martinsburg’s connection to leadership did not end with the founding generation.
By the early 1800s, figures tied to the presidency were already passing through the city. In 1830, Secretary of State Martin Van Buren—later President—visited Martinsburg and stayed at the Globe Hotel.
The region also produced leaders of its own. Charles J. Faulkner, from Berkeley County, served in Congress and as a diplomat, reflecting the area’s early role in national affairs.
One Martinsburg native would go on to serve in the President’s Cabinet. Newton D. Baker, born here in 1871, became U.S. Secretary of War during World War I—helping lead the nation through one of the most critical periods in its history.
With the arrival of the railroad, Martinsburg became a regular stop along the path of national travel. Presidents and candidates passed through, often greeted by crowds gathering at the station or in the public square.
Theodore Roosevelt spoke here in 1912. Woodrow Wilson was welcomed by large crowds in 1916. Herbert Hoover addressed thousands in 1932.
Other leaders came during significant national moments. Franklin D. Roosevelt and Calvin Coolidge both drew large crowds during the 1920 campaign, and in 1923 the community paused as President Warren G. Harding’s funeral train passed through Martinsburg.
That connection continued into the modern era. Dwight D. Eisenhower campaigned in Martinsburg in 1952, and John F. Kennedy visited during the 1960 primary—part of the campaign that would carry him to the White House.
From the founding generation to the present, Martinsburg has remained closely tied to the leaders shaping the nation—not as a distant observer, but as a place where those leaders stopped, engaged with residents, and became part of the city’s story.
Even today, Martinsburg continues to maintain strong relationships with state and federal leaders—carrying forward a tradition of engagement that spans generations.
#America250
Photo courtesy of Aspen Hall Manor - property where Washington visited.
Historical details on presidential visits provided in part by the Berkeley County Historical Society
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In the years following its founding, Martinsburg began to grow alongside a young and developing nation. The Revolutionary War had ended, independence had been secured and communities across America were turning their attention to building stable governments, local economies and connected regions. Martinsburg was part of that early growth.
As the county seat of Berkeley County, Martinsburg quickly became a center of activity. By the late 1770s, construction of the town’s first courthouse was underway and it was completed in 1779, establishing Martinsburg as a place where leadership, law and community life came together.
By the early 1800s, the town began to take on a more defined and permanent character. Homes and public buildings were constructed to serve a growing population, including structures like the Boarman House, built in 1802, one of the earliest brick homes in the city, and Boydville, built in 1812, which still stands today. These buildings reflected a community moving beyond its frontier beginnings and establishing lasting roots.
Commerce and daily life were supported by local mills along Tuscarora Creek and Opequon Creek. Roads connecting Martinsburg to Winchester and Shepherdstown strengthened trade and movement, helping the town develop into a regional hub.
As the town continued to grow, Martinsburg became a place where government, business and community life came together. What began as a planned town was taking root as a functioning and connected community.
Martinsburg’s development in the early 1800s reflected something larger—a young nation moving from independence to stability. America was beginning to define its identity, and communities like Martinsburg were helping shape what that would become.
On this Flag Day, we’re reminded that the same nation taking shape in those years is represented by a symbol that still unites us today.
#America250
Photos courtesy of Boydville and Town Square and Martinsburg‑Berkeley County CVB
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Martinsburg didn't just witness history —
it helped shape it.
On Flag Day, we’re reminded that America’s story is lived in communities like Martinsburg.
Over the past week, our America 250 series has been tracing the early chapters of this community—and its place in the founding of our nation.
From frontier settlements along Tuscarora and Opequon Creeks… to the churches and gathering places that anchored daily life… to the creation of Berkeley County in 1772… to the birth of a nation in 1776… to the founding of Martinsburg in 1778 by General Adam Stephen— This story didn’t happen somewhere else.
It happened here.
We’ve also highlighted Martinsburg’s direct connection to the founding generation, including George Washington’s visit to Aspen Hall, and the early roads that began establishing this city as a gateway in a growing republic.
From the very beginning, Martinsburg has been part of America’s story—not on the sidelines, but within it.
Now, the story moves forward.
From transportation and railroads to industry, war, resilience, civil rights and growth—some of the most defining chapters for Martinsburg and America are still ahead.
Follow along each day as we continue this journey to July 4 in celebration of America 250.
Missed a post? Visit our page to catch up on the story so far.
#America250
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Before Martinsburg became a city, it became a crossroads—connected to a growing nation.
As Martinsburg grew in the early 1800s, its success was shaped not just by local development, but by its connections to the surrounding region. Roads linking the town to Winchester and Shepherdstown became essential routes for trade, travel, and communication, tying Martinsburg to markets across the Shenandoah Valley.
These routes connected to the broader Great Wagon Road, one of the most heavily traveled transportation corridors in early America, running through the Shenandoah Valley and linking communities from Pennsylvania to the southern colonies. The route generally followed the same natural corridor later used by today’s Route 11 and Interstate 81—illustrating how geography has long shaped movement through the region.
If you’ve traveled Route 11 or Interstate 81, you’ve followed the same corridor once traveled by Conestoga wagons more than 250 years ago.
Through this network, farmers and merchants moved grain, livestock, and goods into and out of Martinsburg, connecting the town to a growing national economy.
Within Martinsburg, activity centered around the public square and courthouse, where government, legal matters, and business transactions took place. Nearby, mills along Tuscarora and Opequon Creeks processed grain from surrounding farms, forming the backbone of the town’s early economy.
As travelers, merchants, and settlers passed through, Martinsburg became a natural meeting point for exchange and communication. Its location allowed it to grow into a regional hub—bringing together people, goods, and ideas.
What had once been a frontier settlement was becoming part of a more connected and organized nation.
These early connections laid the groundwork for future transformation. The same routes that supported trade and travel in the early 1800s would soon give way to even larger transportation networks, including the railroad—shaping Martinsburg’s next chapter and its continued role in the region.
#America250
Photos: 1847 plat of Martinsburg and the Great Wagon Road (Carolana.com) Map reference: “A Map of the Most Inhabited Part of Virginia…” (1751), Joshua Fry & Peter Jefferson; published by Thomas Jefferys, London, 1755.
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As Martinsburg grew from a frontier settlement into an established town, so too did the need for order, safety, and protection. What began as neighbors looking out for one another gradually evolved into formal systems dedicated to protecting lives and property.
In the earliest days, there were no organized police or fire departments. Safety rested with the people themselves. Local leaders, constables, and sheriffs enforced basic laws, settled disputes, and helped maintain order, while neighbors came together quickly in times of need.
Fire posed a constant threat. With wooden structures, open flames, and closely built homes, a single spark could devastate an entire block. Bucket brigades would line the streets, passing water hand to hand in a race against time. In 1823, town officials took one of the first organized steps toward fire protection by purchasing ladders and buckets—laying the foundation for a more coordinated response.
As the town expanded, so did the need for structure. In 1870, Martinsburg formally established its fire department, building on the work of early volunteer companies such as Westphal Fire Company No. 5, which continues to serve the community today. Over time, those early efforts grew into permanent stations, including the long-standing fire facility on Raleigh Street that has served generations of residents.
Law enforcement followed a similar path. After incorporation in October 1778, maintaining order became increasingly important as the community grew. By 1868, Martinsburg had established a formal police department, marking the transition to a structured system of public safety. Today’s Martinsburg Police Department, now located on West Race Street, reflects that same continued investment in professional policing.
These developments marked a turning point. Martinsburg was no longer just surviving—it was building the institutions needed for a stable, resilient, and growing community.
From bucket brigades and watchful neighbors to today’s professional police and fire departments, the mission has remained the same: a commitment to protect one another.
And that commitment continues to define Martinsburg today—while the City looks ahead to the future, including plans to expand fire protection with a third station on the west side of I‑81 to meet the needs of a growing community.
#America250
Photos courtesy of Westphal #5 Fire Company; Martinsburg Police Department on Town Square.
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With strong connections to surrounding communities, Martinsburg continued to grow as a center of commerce and opportunity in the decades following its founding. Agriculture, trade and local enterprise supported the town’s development and linked it to broader economic activity across the Shenandoah Valley.
As the community expanded, so did its role as a place for business and exchange. By the mid‑1800s, structures like the Martinsburg Market House, built in 1847, reflected the city’s growing importance in daily life and regional commerce. Residents and farmers gathered there to buy, sell, and trade goods—reinforcing Martinsburg’s position as a hub for the region.
Today, the Market House has been renovated and is home to Ascend WV, continuing its legacy as a place that brings people, ideas, and opportunity together.
Beyond the Market House, early industry took shape across the community. Mills along Tuscarora Creek and Opequon Creek processed grain from surrounding farms, while blacksmiths, wagon makers, and small manufacturing shops supported both agriculture and transportation. Tanneries and skilled tradesmen helped meet everyday needs, creating a more diverse and self‑sustaining local economy.
Merchants, general stores, and taverns served both residents and travelers, reflecting Martinsburg’s growing role along important regional routes. These businesses connected the town to broader markets and helped fuel its continued growth.
Martinsburg was becoming more than a county seat—it was emerging as a center of economic activity. The same spirit of opportunity shaping a young nation was alive here, laying the groundwork for the rapid expansion that would soon follow with the arrival of the railroad.
#America250
Photo: Market House on Queen Street / Burke, courtesy of the Berkeley County Historical Society.
Everett House: Former building corner of Burke/Queen.
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Long before modern highways and neighborhoods, this region was defined by something simpler—and more enduring: agriculture.
In the early days of settlement, nearly every farm included an orchard. Apples weren’t just a crop—they were essential to daily life—eaten fresh, preserved for winter, and pressed into cider, one of early America’s most reliable beverages.
As settlers moved through the Shenandoah Valley—along routes that would become today’s Route 11 and I-81—they planted seeds, cleared land, and built farms that helped sustain a growing nation.
Here in the Eastern Panhandle, fertile soils and a favorable climate helped transform agriculture into a driving force of the American economy. Beginning in 1851, commercial orchards spread rapidly across Berkeley County and the surrounding region—helping turn apples from a local farm crop into a product that could feed cities and reach markets far beyond the valley.
With the arrival of the railroad, Martinsburg became part of something larger. Apples grown here could be shipped quickly to East Coast markets, connecting local farmers to a growing national economy.
By the late 1800s and early 1900s, orchards blanketed the landscape. The Eastern Panhandle became a regional hub of apple production, supporting hundreds of orchards and feeding communities across multiple states. Processing companies like National Fruit in Martinsburg and C.H. Musselman in nearby Inwood helped transform local harvests into products distributed across the country.
Apples weren’t just part of the economy—they became part of our identity.
While many of those orchards have been replaced by neighborhoods and development over the years, agriculture—and the orchards that remain—continue to play an important role in our community and economy.
That legacy is still visible today:
• From the “Applemen” name and local traditions
• To the Mountain State Apple Harvest Festival
• To the orchards that still surround our community
And in downtown Martinsburg, the Apple Time Capsule on King Street stands as a symbol of that legacy—set to be opened in 2040, reminding us that this story isn’t finished—it’s still being written.
From the orchards that once covered this valley to the farms and markets that continue today,
America’s story didn’t just pass through Martinsburg: Martinsburg helped feed a growing nation.
And it grew here.
#America250
Photos: West Virginia & Regional History Center (WVRHC)
Map of West Virginia showing areas suitable for apple growing and major commercial orchard regions (ca. 1901)
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By the mid‑1800s, Martinsburg’s growth and location had made it more than a regional center of commerce—it had become a strategic crossroads of national importance.
That transformation accelerated dramatically with the arrival of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad in the 1840s.
For the first time, Martinsburg was directly connected to major cities and markets, linking the community to a national transportation network.
That connection came quickly.
The first locomotive reached Martinsburg in May 1842, and by November of that same year, the city saw its first passenger train. Within a few years, a station and hotel complex—built around 1848–1849—served travelers moving through this growing rail hub.
Running east to Baltimore and west toward the Ohio River and the expanding frontier, the B&O line placed Martinsburg along one of the nation’s most important transportation corridors—linking Atlantic commerce with westward expansion.
As rail traffic increased, the B&O constructed extensive shop facilities in Martinsburg, including maintenance shops and two roundhouses that supported operations along this critical corridor.
The railroad changed everything.
What once took days by wagon could now be moved quickly and efficiently by rail. Goods, materials and people flowed through Martinsburg at an unprecedented scale, fueling economic growth and attracting new industry and opportunity.
The city was no longer just connected to the region—it was connected to the country.
This new infrastructure elevated Martinsburg’s importance almost overnight. Its rail lines became vital corridors for commerce and communication, making the city a key link between the eastern seaboard and the expanding western frontier.
With that importance came both opportunity—and vulnerability.
When the Civil War began, Martinsburg’s rail connections made it a critical target. Control of the railroad meant control of movement—troops, supplies and information. The same infrastructure that drove growth now placed the city at the center of a national conflict.
Trains, tracks and rail yards were repeatedly contested and destroyed as control of the region shifted.
More than 175 years later, the rail connection remains.
Martinsburg is still an active rail hub, with Amtrak and MARC passenger service linking the city daily to Washington, D.C. and beyond—carrying forward a legacy that began with those first trains in 1842.
While rail service continues today, the rail shops, which had operated in Martinsburg for more than a century, closed in 1988, marking the end of an era in the city’s industrial history.
Martinsburg’s role during this period reflects its significance not just to the region, but to the nation.
The arrival of the railroad transformed the city—turning a growing town into a strategic and economic hub at a pivotal moment in American history.
#America250
Photo Credits
Photo 1 (rail yard with workers and locomotives):Baltimore & Ohio Railroad shops, Martinsburg, West Virginia, Civil War era (c. 1860s). Workers, locomotives, and coal cars are shown within one of the nation’s most strategically important rail centers. Source: PhotoQuest / Getty Images (archival collection)
Photo 2 (station/hotel building): Baltimore & Ohio Railroad depot and hotel, Martinsburg, West Virginia, late 19th century. Source: West Virginia & Regional History Center (WVU Libraries)
Photo 3 (roundhouse and yard): Baltimore & Ohio Railroad shops and roundhouse complex, Martinsburg, West Virginia. Source: Library of Congress
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The railroad changed everything.
The arrival of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad transformed Martinsburg from a growing town into a strategic and economic hub connected to the nation.
When the Civil War began on April 12, 1861, with the opening shots at Fort Sumter, the nation was still less than a century old—and its future uncertain. Over the next four years, until April 1865, communities across the country would be drawn into a conflict that would redefine the United States.
In Martinsburg, that impact came almost immediately.
Within weeks of Virginia’s move toward secession, Confederate forces entered the city. By June 1861, Colonel Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson had taken control of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad at Martinsburg and began systematically dismantling it—marking the first major wartime action in the community.
What had made Martinsburg prosperous—its railroads and strategic location—now made it a target. Control of the city meant control of movement along one of the most critical transportation corridors in the country.
Jackson’s operations were among the most remarkable of the early war. Under orders to deny the Union use of the railroad, Confederate forces burned rail cars, destroyed infrastructure, and tore up track. In a feat of engineering and manpower, about 14 locomotives were dismantled and hauled south by horse-drawn teams, eventually reassembled for Confederate use. Dozens more were destroyed or disabled.
The scale of destruction was significant. Rail yards, bridges, and critical infrastructure were repeatedly damaged and rebuilt, reflecting the high stakes of controlling this vital corridor.
Martinsburg quickly became a contested city. The first major fighting in the area occurred in early July 1861, when Union forces crossed the Potomac, clashed with Confederate troops, and occupied Martinsburg on July 3.
From that point forward, control shifted again and again. Over the course of the war, Martinsburg changed hands approximately 37 times, making it one of the most contested places in the region.
The city also saw a number of well-known Civil War figures operate in or pass through the area. Stonewall Jackson directed early Confederate operations here, supported by cavalry under J.E.B. Stuart. Later in the war, Confederate General Jubal Early’s forces again moved through the city during the 1864 campaign toward Washington. Local figures were also intertwined with these events, including Charles James Faulkner of Martinsburg, who served on Jackson’s staff, and whose family home, Boydville, remains a historic landmark.
Martinsburg’s wartime experience also included deeply personal stories.
Residents like Belle Boyd—born in the city and later known as one of the Confederacy’s most famous spies—lived through the uncertainty as control of the town shifted again and again.
Boyd first gained national attention in July 1861 after shooting a Union soldier during an early occupation of the city. In the years that followed, she gathered intelligence from Union officers and relayed it to Confederate commanders, becoming one of the most recognized figures of wartime espionage.
Her story reflects how the conflict extended beyond the battlefield, involving civilians caught between opposing forces. Her family home on East Race Street still stands today, a visible reminder of those who experienced the war firsthand.
Even as the war progressed, Martinsburg remained in the path of conflict.
Confederate and Union forces returned again and again, with significant activity continuing into 1864 before Union control was more firmly established in the final year of the war.
The scenes captured here—from damaged rail facilities and troop positions to a regional campaign map showing Martinsburg’s strategic location, alongside the image of Belle Boyd and her surviving home—reflect the reality of a community in the direct path of war.
Despite these challenges, the people of Martinsburg endured. The community continued to function, rebuild and adapt in the face of conflict. What had once been a center of commerce became a place defined by resilience and determination.
Martinsburg’s experience during the Civil War reflects its importance not just to the region, but to the nation.
This was not a distant battlefield—this was home, and the same streets we walk today stood at the center of a war that would define the future of the United States.
#America250
Photo Credits
Image 1: “Views in and Around Martinsburg, Virginia,” engraving by Alfred R. Waud, published in Harper’s Weekly, December 3, 1864. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Image 2: Map of the Shenandoah Valley and Valley Campaigns, showing Martinsburg’s strategic position along the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and Valley Pike. Courtesy of Library of Congress.
Image 3: Belle Boyd, Confederate spy, Brady-Handy photograph collection. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Image 4: Belle Boyd House, 126 East Race Street, Martinsburg, West Virginia. Photo by City of Martinsburg / Berkeley County Historical Society.
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This was not a distant battlefield.
The same streets we walk today stood at the center of a war that would define the future of the United States.
As the Civil War moved toward its conclusion, the meaning of the conflict began to shift. What began as a fight to keep the country together became a defining moment in the effort to end slavery and expand freedom.
President Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, issued January 1, 1863, declared enslaved people in Confederate states to be free—transforming the purpose of the war. But for many, freedom depended not only on that declaration, but on Union victory and enforcement. Here in Martinsburg, that reality was clear.
Occupied, contested and strategically vital, the city saw constant movement of both Union and Confederate forces as control shifted throughout the war. Its rail lines made it a critical target, placing the community at the center of the conflict and the broader struggle over transportation and communication. At times, the outcome of the war itself was not certain.
More than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation, on June 19, 1865—known today as Juneteenth—Union troops arrived in Galveston, Texas and issued General Order No. 3, informing the last enslaved people that they were free.
Freedom was not delivered by message alone—it arrived with the presence of Union forces who made its promise a reality.
The conflict that passed through Martinsburg was part of that larger effort. Sustained Union control of key rail lines and infrastructure in regions like the Eastern Panhandle ultimately helped ensure the war could be brought to its conclusion—making it possible for emancipation to be enforced across the country.
The end of the war brought both relief and uncertainty, but it also marked the beginning of a new chapter. The nation faced the work of rebuilding—not only infrastructure, but the principles upon which it stood. At the same time, the nation also mourned its President, assassinated in April 1865, only days after the effective end of the Civil War. Lincoln’s leadership had transformed the war into a fight for freedom and set emancipation in motion.
Freedom, once contested, was more firmly embedded in the American story—but it would take generations to define, and remains a work in progress.
Juneteenth offers a moment to reflect on that transformation—and to recognize that the path to freedom ran not only through distant places, but through communities like Martinsburg as well.
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Photo 1: General Order No. 3, issued June 19, 1865, by U.S. Maj. Gen. Gordon Granger, informing the people of Texas that all enslaved people were free.
Photo 2: Emancipation Proclamation, issued January 1, 1863, by President Abraham Lincoln, declaring enslaved people in Confederate states to be free.
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Juneteenth marks the moment when freedom reached the last enslaved people in 1865, but defining and securing that freedom would take generations.
As the nation worked to define freedom after the Civil War, the promise of Reconstruction brought real change.
Between 1865 and 1870, three constitutional amendments reshaped the country. The 13th Amendment abolished slavery. The 14th Amendment established citizenship and guaranteed equal protection under the law and the 15th Amendment sought to protect the right to vote regardless of race. Together, they were intended to define freedom in law and secure it for future generations.
For a time, those changes opened new opportunities.
But that progress did not go unchallenged.
Across the country, laws and practices emerged that limited those gains. Black Codes restricted freedom and economic opportunity, while new barriers were put in place to limit political participation.
As Reconstruction came to an end, a system of segregation began to take hold. Often described as “separate but equal,” it created divisions in schools, public spaces and daily life. In practice, opportunities and services were rarely equal.
In West Virginia, state law required separate schools for white and African American students, reflecting a broader system of segregation that developed after Reconstruction. In Martinsburg, the Martinsburg Colored School—established in 1867 with support from the Freedmen’s Bureau and later known as Sumner‑Ramer School—served as a center of education and community life for African American families building opportunity in a segregated society.
These changes also affected access to resources and participation in civic life. Barriers to voting and unequal public services reflected a widening gap between the rights promised in law and the realities experienced by many.
This period reminds us that progress is not always permanent. Rights can be challenged and change can move unevenly.
The effort to fully define and secure freedom did not end with Reconstruction. More than 100 years after the Civil War, the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s grew out of generations of advocacy and inequality. Through protests, legal challenges and civic action, new federal laws—including the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965—worked to end legal segregation and remove long-standing barriers to voting and equal access under the law.
In Martinsburg and across the country, the story of Reconstruction did not end with new laws. It continued through the efforts of communities determined to move forward, even when the path was difficult.
As we remember Juneteenth and reflect on freedom, this chapter reminds us that defining and protecting that freedom has taken generations.
#America250
Image 1: “Colored Waiting Room” sign, Rome, Georgia, 1943, photographed by Esther Bubley for the Farm Security Administration. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Image 2: Segregated public facility interior, illustrating the separation of public spaces under Jim Crow laws. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Image 3: 13th Amendment to the United States Constitution, ratified December 6, 1865, abolishing slavery. Courtesy of the National Archives.
Image 4: President Lyndon B. Johnson signs the Civil Rights Act of 1964 in the East Room of the White House, July 2, 1964. Civil rights leaders and members of Congress look on. Courtesy of the Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Library and National Archives.
Image 5: Civil rights marchers during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, August 28, 1963, advocating for equal rights and an end to segregation. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
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Freedom was declared in 1776. Expanding its promise took generations.
Happy Birthday West Virginia!
Just one day after the nation reflects on freedom and the end of slavery, West Virginia marks the anniversary of its own beginnings.
On June 20, 1863, in the midst of the Civil War, West Virginia became the 35th state— the only state admitted to the Union during the Civil War—born not in peace, but in the uncertainty, conflict and urgency of a nation divided.
For communities like Martinsburg, this moment was deeply personal. By the time West Virginia entered the Union, Martinsburg had already experienced nearly two years of military occupation, raids, battles and destruction associated with the war.
Situated along the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad—one of the most important transportation lines in the country—Martinsburg became a strategic hub for the movement of troops, supplies and communication, making it vital to the Union war effort.
The city’s location in the northern Shenandoah Valley and the presence of significant Unionist sentiment set it apart during the conflict. Historian Jonathan A. Noyalas notes in Encyclopedia Virginia that “Martinsburg, however, stubbornly remained Unionist” during Virginia’s secession crisis. On May 23, 1861, Martinsburg residents voted approximately three-to-one against secession, making it the only locality in the Shenandoah Valley to oppose secession in the statewide referendum. While loyalties in the region were often divided, Martinsburg’s importance to transportation and military operations helped shape both its wartime experience and its future.
The creation of West Virginia was closely tied to President Abraham Lincoln, who approved its admission to the Union and supported the formation of a state that would remain loyal during a time of rebellion. Statehood was not merely a political act—it was a wartime decision shaped by geography, allegiance and necessity.
The inclusion of the Eastern Panhandle reflected those same dynamics. Residents of Berkeley and Jefferson Counties voted to join the new state, though the process remained controversial and was later challenged by Virginia. The region's position along critical transportation routes—including the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad—made it strategically important during the war.
That dispute continued after statehood. Virginia challenged the transfer of Berkeley and Jefferson Counties, but Congress and the courts ultimately upheld their place in West Virginia.
For Martinsburg, this new chapter brought both challenges and opportunity. The years following statehood required rebuilding, recovery and a renewed focus on growth. Yet the same strengths that had sustained the community during the war—its location, its people and its connections—continued to shape its future.
West Virginia Day offers a moment to reflect not only on the creation of a state, but on the role of communities that helped define it.
Martinsburg’s story is part of that foundation—a reminder that even in times of division, new beginnings can emerge.
#America250
Photo: H.J. Res. 17 (February 19, 1866), approving the transfer of Berkeley and Jefferson Counties to West Virginia. Courtesy of the National Archives.
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The same forces that made Martinsburg a target during the Civil War would help rebuild it in the years that followed.
In the aftermath of war and the creation of West Virginia, Martinsburg shifted from conflict to recovery. A city that had endured repeated occupation and destruction turned toward renewal.
Railroads led the way.
Following widespread damage in 1861 and 1862, the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad rebuilt its facilities in Martinsburg, including the roundhouse and machine shops beginning in 1866. These projects restored critical connections and helped revive the local economy.
The city already had a foundation to build on. The train station, originally constructed in 1848, remained standing and continued to serve the community, linking Martinsburg once again to the broader region.
As rail service returned, so did commerce.
Businesses reopened, and the Martinsburg Market House once again became a center of trade. Merchants and craftsmen returned to their work. Farmers brought goods into town. The flow of people and products began moving again.
Recovery could be seen not just in rail yards and storefronts, but along the streets where residents lived. Neighborhoods stabilized, and daily routines returned as the city rebuilt itself block by block.
Civic life followed that same pattern. The courthouse and public square remained central to government and community activity, anchoring Martinsburg during a time of transition.
Within a few short years, Martinsburg had moved from a battleground to a center of growth. The same infrastructure that had drawn conflict now supported expansion, reconnecting the city to a rebuilding nation.
Martinsburg’s story did not end with war—it continued through rebuilding. The ability to recover, adapt and move forward became part of the city’s identity, shaping the path toward the Martinsburg we know today.
#America250
Photo Credits
View of South Queen Street looking north, Martinsburg, West Virginia, ca. 1906.
West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries.
B&O Railroad Martinsburg Roundhouse, constructed beginning in 1866 (historic elevation drawing).
Historic American Engineering Record / Library of Congress.
Commercial building at Queen and Burke Streets, Martinsburg, West Virginia.
West Virginia & Regional History Center.
South Queen Street residential view, Martinsburg, West Virginia.
West Virginia & Regional History Center.
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As Martinsburg rebuilt after the Civil War, the city entered a new era of growth driven by one of the most important transportation systems in America—the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad.
The railroad’s reconstruction brought jobs, investment and renewed opportunity to a community that had endured years of conflict and destruction. Beginning in 1866, the B&O rebuilt its shops and roundhouse in Martinsburg, creating a major railroad maintenance and repair center that helped support commerce throughout the region and the nation.
Martinsburg’s railroad facilities became an essential link in the transportation network connecting eastern markets with the growing American interior.
Skilled machinists, blacksmiths, carpenters, boilermakers and engine crews worked in the sprawling railroad complex, repairing locomotives and railcars that carried passengers and freight across the country. Martinsburg was no longer simply a stop on the railroad—it had become a place where the nation’s industrial economy was kept moving.
Yet prosperity was accompanied by economic uncertainty. In 1873, a financial crisis known as the Panic of 1873 triggered a severe economic depression after major railroad investments collapsed and banks that financed railroad expansion failed. Businesses closed, unemployment rose and workers across the country faced wage reductions and economic hardship. The resulting downturn, often called the Long Depression, created growing tensions between labor and management.
Those tensions came to a head on July 16, 1877, when B&O workers in Martinsburg walked off the job after another 10 percent wage cut. Railroad employees halted train traffic, moved locomotives into the roundhouse and refused to allow trains to leave the yard. What began in Martinsburg quickly spread along the railroad network, becoming the Great Railroad Strike of 1877—often regarded as the nation’s first nationwide labor strike.
The response revealed just how deeply the conflict affected the community. Local authorities struggled to restore service, and state militia units faced pressure because many militia members were railroad workers themselves or had close ties to railroad families.
The confrontation became deadly on July 17, when William Vandergriff, a striking railroad fireman, was fatally wounded while attempting to stop a train from leaving the yard.
West Virginia Governor Henry M. Mathews then requested federal assistance. President Rutherford B. Hayes dispatched federal troops to Martinsburg, and trains began moving again under military protection. But by then, the strike had spread far beyond West Virginia—to Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Chicago, St. Louis and other communities across the country.
Violence erupted as workers, militia units and federal troops clashed. Railroad property was damaged or destroyed, and more than 100 people were killed nationwide, with some estimates placing the number as high as roughly 160. What began as a local protest over wages had become a national crisis over labor, industry and the use of government power.
Although the strike did not immediately achieve all of the workers’ demands—and some viewed it as a short-term failure—its long-term impact was profound. The events of 1877 exposed the hardships facing industrial workers, contributed to the growth of organized labor and helped shape future debates over wages, working conditions and the role of government in labor disputes.
Martinsburg’s role in the Great Railroad Strike of 1877 demonstrates that American history is not shaped only in the nation’s largest cities. Sometimes it begins in communities like ours. The same railroad that helped rebuild Martinsburg after the Civil War also placed the city at the center of a defining national conversation about work, fairness and economic opportunity.
From rebuilding a shattered transportation network to becoming the birthplace of a movement that helped reshape the relationship between workers, employers and government, Martinsburg remained connected to the forces transforming the United States.
The story of American industry and labor is, in part, a story that began right here.
#America250
Photo Credits: The Great Railroad Strike of 1877 at Martinsburg, West Virginia, period illustration, public domain.
Federal troops escorting a Baltimore & Ohio Railroad train during the Great Railroad Strike of 1877, published in Harper’s Weekly, August 11, 1877, public domain.
Sources: National Park Service; Encyclopedia Britannica; U.S. History Project; West Virginia Encyclopedia; B&O Railroad Martinsburg Shops National Historic Landmark documentation.
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One of America's first great labor movements began in Martinsburg.
When railroad workers walked off the job in July 1877, a local dispute quickly spread across the nation, becoming the Great Railroad Strike of 1877.
As Martinsburg grew in the late 1800s and entered the twentieth century, so did the institutions that supported everyday life. Beyond railroads and industry, the city built the foundations of a connected community through schools, churches, banks, civic buildings, health care and community organizations.
Churches such as First Presbyterian, Trinity Episcopal and St. Joseph Catholic brought residents together and served as centers for worship, education and charity. These congregations reflected the important role faith communities played in shaping Martinsburg’s identity.
Education expanded as well. Martinsburg High School first opened in 1874 in a frame building at Queen and Stephen Streets with five classrooms. In 1883, the prominent high school building on South Queen Street was constructed, reflecting a growing commitment to public education. In 1928, Martinsburg High School opened at its present South Queen Street campus.
The origins of what later became Sumner-Ramer School trace to 1867, when educational opportunities for African American students were established in Martinsburg after the Civil War. Sumner-Ramer served Martinsburg’s Black community through the era of segregation. Berkeley County schools integrated in 1964, and Sumner-Ramer closed soon after, in 1965, ending nearly a century of its role as a central educational institution for the city’s African American community.
Civic and commercial institutions also shaped daily life. The Old National Bank, organized in 1865, became one of the city’s enduring financial institutions and reflected Martinsburg’s growing commercial life.
The Market House, Berkeley County Courthouse, public square and downtown streets connected residents through commerce, law, local government and civic identity.
Built in 1847, the Market House served as Martinsburg’s public market for roughly a century, continuing in that role until around the World War II era. It also housed Masonic and Odd Fellows halls, reflecting the important role fraternal organizations played in fellowship, charitable work and community engagement.
The federal government also had a visible presence downtown. The U.S. Court House and Post Office, completed in 1895, connected Martinsburg residents to national systems of communication, law and public service. Together with the county courthouse and public square, it reinforced Martinsburg’s role as a center of civic life.
Health care became part of the city’s institutional foundation as well. King’s Daughters Hospital opened in 1896 after a group known as the King’s Daughters purchased and remodeled a former prison building. By the early twentieth century, it had also become a place for nurse training, expanding Martinsburg’s role in care, service and professional education.
City Hospital also became an important part of Martinsburg’s health care story. Founded by Dr. Theodore Kensell Oates, City Hospital traces its origins to 1904, when Oates purchased property at Burke Street and Maple Avenue for what became the hospital. The institution later grew into what is now Berkeley Medical Center.
By the early twentieth century, institutions such as the YMCA further expanded the city’s civic and social life. Built in 1908 on West King Street, the former YMCA building later served as Martinsburg City Hall from 1932 to 1988, continuing its role as a place connected to public service and community life.
Together, these institutions helped transform Martinsburg from a recovering railroad town into a true community. Many of the churches, schools, businesses, civic buildings, health-care institutions and traditions that shape Martinsburg today trace their roots to this era.
Martinsburg had built more than railroads, businesses and public buildings. It had established institutions that would guide the community through a new century of growth, innovation and change.
The story of Martinsburg is not only one of railroads and industry. It is also the story of classrooms, congregations, civic halls, hospitals, community organizations and neighbors whose efforts created the foundations of the city we know today.
#America250
Photo Credits:
Photo 1: Early Sumner-Ramer School. The origins of the school trace to 1867, when educational opportunities for African American students were established in Martinsburg following the Civil War.
Photo 2: Trinity Episcopal Church, Martinsburg, historic photograph. Courtesy of Trinity Episcopal Church archives.
Photo 3: Old National Bank Building, Martinsburg. Courtesy of the West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries.
Photo 4: King’s Daughters Hospital, Martinsburg. Courtesy of the West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries, West Virginia History OnView.
Photo 5: Y.M.C.A. Building, Martinsburg, W. Va. Springfield College Archives and Special Collections, Cliff Smith YMCA Postcard Collection, via PICRYL.
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When the Declaration of Independence proclaimed that “all men are created equal,” it set forth one of the most powerful ideals in world history. Yet from the beginning, the nation struggled to fully live up to that promise. For nearly 250 years, Americans have continued the work later described in the Constitution’s Preamble: forming a “more perfect Union.”
Through war, public debate, political compromise, social movements, court decisions, sacrifice and hard-fought struggles, Americans have continually debated who should enjoy the full rights and opportunities promised by the nation’s founding ideals. From independence forward, the promise of equality was limited, contested and unevenly applied.
Only after the Civil War did African American men receive national constitutional protection for the right to vote through the 15th Amendment, ratified in 1870. Even then, discriminatory laws and practices continued to restrict that right for generations.
Women still had not been granted national constitutional protection for the right to vote and would not receive it until ratification of the 19th Amendment in 1920 — 144 years after the Declaration of Independence.
As Martinsburg entered the twentieth century, the meaning of American democracy was still expanding. The right to participate fully in self-government grew slowly, often only after long and difficult struggles.
Across the country, women were organizing, advocating and demanding the right to vote. In West Virginia, that effort gained momentum in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries as suffrage organizations formed and pressed for change. The West Virginia Equal Suffrage Association, organized in 1895, helped carry the movement forward through meetings, campaigns, and public debate.
The movement faced strong resistance. In 1916, West Virginia voters considered a state constitutional amendment to grant women the right to vote. It failed overwhelmingly across the state. In Berkeley County, the result showed how difficult that change would be locally: only about one-quarter of voters supported women’s suffrage, while roughly three-quarters voted against it.
Despite that opposition, Berkeley County was not isolated from the larger national movement and push for equality. In September 1916, the Martinsburg Evening Journal reported that organizers Josephine Miller, Gertrude Watkins, and Mrs. T. T. Cotnam were working in Berkeley County on behalf of the equal suffrage campaign. Watkins was a nationally active suffrage campaigner from Arkansas who traveled across several states advocating for women’s voting rights. Their work helped bring the statewide suffrage campaign directly to local communities, connecting Martinsburg and Berkeley County residents to a movement unfolding across the nation.
In 1920, West Virginia became part of a nationally watched moment in the struggle for women’s suffrage. Congress had approved the 19th Amendment in 1919, but it still required ratification by 36 states. When West Virginia’s State Senate deadlocked, Senator Jesse Bloch returned from California to cast the deciding vote. On March 10, 1920, West Virginia became the 34th state to ratify the amendment.
Five months later, Tennessee became the 36th state to ratify the 19th Amendment, completing the process that made women’s suffrage part of the United States Constitution. For the first time, most American women gained constitutional protection for the right to vote — although many women of color still remained subject to discriminatory voting barriers for decades.
The story of voting rights in Martinsburg was not limited to women’s suffrage. It also included the longer struggle of African Americans to secure equal citizenship after the Civil War and the Reconstruction Amendments that sought to define that equality. African American men gained constitutional protection for the right to vote through the 15th Amendment in 1870, but in many parts of the country, barriers such as literacy tests, poll taxes, intimidation and discriminatory laws prevented that right from being fully exercised for generations. It would take the Voting Rights Act of 1965 to provide stronger federal protections for voting rights.
Martinsburg had an important voice in that broader struggle through J. R. Clifford. A teacher and later principal at Sumner School, Clifford founded the Pioneer Press in Martinsburg in 1882. The newspaper became West Virginia’s first Black newspaper and gave Clifford a platform to advocate for African American rights. Clifford later became the first African American in 1887 admitted to practice before the West Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals.
Clifford’s work connected Martinsburg to the larger civil rights story. Through education, journalism, law and activism, he helped push the nation toward a broader understanding of citizenship, equality and constitutional rights. His connection to the Niagara Movement also linked Martinsburg to a national effort demanding fuller civil and political rights for African Americans.
Local newspapers, public meetings, and elections carried these national debates over civil rights and equality into everyday life in Martinsburg. The Pioneer Press was separate from the Evening Journal, which began publication in Martinsburg in 1907 and later became the Martinsburg Journal.
In communities like Martinsburg, the expansion of democracy was not simply an idea discussed far away. It was debated in newspapers, tested at the ballot box and shaped by the work of local citizens who believed the promise of America should become more complete.
The questions at the heart of these debates continued beyond the 19th Amendment and the Voting Rights Act. Each generation has inherited the responsibility of considering how the nation’s founding ideals apply in its own time. The expansion of voting rights was not a single moment. It was part of an ongoing American effort to determine who has a voice in government and how the nation gives fuller meaning to the promise of equality.
Martinsburg’s story reflects America’s 250 year journey — imperfect, unfinished and still reaching toward its highest ideals. The work of expanding democracy and equality has often been slow, messy, painful and at times marked by violence and loss. But generation after generation, ordinary Americans — in communities across the nation — have continued, however imperfectly, the effort to give fuller meaning to the promise that “all men are created equal” and to move America closer to a “more perfect Union.”
#America250
Photo Credits:
West Virginia Equal Suffrage Association, c. 1910s — West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries
Women casting ballots after adoption of the Nineteenth Amendment — Encyclopedia Britannica
JR Clifford, West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries
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Before our America 250 series transitions into the 20th century, it’s worth noting that history is not made only by famous leaders, major events or names printed in textbooks. History is also made by ordinary people — workers, teachers, parents, ministers, merchants, veterans, students, athletes, artists, neighbors and families who build communities one generation at a time.
Since its founding in 1778, Martinsburg’s story has been shaped by people whose lives reflected the opportunities, conflicts, struggles, contradictions and progress of America itself. Some became nationally known. Most did not. Some are remembered with admiration, some with controversy and many are known only through the streets, neighborhoods, churches, schools, businesses and institutions they helped build.
Among the names remembered in Martinsburg’s history is General Adam Stephen, the Revolutionary War officer who laid out the town and helped secure its place as a center of government and commerce in Berkeley County after its incorporation in 1778.
The town itself was named for Thomas Bryan Martin, a nephew of Lord Fairfax, whose family connections were tied to landholding and development in the region.
Early civic life was also shaped by Elisha Boyd, a lawyer, soldier and public official whose family home at Boydville became closely connected to Martinsburg’s political and social history.
During the nineteenth century, Martinsburg was home to figures whose influence stretched far beyond the region. Charles James Faulkner Sr., lawyer, congressman, diplomat and longtime Boydville figure, served in Congress and as United States Minister to France. His career connected Martinsburg to national and international affairs during one of the most significant periods in American history.
Martinsburg’s connections to national service also extended to the United States Navy through figures associated with the city, including Rear Admiral Charles Boarman and Rear Admiral C. K. Stribling. Their careers reflected Martinsburg’s ties to military service across multiple generations.
Martinsburg also gave rise to David Hunter Strother, better known by his pen name Porte Crayon. An artist, author, journalist and soldier, Strother introduced readers across the nation to the landscapes, people and culture of Appalachia through his writings and illustrations.
During the Civil War, Martinsburg gained national attention through Belle Boyd, one of the most famous and controversial figures of the conflict. Born in Martinsburg, Boyd became known as a Confederate spy whose wartime activities connected the city to some of the most dramatic and divisive events of the era.
The pursuit of equality also shaped Martinsburg’s story. J. R. Clifford, educator, newspaper publisher, Civil War veteran and the first African American admitted to practice law in West Virginia, became one of the state’s most important civil rights advocates. Through the courts, the press and public advocacy, Clifford fought for educational opportunity and equal treatment under the law.
As Martinsburg’s story moved toward the 20th century, Newton D. Baker carried the city’s name into national public service. Born in Martinsburg, Baker later became mayor of Cleveland and served as United States Secretary of War during World War I.
But Martinsburg’s history was never written by famous names alone.
It was also written by railroad workers who kept trains moving, machinists who repaired locomotives, teachers who educated children, ministers who led congregations, merchants who opened businesses, factory workers who powered local industry, mothers and fathers who raised families and neighbors who invested in their community.
In 1877, ordinary railroad workers in Martinsburg helped launch what became the Great Railroad Strike of 1877, demonstrating that everyday citizens could influence the course of American history. Their actions began here, but the impact spread far beyond Martinsburg.
Together, these people — known and unknown — transformed a frontier settlement into a railroad center, an industrial community and the hub of the Eastern Panhandle. They built homes, established churches, supported schools, created businesses, shaped neighborhoods and passed down a community that each generation has continued to build upon.
That tradition continues today. Martinsburg’s story is still being written by public servants, educators, business owners, volunteers, coaches, artists, musicians, athletes, students, families and neighbors who contribute in ways large and small. Some have carried Martinsburg’s name onto larger stages — from Olympic competition, Major League Baseball and the NFL to the arts, public service, business, education and community leadership. Many others shape the city quietly through daily work, service and commitment.
As America approaches its 250th anniversary, Martinsburg’s story reminds us that history is not simply the story of famous leaders. It is also the story of ordinary Americans whose work, sacrifice, creativity, perseverance and hope built communities, created opportunities and passed a better future to the generations that followed.
The names of Adam Stephen, Thomas Bryan Martin, Elisha Boyd, Charles James Faulkner Sr., Charles Boarman, C. K. Stribling, David Hunter Strother, Belle Boyd, J. R. Clifford and Newton D. Baker, among others, deserve to be remembered. But Martinsburg’s story also belongs to the countless residents whose names will never appear in history books. Their legacy remains in the streets we travel, the neighborhoods we call home, the schools and churches that shaped generations and the institutions that continue to serve this community.
Their story is Martinsburg’s story.
And their story is America’s story.
#America250
Photo 1: Rear Admiral Charles Boarman — Naval History and Heritage Command.
Photo 2: Charles James Faulkner — Courtesy of the West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries.
Photo 3 David Hunter Strother (Porte Crayon) — Public domain image.
Photo 4: J. R. Clifford — Courtesy of the West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries
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A new century brought new possibilities to Martinsburg.
As the twentieth century dawned, the city stood between two worlds. Railroad whistles still echoed through the community, horses still pulled wagons along many streets and the institutions built during the nineteenth century remained strong. Yet new technologies, industries and inventions were beginning to transform daily life across the nation. America was entering the modern age, and Martinsburg was changing with it.
A 1902 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map offers a snapshot of the city at this moment of transition. Railroads, factories, businesses, churches and neighborhoods filled a growing community that remained closely tied to its nineteenth-century roots while preparing for the opportunities of a new century.
The railroad remained the backbone of daily life. The Baltimore & Ohio Railroad continued to connect Martinsburg to major cities and markets, moving passengers, products and ideas across the country. Railroad shops, roundhouses and rail yards provided employment for generations of residents and reinforced Martinsburg's role as one of the region's most important transportation centers.
At the same time, America was entering the age of the automobile—and Martinsburg became part of that story. In the early twentieth century, the city became home to the production of the Norwalk Underslung Six, a low-slung luxury automobile marketed as "The Car of Absolute Exclusiveness." Known for its innovative design and performance, the Norwalk is generally regarded as the most successful and longest-produced motor vehicle manufactured in West Virginia. The company's presence demonstrated that Martinsburg was connected to one of the most transformative technological changes in American history.
Built by local workers, mechanics and craftsmen, the Norwalk reflected the skill and ambition of a community helping shape a new era of transportation. The same city that had grown because of the railroad was now participating in the automobile revolution.
The automobile's impact was felt locally as well. Martinsburg's streets, businesses and public services began adapting to a new era of transportation. Early motorized fire apparatus joined horse-drawn equipment, roads improved and residents gained new mobility. Martinsburg's first motorized fire engine was built on a Norwalk chassis, demonstrating how innovations produced locally were reshaping everyday life.
New technologies continued to change how people lived and worked. Electricity became increasingly common, telephones improved communication and expanded water and sewer systems strengthened public health. Across the country, Americans were embracing modern conveniences, and Martinsburg was no exception.
For ordinary families, these changes brought new opportunities and conveniences. Travel became easier, communication faster and access to goods and services more reliable. The benefits of progress could increasingly be seen not only in factories and businesses, but also in homes and neighborhoods throughout the community.
Education, churches, civic organizations and local businesses expanded alongside these improvements. Institutions built during the nineteenth century provided stability during a period of rapid change and helped prepare Martinsburg for the opportunities of a new era.
Within a generation, Martinsburg residents experienced changes that would have seemed remarkable to many of their grandparents. The city adapted while continuing to grow as a commercial, industrial and transportation hub.
Yet as Martinsburg embraced the opportunities of a new century, larger events were already gathering beyond the horizon. The nation was becoming an increasingly important force on the world stage, and before long World War I would touch communities across America, including Martinsburg.
This new century marked another turning point. The community that had emerged from the frontier, survived the Civil War and helped launch the Great Railroad Strike of 1877 was now embracing new industries, new technologies and new opportunities.
The twentieth century had arrived, and Martinsburg was ready—not merely to witness the changes transforming America, but to help shape them.
#America250
Photo Credits:
Photo 1: 1902 Martinsburg Sanborn Fire Insurance Map.
Photo 2: Norwalk Motor Car Company factory, Martinsburg.
Photo 3: Norwalk Underslung Six automobile.
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World War I began in Europe in 1914. When the United States entered the conflict in 1917, communities across the country were called to support the war effort — and Martinsburg was no exception.
The city’s location, workforce and industries connected it directly to one of the defining events of the twentieth century.
Martinsburg’s contribution was measured not only in railroad shops, factories and local industries, but also in the service and sacrifice of its people. Local residents volunteered, enlisted and served overseas. Families followed news from Europe while supporting soldiers and relief efforts at home. Like communities across America, Martinsburg celebrated those who returned and mourned those who did not.
The Baltimore & Ohio Railroad once again proved its importance. Martinsburg’s shops, roundhouses and rail yards were part of a transportation network that helped keep people, goods and supplies moving during a time of national mobilization. As America prepared for war, railroads remained among the nation’s most important strategic assets, and Martinsburg sat along one of those critical corridors.
Industry supported the war effort at home as well. Interwoven Mills, already one of the nation’s leading hosiery manufacturers, employed local workers and produced goods for a growing national market. Other local industries, including mills, machine shops and manufacturers tied to the railroad, helped sustain both civilian life and a nation at war.
Martinsburg’s connection to World War I also reached the highest levels of national leadership. Newton D. Baker, a Martinsburg native, served as U.S. Secretary of War during the conflict. From Washington, Baker helped oversee America’s military mobilization, training programs and the enormous task of preparing the nation for war. His leadership placed a Martinsburg native at the center of one of the most significant events of the twentieth century.
Among those remembered is Charlotte Agnes “Lottie” Cox of Martinsburg, whose life reflected both local roots and national service. Born in Martinsburg in 1876, Cox became a trained nurse and later volunteered for overseas service during World War I. She served with U.S. Army Base Hospital No. 42 in France, where nurses cared for sick and wounded soldiers far from home.
After her death in 1918, a newspaper article remembered her as a “Town Girl, Trained Nurse” who had “made the supreme sacrifice in France.” The article also noted the consolation that she had “gave up her life that other might live.” Her story reminds us that service took many forms. Some carried rifles into battle. Others cared for the sick and wounded far from home. All shared in the sacrifices demanded by wartime service.
Cox’s story also belongs within Martinsburg’s broader history of care and service. During this same era, King’s Daughters Hospital on East King Street served the community, and a nurses’ training school opened there in 1914. Together, these local and national stories remind us that the demands of war reached into hospitals, homes, families and communities.
The war’s toll was felt not only on distant battlefields. In 1918, disease swept through military camps, hospitals and communities around the world. The influenza pandemic struck during the final year of the war, and other illnesses also claimed lives among those serving overseas. Many families faced the dual hardships of war and disease. Cox died of dysentery while serving in France, and her sacrifice reflected the dangers faced by nurses and medical personnel as well as soldiers.
The impact of the war can still be seen today at War Memorial Park, where the Doughboy monument honors the service and sacrifice of Berkeley County’s citizens. Dedicated in 1925, the memorial honors the 41 Berkeley County residents who lost their lives during World War I and recognizes more than 1,000 county residents who served during the conflict.
For many local families, the names carved into the monument represented fathers, sons, brothers, nurses, friends and neighbors whose lives were forever changed by the war.
World War I reaffirmed Martinsburg’s place in the American story. From railroad shops and factory floors to hospitals, military service and national leadership, Martinsburg helped keep a nation supplied, connected and moving during one of the defining conflicts of the twentieth century.
The war years also coincided with a period of rapid change. Electricity expanded, telephones became more common and motor vehicles increasingly appeared on city streets. The transformation taking place across America could also be seen in Martinsburg as the community moved deeper into the modern age.
For Martinsburg, the war marked the end of one era and the beginning of another. The frontier town founded in 1778 had become a modern American community — connected to global events yet grounded in the hard work, service and sacrifice of its people.
The names on the Doughboy monument remind us that even in a small community, the costs of war were personal. Through service, sacrifice and perseverance, Martinsburg’s citizens helped carry America through one of the defining moments of the twentieth century.
#America250
Photo Credits:
Interwoven Mills workers, Martinsburg, March 1916.
Charlotte A. Cox of Martinsburg.
Interwoven Mills, Martinsburg.
Doughboy Monument, War Memorial Park, Martinsburg.
Source: Martinsburg Journal, “Supreme Sacrifice, Town Girl, Trained Nurse, Dies in France,” October 9, 1918, as cited in the West Virginia Veterans Memorial profile for Charlotte Agnes Cox and reproduced in part on her Find a Grave memorial.
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The names on the Doughboy Monument remind us that history is personal.
Behind every name was a family, a neighbor and a life changed by war.
The end of World War I ushered in a new era of growth, optimism and transformation.
As Americans looked toward the future, Martinsburg entered the 1920s with confidence, opportunity and a growing sense of progress.
Across America, the 1920s were a decade of motion. Automobiles changed how people traveled, radios changed how people received news and entertainment, airplanes changed how communities imagined distance and industry connected local workers to national markets. In Martinsburg, those same national forces could be seen in busy downtown streets, growing neighborhoods, expanding factories and the early development of Shepherd Field.
Railroads remained central to daily life, connecting Martinsburg to expanding regional and national markets. Downtown activity flourished along Queen and King Streets, where stores, banks, hotels, public gatherings and busy streetscapes reflected a community on the rise. At the same time, the growing presence of automobiles on city streets signaled the arrival of a new age and changing ways of life.
Transportation was changing in the air as well as on the ground.
Martinsburg’s connection to early aviation began in the years after World War I, when communities across the country were beginning to imagine the future of flight. In 1922, local businessman Alex Parks helped organize the Berkeley Aviation Committee to promote aviation in the area. By 1923, the committee was working with the Army Airways Office at Bolling Field near Washington, D.C. as the Army encouraged communities to identify emergency landing fields along a developing airway from Washington toward Cumberland, Moundsville and Dayton, Ohio.
The site that became Shepherd Field was selected south of Martinsburg after the Shepherd family offered land for aviation use. Local volunteers helped prepare the field, and the first landing took place on June 17, 1923, when Capt. St. Clair Streett landed a D.H. 4 at Shepherd Field, accompanied by Sgt. Roy Hooe. What began as a community-supported landing field soon became part of Martinsburg’s identity.
By 1925, aviation was no longer only something local residents watched from a distance. George Kershner and his sons were photographed at Shepherd Field with a Sopwith Camel, described in the airport’s history as the first airplane owned by someone from Berkeley County. The aircraft had previously belonged to Lawrence Sperry, known for his work on the autopilot and gyroscope.
The aviation story continued far beyond the 1920s. Shepherd Field was later deeded to the City of Martinsburg in 1934 and became Martinsburg Municipal Airport. In 1972, the Eastern West Virginia Regional Airport Authority was created, beginning the regional airport chapter that continues today.
That small landing field has grown into a major economic and public service asset. Today, Eastern West Virginia Regional Airport, also known as MRB, reports an annual economic impact of more than $350 million. The airport also plays an important role in national defense as home to the West Virginia Air National Guard’s 167th Airlift Wing. What began as an open field prepared by local volunteers became a regional transportation hub, an economic driver and a place tied to military aviation and service to the nation.
Industry continued to drive growth. Textile mills and garment factories produced hosiery, woolens and clothing, providing steady employment and supporting a growing population. Interwoven Mills, one of Martinsburg’s largest employers, helped make the city an important manufacturing center in the region. By the 1920s, the company’s products were sold throughout the United States, and its success reflected the city’s growing connection to a national economy. The company’s reach extended beyond Martinsburg, with branch plants developing in nearby states during the 1920s, showing how local industry was tied to broader regional and national markets.
Martinsburg’s prosperity could be seen throughout the community. New homes, businesses and neighborhoods reflected the aspirations of a growing middle class. Areas such as what is now the West Martinsburg Historic District took shape during this period, featuring popular architectural styles including Bungalow, Craftsman and American Foursquare homes. These neighborhoods reflected a nationwide movement toward homeownership and modern living.
Cultural life flourished as well. The Apollo Theatre, built in 1913 and opened in January 1914, became one of Martinsburg’s important gathering places just as motion pictures and modern entertainment were becoming part of everyday American life. Designed by Reginald Geare with local architect Chapman E. Kent and built by theater owner H. P. Thorn, the Apollo was used for movies, vaudeville and concerts, with upper floors providing meeting spaces for large groups. By the 1920s, places like the Apollo helped connect Martinsburg residents to the same cultural changes taking place across the country, as Americans embraced film, music, touring performers and new forms of leisure.
The Apollo’s architectural connection also carried a sobering footnote. Reginald Geare also designed Washington, D.C.’s Knickerbocker Theatre, where a roof collapse during a January 1922 snowstorm killed 98 people and injured 133, becoming one of DC’s deadliest disasters.
The decade also brought visible signs of confidence and civic pride. The opening of the Shenandoah Hotel in 1926 created a modern landmark in downtown Martinsburg and reflected the city’s growing role as a commercial and transportation center for the Eastern Panhandle. Funded through a local investment campaign, the hotel quickly became a centerpiece of social, business and community life.
The Shenandoah Hotel’s later history reflected changing downtown and travel patterns. After becoming the Gateway Inn during the 1960s, the hotel eventually closed as lodging space, leaving much of the building vacant for decades before its recent rehabilitation.
Advancements in electricity, telephones, transportation and public infrastructure continued to reshape daily life. Radios brought news, music and entertainment from around the country into American homes, while automobiles gave families greater mobility than ever before. The same technological changes transforming America were changing Martinsburg as well, connecting residents to a faster-moving and increasingly modern world.
For many residents, the 1920s represented a period of possibility. Businesses expanded, new conveniences became commonplace and opportunities seemed abundant. The decade became known nationally as the “Roaring Twenties,” a time of economic growth and optimism that left a lasting mark on communities across the country, including Martinsburg.
Yet beneath the prosperity, challenges remained. Economic success was not shared equally by all Americans, and few could foresee how quickly conditions would change.
In 1929, the stock market crash marked the beginning of the Great Depression, bringing economic uncertainty to communities across the nation. Like others, Martinsburg would soon face new hardships, relying once again on the resilience that had carried it through war, industrial expansion and earlier challenges.
The 1920s marked both achievement and transition. Martinsburg entered the decade as a thriving railroad and manufacturing center and emerged as a more modern, connected and confident community. In that way, Martinsburg reflected the larger American story of the decade — a nation moving faster, building higher, producing more and imagining a future that seemed almost limitless until the Great Depression reminded communities across the country how quickly circumstances could change.
#America250
Photo Credits
Photo 1: Queen Street, Martinsburg, early twentieth century — Shenandoah Publishing House postcard collection.
Photo 2: George Kershner and sons with a Sopwith Camel at Shepherd Field, 1925 — Eastern West Virginia Regional Airport / flyMRB History. The aircraft was the first airplane owned by someone from Berkeley County and had previously belonged to Lawrence Sperry, inventor of the autopilot and gyro.
Photo 3: Apollo Theatre as originally constructed, 1913, first occupied in January 1914 — Apollo Civic Theatre Historical Collection.
Photo 4: Shenandoah Hotel opening day, February 25, 1926 — Courtesy of The Shenandoah Historic Collection.
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The prosperity and optimism of the Roaring Twenties came to an abrupt end with the stock market crash of 1929. As the Great Depression spread across the nation, businesses struggled, unemployment rose and families faced economic uncertainty. Martinsburg, like communities across America, felt the effects.
The city's economy remained closely tied to the industries that had fueled its growth for generations. The Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, Interwoven Mills, Berkeley Woolen Company, Perfection Garment Company and other local manufacturers remained important to daily life, but difficult economic conditions created new challenges for employers and workers alike.
The pressure of the Depression was especially visible in Martinsburg's textile and garment industries. Interwoven Mills, long one of the city's largest employers, had prospered for decades before the 1929 crash and the difficult years that followed. In 1934, Interwoven workers joined the Textile Workers of America's nationwide strike. According to the West Virginia Encyclopedia, approximately 80 percent of Interwoven's employees walked out, forcing the company to operate with a skeleton crew. Martinsburg workers found themselves at the center of one of the major labor struggles of the Depression era.
The same uncertainty was felt elsewhere in the city. Berkeley Woolen Company managed to keep its doors open throughout the Depression, but workers there also faced difficult conditions. In 1933, Berkeley Woolen employees walked out after management refused to recognize the United Textile Workers as their bargaining agent. After intervention by the National Labor Review Board and several days of negotiations, employees returned to work, ending what the West Virginia Encyclopedia describes as Martinsburg's first textile strike.
These labor disputes reflected a larger reality facing working families throughout Martinsburg. During the 1930s, labor-management tensions increased in the city's textile and garment industries as workers sought greater security during uncertain economic times. The challenges facing Martinsburg mirrored struggles unfolding across the nation as Americans searched for ways to weather the Depression and rebuild their lives.
For ordinary residents, the Great Depression was not an abstract national crisis. It was felt in pay envelopes, factory schedules, household budgets and kitchen-table decisions. Families postponed purchases, repaired rather than replaced household items and stretched limited resources as far as possible. Churches, civic organizations and neighbors often stepped forward to help those facing hardship.
Even in hard times, community life continued. Baseball remained one of the ways Martinsburg residents gathered, cheered and found moments of normalcy. The city’s baseball tradition reached back to Martinsburg’s Blue Ridge League days, when the local franchise played under names including the Champs, Mountaineers and Blue Sox between 1915 and 1929. As the Blue Sox, Martinsburg won league titles in 1922, 1923 and 1924. At Rosemont Park, near today’s Roush Field, future Hall of Famers Hack Wilson and Lefty Grove began their professional careers. By 1935, after the minor league era had ended, the Blue Sox name still appeared locally with a semi-pro Martinsburg team. A 1935 team photograph preserved by West Virginia History OnView identifies Hack Wilson as manager, showing how baseball remained part of Martinsburg’s identity during the Depression years.
Downtown Martinsburg remained the center of community life, but the character of daily life changed. Businesses along Queen and King Streets worked to survive leaner times, while residents followed developments through newspapers such as The Martinsburg Journal, which chronicled both the struggles and perseverance of the community during the Depression years.
The Depression also changed the relationship between Americans and the federal government. Before the 1930s, relief for hardship was often understood primarily as the work of families, churches, charities, local communities and local governments. The scale of the crisis forced a national response. Through the New Deal, the federal government took on a far larger role in American life — providing relief, creating employment programs, regulating banks and financial markets, supporting labor rights, investing in public works and creating new forms of economic security. That shift became one of the defining changes of twentieth-century American history and reshaped what many Americans expected government to do in times of widespread crisis.
Across the country, New Deal programs sought to provide relief, recovery and opportunity. In Berkeley County, federal programs created employment and supported local residents during difficult years. New Deal efforts also helped preserve local history. In 1936, the Works Progress Administration's Historic Marker Project prepared copies of Berkeley County wills, inventories and other courthouse records, preserving pieces of the community's past while providing work during the Depression.
Despite the hardship, Martinsburg endured. The railroad remained an important employer, local factories continued operating and working families persevered through years of uncertainty. The resilience that had carried Martinsburg through war, industrialization and earlier economic challenges once again proved essential.
As the decade progressed, signs of recovery slowly emerged. Yet even as the nation worked to overcome the Great Depression, another crisis was developing overseas. Before long, Martinsburg would once again find itself connected to events shaping the course of world history.
The Great Depression tested Martinsburg, but it also revealed the strength of its people. Through perseverance, sacrifice and a willingness to help one another, residents weathered one of the most difficult periods in American history and prepared to meet the challenges that lay ahead — including WWII.
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Photo 1: West King Street, Martinsburg, W. Va. — West Virginia History OnView / West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries.
Photo 2: East Side of Interwoven Mills at Martinsburg, W. Va., 1939 — West Virginia History OnView / West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries; Semi-Pro Blue Sox Baseball Team, Martinsburg, W. Va., 1935 — West Virginia History OnView / West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries.; Industrial street scene near mill buildings in Martinsburg.
Photo 3: Queen Street looking north from Public Square, Martinsburg, W. Va. — historic postcard, source to be confirmed.
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As the Great Depression gradually loosened its grip on the nation, another crisis was unfolding overseas. The resilience Martinsburg residents had developed during years of economic hardship would soon be called upon again.
Following the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the United States entered World War II. Like communities across America, Martinsburg and Berkeley County became part of a national effort that reached into homes, factories, rail yards and military units around the world.
The scale of Berkeley County’s World War II mobilization was extraordinary. During the first five Selective Service registrations, at least 8,480 Berkeley County men registered for the draft — a number equal to nearly 30 percent of the county’s entire 1940 population. Not all registrants were called into service, but the figure shows how deeply the war reached into Martinsburg and Berkeley County families.
Federal records also show the cost. The official Army and Army Air Forces honor list records 77 World War II casualties under Berkeley County, including 55 killed in action, 8 who died of wounds, 13 non-battle deaths and 1 finding of death. Separate Navy Department records were organized by next-of-kin address rather than by county, making Berkeley County totals harder to determine. At least three Navy casualties with Berkeley County next-of-kin addresses have been identified.
West Virginia gave heavily to the war effort. According to e-WV: The West Virginia Encyclopedia, 218,665 West Virginians served in the armed forces during World War II, including 66,716 volunteers, and 5,830 were killed. Martinsburg’s service was part of that larger state and national story.
The Baltimore & Ohio Railroad once again proved its importance. Rail lines through Martinsburg helped connect the region to the larger wartime supply network, moving people, materials and goods during one of the most demanding periods in American history.
Local industry also helped sustain the home front. Martinsburg’s textile, garment and manufacturing economy had endured the hardships of the Depression, but wartime mobilization brought renewed purpose. Workers in local factories and shops became part of the same national effort as those serving overseas.
Interwoven Mills provides one clear example. After years of Depression-era hardship and labor unrest, the company became part of wartime production by manufacturing socks for Army and Navy personnel. That work connected Martinsburg factory employees directly to the men serving overseas and showed how home-front labor became part of the national war effort.
Women were essential to the home-front workforce. Across West Virginia, as men entered military service, women stepped into industrial jobs and expanded their role in wartime work. In Martinsburg, where textile and garment factories such as Interwoven, Berkeley Woolen and Perfection Garment Company were central to the local economy, that broader wartime shift reminds us that the war effort depended not only on soldiers overseas, but also on workers at home who kept production moving.
The home front required sacrifice in daily life. Across West Virginia, families dealt with rationing of items such as tires, shoes, coffee and sugar, planted victory gardens, bought war bonds and participated in scrap drives. These efforts showed that the war was not only fought on distant battlefields. It was also supported at kitchen tables, in factory shifts, in school drives and in small acts of conservation carried out by ordinary citizens.
Military service touched countless local families. Berkeley County residents entered the armed forces, while those at home purchased war bonds, conserved resources, followed news through local newspapers and supported sons, brothers, fathers, friends and neighbors serving around the world.
Among those remembered locally is Peter William “P.W.” Atkinson, a Berkeley County pilot connected to the famed Flying Tigers and later laid to rest in Martinsburg. He was killed in a training flight in Burma in October 1941, before America had fully entered the war. His remains were identified and returned home decades later, reminding future generations that the sacrifices of war continue to touch families and communities long after the fighting ends.
His story was one of many. Pvt. Vernon C. McDaniel of Martinsburg was killed in action at Omaha Beach on D-Day, June 6, 1944, while serving with Company K, 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division. Capt. Charles Bryant Snapp of Martinsburg, an Army Air Forces pilot, died in an air crash in Germany on June 5, 1945. Their lives help show the global reach of a war that claimed young people from communities across America, including Martinsburg.
The war transformed everyday life in Martinsburg. Families adjusted to shortages and uncertainty. Workers spent long hours supporting the war effort. Residents followed the progress of American forces from Europe to the Pacific, knowing that local men and women were part of the struggle.
When victory came in 1945, Martinsburg emerged changed. Returning veterans helped shape the community’s future, and the postwar years would bring new growth, expanding services, military aviation and economic development.
The war also helped shape Martinsburg’s aviation story. Shepherd Field, which had begun as a local aviation field, would later become tied to military aviation through the West Virginia Air National Guard. In 1955, Martinsburg was approved as the new site for the 167th, extending the community’s connection to national defense into the decades after World War II.
World War II reaffirmed Martinsburg’s place in the American story. Through military service, industrial work and sacrifice at home, the city helped support a nation engaged in a global struggle for freedom.
The generation that survived the Great Depression and answered the call of war left a lasting legacy of resilience, service and determination — one that continues to inspire Martinsburg today.
#America250
Photo Credits:
Photo 1: Martinsburg gathering at mills. Courtesy of Berkeley County Historical Society.
Photo 2: Women employees at Perfection Garment Company, Martinsburg. Courtesy of Berkeley County Historical Society.
Photo 3: Lt. Peter William "P.W." Atkinson, Martinsburg native and Flying Tigers pilot. Photo courtesy of the Atkinson family / Fold3 Memorial Collection.
Photo 4: Capt. Charles Bryant Snapp of Martinsburg, U.S. Army Air Forces pilot. Photo courtesy of Find a Grave Memorial #131635357.
Photo 5: Pvt. Vernon C. McDaniel of Martinsburg, killed in action on Omaha Beach during the D-Day invasion, June 6, 1944. Photo courtesy of American War Memorials Overseas.
The generation that survived the Great Depression helped win WWII.
Their legacy of service, sacrifice and resilience continues to inspire generations today.
Long before radio waves carried voices into Martinsburg homes, communication moved at the speed of people, paper and roads. In the frontier years and early republic, news traveled by word of mouth, handwritten letters, posted notices, newspapers and travelers passing through town. Information was local, personal and often slow, but it still connected Martinsburg residents to the larger American story — until the invention of wireless communication in the late nineteenth century opened the door to the age of radio and changed the pace of communication forever.
In Martinsburg, long before there was a local station, residents gathered around radios in their homes, storefronts and neighborhoods to hear President Franklin D. Roosevelt. His fireside chats, carried across national networks, connected communities like Martinsburg directly to the White House during moments of crisis and uncertainty — which became of utmost importance during the Great Depression and World War II.
In those years, radio unified the country. News from the front, wartime updates and the voices of national leaders reached into daily life, creating a shared experience that defined a generation.
When the war ended, that connection became local - transitioning Martinsburg from the printed to the electronic age.
On October 13, 1946, WEPM went on the air in Martinsburg, becoming the first radio station in the Eastern Panhandle. Its arrival came just one year after the end of World War II, at a time when the nation was entering a new era of modern communication.
C. Leslie Golliday and his father-in-law C.M. Zinn purchased used military equipment and converted it for use at the new station.
From the beginning, WEPM was more than entertainment. Its dedication in 1946 included an opening prayer, live entertainment from local singing groups and a promise from Les Golliday that the station would be available for use by government and civic groups. One early announcement pledged “News on the Hour – Every Hour – and Music That You Will Enjoy.”
The station quickly became part of daily life in the Eastern Panhandle. It carried music, news, community programming and sports, giving local residents a new way to hear about their neighbors, their schools, their churches and their government. Over time, WEPM broadcast everything from local church services and high school sports to talk programs covering politics, community events, parks and recreation and horse racing.
It also brought notable figures through Martinsburg’s radio story. Patsy Cline performed live at WEPM with Bill Peer and the Melody Boys in the station’s early years. Other public figures who appeared through the station’s history included then-presidential candidate John F. Kennedy and his brothers Robert Kennedy and Edward Kennedy, President Jimmy Carter, U.S. Senators Robert C. Byrd and John D. Rockefeller IV, entertainer Judy Carne and even fitness personality Richard Simmons.
In that way, WEPM became part of the soundtrack of Martinsburg and the Eastern Panhandle. It connected residents to national moments, local government, community events, school sports, popular music and public conversation. It also served as a launching point for local radio personalities, many of whom continued careers in broadcasting.
Over the decades that followed, that local voice expanded. Stations like WRNR, launched in 1976, continued the tradition of community broadcasting, connecting residents through local news, sports, weather and conversation. WRNR describes itself today as a continuing local source for news, talk and sports in the Eastern Panhandle.
Martinsburg also briefly entered the television age in a more direct way.
Channel 60 signed on in 1991 as WYVN, with studios in Martinsburg and an early commitment to local news and public affairs programming. The station later became WWPX-TV and, over time, programming became tied more closely to the larger Washington, D.C. television market.
Each generation has found new ways to connect. In the eighteenth century, news traveled by word of mouth, handwritten notices and printed papers passed from person to person. In the twentieth century, radio and television carried voices and images across the country.
Today, the internet has placed the world within reach of a phone, a computer or a screen.
That story is still unfolding. Artificial intelligence, advanced computing and emerging technologies such as quantum computing are reshaping how people gather information, solve problems and understand the world around them. The tools have changed dramatically since 1776, but the purpose remains familiar: to communicate, to learn, to participate and to stay connected.
From frontier conversations and printed notices shared among neighbors to radio, television, the internet and the technologies still being developed, Martinsburg’s story reflects a larger American shift. What began as a local exchange of information has grown into a world of instant connection, linking this community not just to the nation, but to the world.
#America250
Photos:
Photo 1: Library of Congress photo titled “FDR [Franklin Delano Roosevelt] FIRESIDE CHAT,” Harris & Ewing Collection, Prints and Photographs Division, LC-DIG-hec-47251. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Photo 2: Patsy Cline performing with Bill Peer and the Melody Boys at WEPM radio, Martinsburg. Courtesy of WEPM archives / Panhandle News Network.
WV MetroNews states that Patsy Cline performed live with Bill Peer and the Melody Boys at WEPM in its early years and that a photo of the group performing with the WEPM banner hangs in the on-air news studio.
Photo 3: Youth radio program at WEPM, Martinsburg. Courtesy of WEPM archives / Panhandle News Network.
Photo 4: WEPM reception confirmation letter, May 17, 1949, signed by C. Leslie Golliday, General Manager. Courtesy of the National Radio Club Verification Collection / Internet Archive.
The Internet Archive record transcribes the WEPM Martinsburg Broadcasting Company confirmation letter dated May 17, 1949, signed by C. Leslie Golliday, General Manager, and carrying the station line “Radio Voice Of West Virginia’s Eastern Panhandle.”
Photo 5: Leslie Golliday, Martinsburg, W. Va. West Virginia History OnView / West Virginia & Regional History Center, WVU Libraries.
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Following the hardships of the Great Depression and the shared purpose of World War II, Martinsburg—like much of the nation—entered a period of recovery, transition and growth. Veterans returned home, families expanded and a new era of opportunity began to reshape the community.
The 1950s and 1960s marked a significant shift in how Martinsburg developed. Growth began moving beyond the historic downtown core as new neighborhoods formed around the city. Residential areas expanded into what had once been open land, reflecting a national trend toward homeownership, automobile travel and suburban-style living.
The rise of the American middle class helped drive this transformation. Families sought stability, opportunity and a place to call their own. Modest single-family homes became increasingly common, shaping many of the neighborhoods that continue to define Martinsburg today.
Transportation once again played a defining role in Martinsburg’s identity and history.
Just as the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad had transformed Martinsburg in the nineteenth century, modern highways reshaped the city in the twentieth. The West Virginia section of Interstate 81 began moving forward at the end of the 1950s, with the first construction solicitations published in 1959. The first six miles opened in 1963 and the full West Virginia segment was completed in 1966. Running along the western side of Martinsburg, I-81 improved regional connections and helped redirect growth beyond the traditional city center.
In many ways, the extension of I-81 into the Eastern Panhandle was to the twentieth century what the arrival of the B&O Railroad had been to the nineteenth. The railroad tied Martinsburg to the movement of people, goods and industry by rail. I-81 tied Martinsburg to the highway economy of modern America.
The railroad had drawn growth toward tracks, depots, rail shops and downtown commerce. I-81 helped pull later growth toward exits, corridors, business parks and larger parcels of land suited for automobiles, trucks, warehouses, manufacturing and distribution. It changed not only how people traveled, but how businesses thought about Martinsburg’s location.
That shift helped set the stage for the regional economy that continues to shape Martinsburg and Berkeley County today.
Modern economic development increasingly depends on access: access to highways, airports, rail, labor, suppliers and major markets. Because of its location, Martinsburg became well positioned for manufacturing, logistics, distribution, defense-related activity, healthcare and regional commerce.
Today, that highway-era transformation can be seen in the manufacturing and distribution activity along and near the I-81 corridor. Major employers and industrial sites in the region reflect how Martinsburg’s location continues to connect the community to Washington, D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, New York and other major markets.
General Motors was among the early major employers that showed how I-81 could reshape Martinsburg’s economy. Its parts distribution presence along the corridor dated back decades and helped demonstrate Martinsburg’s value as a logistics location.
With increased mobility came new patterns of daily life. Downtown Martinsburg remained the heart of the city, but the community’s identity increasingly extended beyond the historic core. Local businesses, restaurants, bowling alleys, drug stores, service stations and retail shops reflected a growing consumer economy and a generation enjoying new levels of prosperity.
The postwar baby boom also increased demand for schools, churches, recreation and community facilities. As families grew, so did the need for places where children could learn, residents could gather and community life could continue beyond the traditional downtown center.
War Memorial Park became one of the most important local examples of that postwar story.
In the years after World War II, local citizens helped create a place that would serve two purposes at once: remembrance and recreation. The War Memorial Park Association was established in 1947 and became the original developer and operator of the park. For approximately four decades, the park was carried forward by volunteers who helped build, operate and maintain a place where families could gather, children could swim and play and the community could remember those who served.
That history matters because War Memorial Park was never simply open space. It was built by community effort, sustained by local commitment and rooted in the belief that remembrance and everyday life belong together.
Since 1948, the War Memorial Park Association’s annual Labor Day Breakfast has also helped raise funds and bring generations of residents together in support of the park. That tradition reflects the same spirit that helped create the park in the first place: neighbors investing in a place that belongs to the whole community.
The park’s story of remembrance also connects to an earlier memorial tradition in Martinsburg. In the years after World War I, local residents worked to create a lasting tribute to Berkeley County residents who served in what was then called the Great War. Women of the American Legion Auxiliary, Berkeley Post 14, helped form the Berkeley County Memorial Association and raised funds for the World War I Doughboy Monument.
Dedicated in 1925, the Doughboy Monument stood for decades near the federal building on West King Street. Its plaques honored Berkeley County residents who served in World War I, including those who gave their lives, nurses who served and African American soldiers whose service was also recorded on the monument.
Nearly a century later, as the former federal property changed, the Doughboy Monument was moved, restored and returned to public view at War Memorial Park. That relocation connected two chapters of local remembrance: the World War I memorial created in 1925 and the post-World War II park created for memory, recreation and community life.
As Martinsburg and Berkeley County continued to grow, recreation also became more organized. In 1970, the Martinsburg-Berkeley County Parks and Recreation Board was formally established, creating a lasting city-county partnership for public recreation. In 1987, after decades of volunteer operation, the War Memorial Park Association transferred maintenance and operation responsibilities to the City of Martinsburg. The Association continued its commitment as a Friends of the Park organization focused on fundraising and improvements.
Today, War Memorial Park remains one of Martinsburg’s most important public spaces. Its pool, picnic areas, recreation spaces, memorials and community events have helped make it one of the gathering places that defined life beyond downtown.
The Newton D. Baker Veterans Hospital remained central to Martinsburg’s postwar identity. The facility opened in 1944 as the Newton D. Baker Army General Hospital and became part of the Veterans Administration system in 1946. By the 1950s and 1960s, it had become an established regional center for veterans’ healthcare, employment and public service, helping make Martinsburg a place of healing, recovery and support for veterans and their families.
Military service also remained an important part of the community’s identity. The 167th unit of the West Virginia Air National Guard moved to Martinsburg in late 1955, reflecting the growing importance of air power during the Cold War. In 1961, the Martinsburg unit shifted from fighter aircraft to an aeromedical transport mission and by 1963 it was operating larger transport aircraft. The unit later flew supply missions to Vietnam, connecting Martinsburg’s airfield to one of the defining conflicts of the twentieth century.
The same decades that brought outward growth also marked a broader economic transition. Railroads and manufacturing remained important, but healthcare, government services, military activity, highway commerce, parks, recreation and regional distribution became increasingly significant parts of Martinsburg’s economy. The city’s role as a regional center for employment, healthcare, transportation, recreation and public service continued to expand.
The changes taking place in Martinsburg mirrored transformations occurring across America. Communities were adjusting to automobiles, highways, new housing patterns, Cold War defense needs, changing jobs and the expectations of a growing middle class.
Yet Martinsburg remained rooted in the same qualities that had carried it through war, economic hardship and industrial change: resilience, adaptability and a strong sense of community.
By the second half of the twentieth century, Martinsburg had evolved from a railroad and manufacturing center into a growing regional hub. The city was no longer defined only by its downtown, its rail yards or its industrial past. It was becoming a broader community—connected by roads, strengthened by institutions and shaped by neighborhoods, employers, parks and corridors that stretched beyond the city’s historic core.
The B&O Railroad helped build nineteenth-century Martinsburg. Interstate 81 helped shape the modern Martinsburg that followed.
War Memorial Park and the parks system remind us that growth is not only measured in roads, buildings and jobs. It is also measured in the places where people gather, children play, families celebrate and communities remember.
Together, these stories tell a larger American story: communities grow when they are connected—to people, to markets, to opportunity, to memory and to the nation itself.
#America250
Photo Credits
Interstate 81 construction, Martinsburg area
Interstate 81, Berkeley County
War Memorial Park
Peoples Drug Store, Downtown Martinsburg
Bowling Palace, Downtown Martinsburg
Downtown Martinsburg business district historical photographs
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Not every contribution to America’s story is written in Washington or on the battlefield.
Some are built in classrooms, laboratories, libraries, band rooms, theaters, gymnasiums and under Friday night lights.
From the beginning, the American experiment depended on more than independence. It depended on citizens prepared to learn, reason, participate and carry the responsibilities of self-government.
George Washington understood that connection. In his Farewell Address, he urged Americans to “promote… institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge,” explaining that where public opinion influences government, “it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened.”
Thomas Jefferson made the point even more directly. Writing about the importance of spreading knowledge among the people, Jefferson called it the surest foundation for “the preservation of freedom, and happiness.”
That founding belief — that education supports liberty, citizenship and community life — became embedded in America’s story.
And in Martinsburg, that story has been on display for generations through Martinsburg High School — a place where education, achievement, service, creativity and athletic excellence have helped shape the life of the community.
Public education has deep roots in Martinsburg. The city’s public schools were organized after the Civil War in 1865 and were in full operation by 1866. In 1875, Martinsburg became an independent school district by act of the Legislature, reflecting the community’s growing commitment to public education and civic life.
Martinsburg High School’s own story reaches back to the nineteenth century. Early high school classes were held in a frame building near Queen and Stephen Streets before work began in 1883 on the historic South Queen Street school building. That building, now associated with the Berkeley County Board of Education, remains a visible reminder of the importance earlier generations placed on public education.
As Martinsburg grew, so did its schools. A 1908 bond issue helped enlarge the high school with an assembly hall, additional classrooms, laboratories and other facilities, with work completed in 1910. Martinsburg High School later relocated to its current South Queen Street campus, continuing to evolve as the community and its educational needs changed.
That evolution reflects a larger American pattern.
Across the country, communities built schools not only to teach reading, writing and mathematics, but to prepare young people for citizenship, work, leadership and service. Schools became places where communities passed forward knowledge, values, opportunity and identity.
That has certainly been true in Martinsburg.
For generations, Martinsburg High School has helped shape students through academics, music, theater, band, visual arts, career training, service, leadership and athletics. Its motto — “Enter to Learn - Go Forth to Serve” — reflects a purpose larger than any single classroom, stage or playing field.
Academically, Martinsburg High School’s tradition has also extended beyond the classroom. Generations of students have earned honors, scholarships and recognition through academic programs, advanced coursework, language achievement, science organizations and service activities. These accomplishments may not always draw the same public attention as championship games, but they reflect the same commitment to preparation, discipline and excellence.
Those achievements matter because a school’s legacy is not measured only in trophies.
It is measured in graduates who become teachers, nurses, doctors, tradespeople, engineers, artists, business owners, military service members, public servants, parents, volunteers and community leaders.
It is measured in the young people who leave school prepared to contribute to something larger than themselves.
That is where Martinsburg High School’s story connects so clearly to America’s story.
The same discipline, preparation and teamwork that build strong students can also be seen in the school’s athletic tradition.
On fall nights, the Bulldog football program has become one of the most successful in West Virginia history. Martinsburg has captured 11 state football championships, building a modern dynasty defined by sustained excellence, discipline and statewide recognition.
On the hardwood, Martinsburg boys basketball has built a proud championship tradition, winning state titles in 1994, 2009 and 2013.
On the diamond, Bulldog baseball has added to that athletic legacy with state championships in 1983, 1989, 1996 and 2009.
Martinsburg has also helped grow lacrosse in West Virginia. After an early program in the 1970s, the modern Martinsburg boys’ team returned in 2021 and won WVSLA Division II championships in 2021 and 2023, while the girls’ team won the WVSLA Division II title in 2023.
High school academics, athletics and the arts all reflect something deeply American — teamwork, creativity, perseverance and the belief that success is built through effort and shared commitment.
Across the country, communities come together around their schools. Classroom achievements, band performances, theater productions, academic honors, graduation ceremonies, rivalry games and championship moments become shared experiences that shape identity and pride.
For more than a century, Martinsburg High School has helped shape not only successful students, athletes, scholars, musicians, artists and performers, but also citizens, leaders and community members.
As America prepares to mark 250 years of independence, Martinsburg High School reminds us that the promise of the nation is renewed in every generation.
#America250
Photos: Martinsburg High School / WV MetroNews
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Even in its most difficult moments, Martinsburg’s story has been defined not just by what was lost, but by how the community responded.
Few places tell that story more powerfully than the Martinsburg Roundhouse.
The Roundhouse complex is one of Martinsburg’s most important links to the railroad age. The B&O Railroad reached Martinsburg in 1842, and by the late 1840s the railroad had built shops and a roundhouse here. Those first structures were destroyed during the Civil War, when the railroad became a strategic target. After the war, the B&O rebuilt. The present West Roundhouse and shops were constructed beginning in 1866, and the East Roundhouse was added in 1872.
Today, the complex is recognized as a National Historic Landmark because of its architecture and its connection to major events in American history, including the Civil War and the Great Railroad Strike of 1877.
The site became more than a workplace. It became part of Martinsburg’s identity.
For generations, the Roundhouse represented labor, engineering, transportation and connection to a growing nation. It also placed Martinsburg at the center of national history.
At its height, the B&O shops employed hundreds of skilled workers — machinists, boilermakers, blacksmiths, carpenters and others whose work kept locomotives, railcars and equipment moving. Those jobs supported families, neighborhoods, local businesses, churches, schools and downtown commerce. The Roundhouse was not simply a railroad facility. It was one of Martinsburg’s great industrial anchors.
In 1877, workers at the B&O shops in Martinsburg helped spark the Great Railroad Strike, one of the first major nationwide labor uprisings in American history.
For more than a century after the Civil War, railroad work continued at the site. But by the late twentieth century, that era was coming to an end. Local railroad shop operations ended in 1988, with one source identifying March 14, 1988, as the date the Martinsburg shops ceased local operations and work was transferred elsewhere.
For a community whose economy and identity had long been tied to the railroad, the closure marked the end of a working era. The loss was not only about buildings or machinery. It was about generations of skill, family stability, local pride and daily routines connected to the railroad.
Then, only two years later, the Roundhouse faced another defining test — and the community suffered another painful blow. On May 14, 1990, the East Roundhouse was severely damaged by a devastating fire later determined to be arson. Much of the structure was lost, leaving a powerful symbol of Martinsburg’s railroad heritage scarred and uncertain.
For a community whose identity had long been tied to the railroad, the loss was more than physical. The Roundhouse represented generations of workers, innovation and connection. Its future mattered not only because of what it had been, but because of what it could still become.
In the aftermath, Martinsburg faced a familiar question — whether to let loss define the future, or to rebuild.
The answer came through the dedication of those who refused to let this piece of history disappear. Local leaders, preservation advocates and community members worked to protect what remained and chart a path forward. In 1999, the West Virginia Legislature authorized the Berkeley County Roundhouse Authority as a public corporation to help acquire, preserve, improve, maintain and operate the historic B&O Roundhouse property.
That public commitment mattered. Efforts by the Roundhouse Authority and others helped secure the site, preserve its historic structures and guide its transition into a community asset for future generations.
Today, the surviving West Roundhouse is recognized as the sole surviving cast-iron framed roundhouse in the world, a remarkable piece of nineteenth-century engineering still standing in Martinsburg.
Over time, the complex was stabilized, restored and reimagined — transforming from an industrial railroad site into a place where history, events and community life come together. Today, the Martinsburg Roundhouse stands not only as a reminder of its past, but as a symbol of what can be achieved through persistence and shared purpose.
The story of the Roundhouse is still being written and has yet reached its conclusion. The vision for the site extends beyond preservation alone. Its future includes community engagement, culture, history education, the arts, events, small business opportunities and public gathering. In that way, the Roundhouse continues doing what it has always done: connecting Martinsburg to something larger.
Once, it connected the city to the nation by rail.
Today, it connects new generations to the people, labor, engineering and resilience that helped shape this community.
Fire tested the structure.
The community preserved it.
And in doing so, Martinsburg continued a pattern seen throughout its history — meeting challenges with determination, honoring its past and moving forward with purpose.
#America250
Photos: Martinsburg Roundhouse Fire, May 14, 1990. Courtesy of Westphal Hose Company No. 5 archives
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By the late twentieth century, Martinsburg—like many American communities—was in the midst of major transition. But the deeper story of this era was adaptation.
For more than two centuries, Martinsburg had adapted to change. It had grown from a frontier town into a railroad center, rebuilt after war, adjusted to industrial growth and become a hub for manufacturing, commerce and transportation.
By the 1980s and 1990s, the city faced a new kind of challenge.
Industries that had long supported the local economy and helped shape the city’s identity, including textile mills, manufacturing operations and railroad employment, had declined sharply or disappeared. For generations, these industries had provided steady jobs, economic opportunity and a shared sense of community.
As they faded, Martinsburg faced a familiar American question: how does a community built for one era find its place in another?
Perhaps no change symbolized this transition more than the end of railroad operations at the historic Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Shops and Roundhouse complex in 1988. Since the mid-nineteenth century, the railroad had been central to Martinsburg’s economic life. The shops had survived the Civil War, played a role in the Great Railroad Strike of 1877 and employed generations of local families. Their closure marked the end of an era for a community that had grown alongside the railroad for more than a century.
The impact was more than symbolic. For generations, the Roundhouse and shops had been one of Martinsburg’s defining economic anchors. The complex operated until 1988 and had long been described as an immense economic contributor to Martinsburg, the surrounding counties and West Virginia. Martinsburg was not simply a stop on the railroad. Beginning in the nineteenth century, the B&O made the city an important maintenance and repair center between Baltimore and Cumberland, helping support generations of skilled industrial work.
A job connected to the shops was more than a paycheck. It represented stability, skill, identity and pride. Railroad work supported machinists, mechanics, blacksmiths, carpenters, laborers, clerks and many others whose work kept trains, equipment and materials moving. Those paychecks circulated through the community. They supported homes, churches, schools, neighborhood businesses and downtown commerce. The shops helped shape the rhythm of daily life in Martinsburg, from work schedules and rail traffic to family stories passed from one generation to the next.
When operations ended, Martinsburg lost more than active railroad buildings. It lost a working industrial center that had helped define the city’s economy and identity for generations. The closure affected families, related businesses, skilled trades and the daily life of a railroad town. Buildings that had once been filled with workers, movement and machinery became quiet. The closure marked the end of a way of life as much as the end of a workplace.
Even then, the railroad did not disappear from Martinsburg’s story. In 1997, the Caperton Transportation Center was completed beside the historic station/hotel, continuing Martinsburg’s connection to passenger rail through Amtrak and MARC service. The old railroad economy had changed, but the rail corridor still connected Martinsburg to the wider region.
Across the city, adaptation took many forms. First attempts were slow and did not always pan out. Many places remained vacant for years before redevelopment gained momentum. The Interwoven Mills complex, once one of Martinsburg’s largest employers, reflected both the promise and difficulty of economic change as it largely sat vacant for decades. Only recently, projects involving Interwoven and the former National Fruit property have shown how Martinsburg continues to connect its industrial heritage with new economic opportunities — but it wasn’t overnight.
The changing economy also transformed how people shopped and gathered — and this was well before online shopping. This was not just a Martinsburg trend. It was an American trend. Across the country, downtown shopping districts faced competition from outlet centers, enclosed malls and suburban retail development near highways.
The Blue Ridge Outlet Center opened in former textile mill buildings in 1984, turning older industrial space into a regional retail destination. For many people, this was a lively and memorable period. The outlet center brought shoppers into Martinsburg, reused historic industrial buildings and showed how older places could serve new purposes. Around 2000, many of the outlets closed as competition from other discount malls increased. Again, this seemed like another major setback, but the buildings would later take on new life through public and institutional reuse.
The Foxcroft Avenue retail area reflected another national trend: the rise of suburban-style shopping centers near major transportation corridors. The Martinsburg Mall was completed in 1991 and opened in 1992, becoming a regional shopping destination and gathering place. Walmart’s expansion to a Supercenter in 1998 further reflected the changing retail patterns of that decade.
For many residents, the mall and surrounding stores were not signs of decline. They were signs of a growing community adapting to a new era of shopping and development. The mall’s later decline and redevelopment into Foxcroft Towne Center in the 2010s would show that the process of adaptation did not end with the 1990s. Like so many communities across America, Martinsburg saw retail move, change and eventually be reimagined again.
Downtown was also beginning to organize for a new era. Main Street Martinsburg was established in 1992, shortly after the opening of the Martinsburg Mall, as part of a broader effort to support and revitalize the historic downtown commercial district. That effort reflected an important idea: even as shopping patterns changed, downtown Martinsburg still mattered as a civic, cultural and economic center. It still does today.
Transportation also shaped this chapter. By the 1980s and 1990s, Edwin Miller Boulevard had become one of Martinsburg’s important highway-era commercial corridors, connecting I-81 with Route 9, U.S. 11 and the northern side of the city.
Edwin Miller Boulevard was more than just another commercial road. When the planned road was named in 1970 for Edwin W. Miller—a former Martinsburg mayor, Martinsburg High School educator and principal, World War I veteran and Berkeley County sheriff—newspaper accounts described it as part of a planned Martinsburg Beltway that would run north around the east side of the city toward Route 9 and Charles Town Road.
The larger beltway vision was never fully realized in that form. But by the 1980s and 1990s, Edwin Miller Boulevard reflected how the city’s growth was increasingly shaped by I-81 access, automobile travel and commercial development beyond the historic downtown core.
Regional planning was not new to the Eastern Panhandle. The Eastern Panhandle Regional Planning and Development Council, known as Region 9, had been organized in 1972, giving Berkeley, Jefferson and Morgan counties a formal structure for regional planning, grant administration and cooperation among local governments. That regional approach was strengthened in 1996, when the Hagerstown/Eastern Panhandle Metropolitan Planning Organization was organized as an expansion of the Hagerstown Area MPO, further connecting Martinsburg and Berkeley County to a broader multi-state transportation planning framework. Together, Region 9 and HEPMPO reflected an important reality of the late twentieth century: Martinsburg’s future was increasingly tied not only to local decisions, but to regional growth, transportation planning and cooperation across county and state lines.
The scale of change can also be seen in the numbers. While Martinsburg was adjusting to the loss of older industrial anchors, Berkeley County was growing rapidly around it. The county’s population rose from 46,775 in 1980 to 59,839 in 1990 and 76,396 in 2000. That growth placed new pressure on roads, services, housing, retail and local government, while also strengthening Martinsburg’s role as the center of a growing Eastern Panhandle region. The region’s growth was becoming harder for the rest of West Virginia to ignore.
At the same time, Martinsburg’s industrial story was not ending. It was evolving. While traditional textile and manufacturing employers declined, new industries began locating throughout Berkeley County. Manufacturing, distribution, logistics, healthcare, government services, education and regional commerce became part of a broader and more resilient economy.
The 1990s brought signs of that changing employment base. In 1997, Quad/Graphics opened its Martinsburg facility, representing the kind of large-scale modern industrial investment that was beginning to reshape the local economy. It did not replace the railroad shops or textile mills in the same way, but it showed that Martinsburg and Berkeley County could still attract major employers in a new economic era. This set the stage for later projects like Macy’s, Proctor & Gamble and other major manufacturers, distribution and logistics companies.
Interstate 81 played a central role in that shift. Just as the B&O Railroad connected Martinsburg to national markets in the nineteenth century, I-81 connected the Eastern Panhandle to a new era of commerce, distribution and economic development.
City government also adapted to changing needs. The current Martinsburg City Hall on North Queen Street was originally constructed in 1986, giving the city a modern municipal center during this same era of transition. Like the restored rail station, the reused mill buildings and the evolving downtown, City Hall reflected a practical reality: communities must modernize how they serve people while remaining rooted in place.
Community identity remained important, too. In 1990, the Big Apple Time Capsule was dedicated on West King Street, preserving messages for the future and celebrating Martinsburg’s connection to the apple heritage of the Shenandoah Valley. It was a small but visible reminder that even during years of transition, the community was still thinking about memory, identity and the generations that would come next.
At times, the challenges were real. Industries closed, jobs were lost, businesses struggled and buildings sat vacant. Familiar patterns of work, shopping and daily life shifted. Yet Martinsburg responded in the same way it had throughout its history — through resilience, adaptation and a willingness to embrace change.
By the mid 1990s, it was becoming clear that Martinsburg would survive the loss of many of its older industrial anchors, though not without difficulty. The railroad shops, textile mills and older manufacturing base had shaped generations of work and identity, and their decline left real economic and emotional consequences. But the city was not disappearing. It was changing. New retail patterns, regional transportation planning, countywide growth, modern employers, preservation efforts, public services and downtown revitalization all pointed toward a community finding its way through disruption rather than being defined only by loss.
The 1990s also stood on the edge of another transformation. Personal computers were becoming more common, and the World Wide Web was beginning to move from research and technical circles into public life. The internet had earlier roots, but during the 1990s the Web, email and digital communication began changing how people learned, shopped, worked and accessed information. Few people at the time could have fully imagined how deeply digital technology would eventually touch nearly every part of daily life — business, government, education, healthcare, communication and even how communities tell their own stories.
Martinsburg’s transition was therefore not only from railroads, mills and older industries to highways, retail and regional growth. It was also a transition toward the digital age that would reshape the decades after 2000.
The 1980s and 1990s were years of transition, but also years of redefinition. Martinsburg was absorbing loss, responding to growth, modernizing services, starting to preserve historic assets and adjusting to new patterns of work, shopping, transportation and technology.
Martinsburg was beginning to evolve into the healthcare, governmental, commercial and transportation hub of West Virginia’s Eastern Panhandle.
That story of adaptation is part of America’s story. Progress is not always easy, and the future is never guaranteed. Yet generation after generation, Americans have met change by adapting, innovating and building upon the foundations left by those who came before.
#America250
Photos:
Aerial view of the B&O Roundhouse complex and Caperton Transportation Center, connecting Martinsburg’s railroad past with preservation, transportation and renewal.
Martinsburg Mall, reflecting the rise of suburban-style shopping centers near major highway corridors.
Blue Ridge Outlet Center advertisement, showing the adaptive reuse of former textile mill buildings for outlet retail.
IRS Computer Center, Martinsburg, 1977, Library of Congress
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Modern history is often the hardest history to write. It is close enough that many of us remember it personally, but recent enough that its full meaning is still taking shape.
The years from 2000 to today changed Martinsburg quickly and profoundly, reminding us that history is not only something behind us. Sometimes, it is the ground moving beneath our feet.
While 2000 may seem like yesterday to some of us, it was more than a quarter century ago, and much has transpired and transformed.
“We live in a moment of history where change is so speeded up that we begin to see the present only when it is already disappearing.” — R. D. Laing, The Politics of Experience
As Martinsburg moved into the twenty-first century, the city entered a new chapter — one marked by growth, disruption, adaptation and quick change.
The year 2000 arrived with national attention focused on Y2K and the growing realization that computers, digital systems and unseen technology had become essential to everyday life. A year later, the attacks of September 11, 2001 changed America’s sense of security, public service and national responsibility. The wars and military commitments that followed touched communities across the country, including families here in Martinsburg and Berkeley County.
Then came changes that reshaped daily life: the internet, smartphones, social media, online commerce, remote work and electronic communication. In a single generation, communities moved from landlines, paper records and in-person counters to online payments, digital records, mobile alerts, cloud systems, broadband and real-time communication.
For most of Martinsburg’s history, information moved by foot, horse, wagon, rail, newspaper, letter, telephone, radio and word of mouth. Today, a device small enough to fit in a pocket can carry maps, photographs, banking, emergency alerts, news, public notices, meeting information, social media, email and access to government services.
In some ways, the pace of change recalls earlier periods of industrial transformation, when railroads, electricity, automobiles and airplanes changed how Americans lived, worked, traveled and understood distance. The tools are different, but the pattern is familiar: new technology changes daily life, raises new expectations and forces communities to adapt.
Martinsburg faced those changes alongside major national tests. The Great Recession affected housing, construction, employment and local confidence. In January 2016, a winter storm brought one of the most memorable snow events in modern local history, with Martinsburg described as being near the “bullseye” of the storm and reports of more than 30 inches of snow. The COVID-19 pandemic then reminded the nation again that communities must be able to adapt quickly.
Despite the Great Recession and other national disruptions, Martinsburg has grown by about 28 percent, while Berkeley County has grown by about 83 percent in the twenty-first century.
In 2020, 100 years after the 19th Amendment guaranteed women the right to vote and more than two centuries after Martinsburg’s founding, voters elected the city’s first female mayor. Her passing while in office brought that historic term to an early end.
Across America, the years since 2000 have tested whether older communities could adjust to new expectations. Residents needed reliable infrastructure. Businesses needed places to invest. Families needed recreation and housing. Public safety required modern facilities and continuous service. Downtowns needed renewed purpose. Local governments had to become more transparent, responsive, technologically capable and financially disciplined.
Martinsburg faced those same challenges and worked to address them head-on.
The story of this era has not been defined by one project, one building or one decision. It has been shaped by steady investments over time — in streets, utilities, parks, public safety, neighborhoods, downtown buildings, commercial corridors, technology and the public spaces that make a city work.
Improved transportation remained part of that story. The Raleigh Street Extension helped create new opportunities for movement, development and connection within the city. Like the railroads of an earlier century and Interstate 81 in the modern era, improved roads and corridors helped shape where growth could occur and how people moved through Martinsburg.
New neighborhoods and housing growth also became part of Martinsburg’s modern story. Growth on the west side of I-81 became part of the city’s modern development pattern. Growth brought opportunity, but it also required planning, infrastructure and public services capable of keeping pace. It also brought important debate about what sustainable growth should look like.
The city invested in infrastructure people do not always see, but rely on every day. Major water and sewer system projects, stormwater improvements, streets, public facilities, digital systems and modernized operations became essential parts of preparing Martinsburg for continued growth.
That work may not be as visible as a new building, a renovated park or a paved street, but it matters. Digital systems and communication tools have become a vital part of the infrastructure of a modern city, helping government serve people more efficiently, securely and reliably.
Just as important has been the daily, continuous work of local government: police officers on patrol, firefighters and EMS personnel ready to respond, water and sewer systems operating around the clock and public employees doing the quiet, dependable work that allows people to live, work and invest here with confidence.
Progress requires more than vision. It requires financial discipline to maintain essential services, plan for long-term needs, invest carefully and avoid commitments that cannot be sustained.
The new century also continued national debates over civil rights, immigration, LGBTQ+ rights, democratic institutions and the proper role of government. Martinsburg has been part of those larger American conversations, including difficult moments that tested community trust and raised hard questions about policing, accountability and the role of law enforcement. Among those moments was the 2013 death of Wayne Jones, a painful chapter in the city’s modern history and part of the continuing conversation about public safety, accountability and public trust.
The opioid and substance-use crisis also became part of Martinsburg’s modern story. Across America, communities were forced to recognize that addiction, trauma, mental health and public safety could not be treated as separate issues. Martinsburg’s response included partnerships through The Martinsburg Initiative and more recent outreach connected to fire and EMS response, recognizing that some emergencies require not only public safety, but also connection to treatment, housing, recovery and support services.
Martinsburg also placed emphasis on recreation and quality of life. Continued investment in parks, pools, courts, open spaces, trails and greenways helped expand opportunities for youth sports, family activities, recreation and community gathering. Parks are not extras. They are part of the civic infrastructure that supports health, connection, neighborhood pride and quality of life.
Downtown also became part of Martinsburg’s new chapter. Older buildings that once faced uncertain futures began finding new life. The restoration of the Shenandoah Hotel showed that historic downtown structures could be brought back into productive use and set the stage for widespread downtown redevelopment. The Interwoven redevelopment took a place tied to Martinsburg’s industrial past and reimagined it for housing, investment and renewed activity after decades of vacancy.
The railroad still shapes Martinsburg’s identity, and freight and commuter rail still tie Martinsburg to the nation. The Roundhouse remains one of its great historic landmarks. The former National Fruit property reflects how older industrial and commercial sites can become part of new economic plans. The Adam Stephen House continues to connect the city to its founding generation.
These places are not separate from Martinsburg’s modern story. They are part of the foundation on which the modern story is being built.
New commercial activity also helped reshape the city. Retail, restaurants, fitness centers, hotels, professional offices, healthcare investment, manufacturing, logistics and other businesses reflected growing confidence in Martinsburg’s market. Together, these investments reinforced Martinsburg’s role as the commercial and service hub of the Eastern Panhandle.
During this same period, Martinsburg and Berkeley County emerged as one of West Virginia’s most important growth corridors. Berkeley County became one of the fastest-growing counties in the state, while Martinsburg continued to serve as the county seat, commercial center and regional service hub.
The story of Martinsburg since 2000 is not only a story of development.
It is a story of capacity.
The city has worked to build the capacity to serve more residents, support more businesses, protect more neighborhoods, welcome more investment and create a stronger foundation for the future.
That work is not finished. Aging infrastructure still requires attention. Growth continues to create new demands. Public safety, housing, transportation, parks, utilities and technology all require long-term planning. Financial resources are not unlimited and practical choices must be made. But Martinsburg has shown that progress is built through steady investment, responsible planning and a willingness to keep working.
This era reflects a different kind of American story. It is not the story of founding a town, building a railroad or opening a great factory. It is the story of what communities do next.
They repair.
They rebuild.
They modernize.
They preserve.
They adapt.
And this modern chapter, like every chapter before it, has happened because of people. City employees, elected officials, business owners who decided to take a risk, builders, volunteers, nonprofit leaders, educators, first responders, neighbors and residents have all shaped this era.
Roads, buildings, parks and technology matter, but they become part of a community’s story only because people choose to use them, improve them and keep working.
Martinsburg’s recent story is part of the broader American experience. Since 2000, communities across the country have faced terrorism, war, economic uncertainty, rapid technological change, a shift from brick-and-mortar commerce to online shopping, a pandemic, public health crises and new expectations for how government should serve the public. They have had to decide whether to defer difficult work or invest in the future, whether to let older buildings decline or bring them back to life, whether to accept change passively or shape it with purpose.
That debate over change, responsibility and the role of government is not new. In 1776, Americans were not only debating independence. They were debating what government should be, whom it should serve and how much authority it should have. Disagreement has been part of the American story from the beginning. The challenge has always been whether Americans can continue debating, adapting and working toward something better.
The next frontier is already arriving.
Artificial intelligence, advanced computing and emerging technologies such as quantum computing now point toward another period of change, raising new questions about work, security, communication, privacy, education and public service. Just as Y2K reminded America that technology could no longer be treated as separate from daily life, the technologies now emerging remind us that adaptation is not a one-time event. It is part of the responsibility of every generation.
As Martinsburg looks toward its own 250th anniversary in 2028, the investments made since 2000 — in financial stability, public service, public safety, infrastructure, paving, parks, neighborhoods, downtown, technology, commercial growth and civic life — are helping shape the Martinsburg of tomorrow.
The future cannot be predicted with certainty. No generation knew exactly what would come next. But while the future cannot be predicted, communities can prepare for it.
And as much as the next chapter may involve buildings, roads, trails, parks, hospitals, businesses and public facilities, Martinsburg’s future has never really been about projects alone. It has always been about people.
Projects matter because people matter. Infrastructure matters because it serves people. A city’s future is ultimately measured not only by what it builds, but by whether those investments help people live safer, healthier, fuller and more connected lives.
America’s story has always been written by communities willing to adapt, improve and carry forward what matters most.
Here in Martinsburg, that work continues — as it began in 1778, as it continued through generations of change and as it will continue into the future.
#America250
Photos: City archives, Main Street Martinsburg, Martinsburg-Berkeley County Chamber of Commerce, Berkeley County Schools.
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Happy 250th Birthday, America!
For nearly 250 years, Martinsburg’s story has been part of America’s story.
From its earliest days on the frontier to the community we know today, Martinsburg has stood at the crossroads of American history. What began as a small settlement grew with the nation — shaped by roads and railroads, war and peace, industry and labor, hardship and hope, loss and renewal.
This city has never been separate from the larger American journey. Martinsburg has been part of it.
Martinsburg grew as America grew. Its railroads connected people, goods and ideas across a growing country. Its workers helped power American industry. Its families endured the Civil War, the Great Depression and the sacrifices of world wars. Its schools, churches, businesses, neighborhoods and civic institutions helped shape ordinary lives in extraordinary times.
The American story did not happen only in capitals, battlefields or famous places.
It happened here too.
It happened in rail yards and factories.
It happened in classrooms and churches.
It happened on downtown streets, in family homes, in public parks and in the daily work of people trying to build a better life.
It happened through those who served, those who labored, those who taught, those who worshiped, those who rebuilt and those who kept going when times were difficult.
Through every generation, Martinsburg has changed.
The railroad era gave way to highways and commuter connections. Older industries declined, but new opportunities emerged. Historic buildings that once served one purpose began finding new life. Downtown streets remained part of the community’s heart. Former industrial sites began to be reused. Healthcare, manufacturing, transportation, housing, parks, trails and public spaces are now helping shape the next chapter.
That is part of what makes Martinsburg’s story so American.
America has always been a work in progress. So has Martinsburg.
Progress has never moved in a perfectly straight line. American history has often advanced through argument, setback, sacrifice, correction and renewed effort. Martinsburg’s story reflects that same pattern — a community shaped not by perfection, but by the willingness of each generation to keep working toward something better.
Our story includes growth, but also struggle. It includes conflict, but also courage. It includes loss, but also resilience. It includes change, but also a deep and lasting sense of place.
More than two centuries ago, John Adams imagined that American independence would be celebrated “with pomp and parade… guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other.”
Tonight, as fireworks light the sky over Martinsburg and across our nation, that vision comes to life — not only in the lights above us, but in the community gathered beneath them.
Years after independence was declared, Benjamin Franklin was asked what kind of government had been created. His reported reply still speaks across the generations:
“A republic, if you can keep it.”
Franklin’s words remind us that self-government is never guaranteed. It depends on citizens who remain engaged, communities willing to work together and each generation choosing to preserve what it has inherited.
Together, Adams and Franklin remind us that America is both a celebration and a responsibility.
The Declaration of Independence declared that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed.” That principle still depends on people willing to participate, serve and care about the places they call home.
Self-government requires participation.
Government can help create the conditions for a strong community, but government does not build community by itself. People do.
In a free republic, citizens are not spectators. If something in our community needs to be better, self-government gives us more than the right to complain. It gives us the opportunity to serve, build, organize, invest, volunteer, speak up and help change it.
A community is not something that simply happens to us. It is something we help shape. Every store opened, team coached, board served, neighbor helped, building restored, event supported and idea pursued becomes part of the story.
That is how communities move forward — not by waiting for someone else to care, but by people deciding that this place is worth their effort.
Independence is something we honor.
Self-government is something we must practice.
Community is something we must build.
Freedom is something each generation must preserve, strengthen and pass on.
Here in Martinsburg, that work has been carried forward in streets and rail lines, churches and schools, factories and neighborhoods, public service and private effort, struggle and renewal.
Over the past several weeks, this America 250 series has traced how Martinsburg’s story connects to the larger American journey — from frontier settlement to revolution, from Civil War to statehood, from railroads to labor history, from industrial growth to civil rights, from service and sacrifice to modern reinvestment.
As we conclude, the lesson is simple, but powerful. History is not only something behind us. It is something we inherit. It is something we live with. And it is something we continue to shape.
As we mark America’s 250th anniversary, we invite you to stay engaged. Learn our history. Share your memories. Visit historic places. Support local events. Serve your community. Be involved. Help shape the next chapters of Martinsburg’s story.
Because the story is still being written.
It is written by those who preserve our past.
It is written by those who serve today.
It is written by those who invest, teach, build, protect, repair, volunteer and care.
It is written by each generation that chooses to believe this community is worth the work.
It is our story.
It is America’s story.
And it continues right here in Martinsburg, where America’s story runs through us.
Happy Birthday, America.
#America250
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Thank you to everyone who followed along with our America 250 series, “Where America’s Story Runs Through Martinsburg,” over the last four weeks.
The response has been remarkable. Many of you read, commented, shared memories, asked questions, offered photographs, corrected details and added perspective. You helped make this more than a series of posts. You helped make it a community conversation. And because of you, Martinsburg’s story has reached nearly a million views and counting.
As the project progressed, more events, people, places and dates came to light. The timeline kept growing because the story kept growing.
Before long, what began as a simple idea to share a few “interesting” historical tidbits became a much deeper reflection on Martinsburg’s place in the larger American journey — and on its consistent story of adaptation, resilience and, most importantly, people.
Obviously, not every event, person, place or photograph could be included. A relatively short series like this can only touch part of the story because each block, street and neighborhood in Martinsburg has a story of its own, and so do the people who have called this community home.
More than anything, the focus needed to be on Martinsburg’s story — not a byline and not any one person’s version of history. Martinsburg’s story belongs to the people who lived it, built it, preserved it, remembered it and continue to shape it.
This series was never just about old dates, old buildings or old photographs. It was about people. It was about place. It was about recognizing that America’s story did not happen only somewhere else. It happened here too, through generations of people who worked, served, worshiped, taught, built, rebuilt and kept going.
That is what made your participation so meaningful. History becomes stronger when people see themselves and their families in it. It becomes more complete when residents share what they know, what they remember and what this community has meant to them.
If you missed any of the posts, scroll back through the City’s page and follow the series from the beginning. Each post attempts to tell one part of the larger story of how Martinsburg has been connected to America’s story for nearly 250 years. There is no question that there is more to tell, even though some of the posts were lengthy. Eventually, we will archive the series on our website and try to tell more as we celebrate Martinsburg’s 250th in 2028.
America is not perfect. Martinsburg is not perfect. Neither has ever been. Even the Constitution begins with the goal of forming “a more perfect Union,” a reminder that the American project was never finished at the beginning. It has always required work.
We may never reach perfection, but that does not excuse us from trying. Each generation has the responsibility to make its community, its country and its promise a little stronger than it found them. What “more perfect” means has been debated and changed since the founding and will continue to be debated and changed by each generation that inherits the responsibility of self-government.
At 250 years old, America can feel divided at times. It has been divided before. Our nation has endured civil war, economic depression, world wars, struggles over civil rights and many seasons of disagreement about what freedom, fairness and self-government should mean in practice. Most people today would not want to relive those moments, but America — and Americans — ultimately pulled through these trying moments.
The American story has always included debate, sacrifice, correction and the ongoing effort to build something better. A free republic is not sustained by agreement alone. It is sustained by participation, responsibility and care. Each generation eventually had to find its way forward.
The question is whether our generation can continue that work — and whether we will find our way forward by doing our part to form a more perfect Union.
For 250 years, generations before us certainly believed America was worth building, defending, debating, improving and passing on. Some gave their time. Some gave their labor. Some gave their service. And many gave their lives. That inheritance now comes to us, and it is our turn to decide how we carry that responsibility forward.
Each of us only has a finite amount of time to leave our mark. That happens in many ways — by volunteering, serving, opening or running a business, teaching, coaching, building, preserving, investing, raising and being present for your family or simply choosing to care about the place we call home.
We can use that time to preserve what matters, improve what we can and help carry the story forward.
Thank you again for your interest, your engagement and your pride in Martinsburg. I am grateful for the opportunity to help tell even a small part of this community’s story, and I feel privileged to be just a small part of Martinsburg’s long history.
The story is still being written and we have much work left to do to write our own history. So, onward to 251.
— Andy Blake
City Manager, City of Martinsburg
July 5, 2026
More than 250 years of Martinsburg history. One American story.
