Alonzo Herndon
He Made His Opportunities
[Reprinted from Issues & Views Summer 1998]
Over the years, Issues & Views
has published historical features that tell the stories of black men who began
life with little more than their bootstraps. Such men recognized how much they
could achieve even within the bounds of social restrictions. They pulled hard
on those bootstraps, which were mainly nothing more than their own muscle and
brain power, and lifted not only themselves but others with them.
Alonzo Herndon is an outstanding example of such a man. Like thousands of
others who had been born in servitude and freed into poverty, he was neither
demoralized nor too dispirited to reach for a better future. Born in 1858 on a
Georgia plantation, Alonzo and his family were emancipated when he was seven
years old. With hardly more than some bedding and a few cooking utensils, he,
his mother Sophonie, grandparents and brother set out with their new freed
status and uncertain prospects.
Their first housing was a small shack that they shared with other families.
Sophonie hired herself out as a day worker, and his grandfather got a job
pulling a cross-cut saw. Alonzo joined him in this work, and between the three
family members, they managed to subsist.
When Alonzo was 13, the family’s former master offered him a job as a
farmhand. Each day when his farm chores were done, Alonzo peddled peanuts,
candies and other small items wherever he could. Throughout these hard years,
he also managed to get some infrequent schooling and acquired about a year of
formal education.
At 20, he set out to find better employment in Senoia, Georgia, where he
again worked on a farm, but also found part-time work as a hair cutter. He
learned the barbering trade so well that eventually he was able to rent his own
space in a barbershop. Here, he managed to save enough money to move to
Jonesboro, near Atlanta, where he opened his own small barbershop and managed
to eke out an adequate living.
When offered a better-paying job by the black proprietor of a highly
successful Atlanta barbershop, Herndon accepted. At Dougherty Hutchins’
shop, which catered to a wealthy, white clientele, Herndon honed his barbering
skills and he became the most sought after barber in the shop. He was known for
his competent, courteous service, and in less than a year, he and the owner
became partners, and the shop’s name was changed to Hutchins &
Herndon.
Three years later, in 1886, Herndon grabbed the opportunity to rent a shop
of his own on one of Atlanta’s busiest downtown streets. Here he thought
he would settle, but his exceptional reputation was spreading far and wide. One
year later, he accepted rental space in the city’s prestigious Markham
House Hotel. Beginning with just a few chairs in his shop, Herndon eventually
expanded to 12 chairs and hired assisting barbers. The shop was a great success
and Herndon thrived.
Instead of being satisfied, however, his entrepreneurial spirit yearned for
still more challenges. During the 10 years that he ran the hotel barbershop, he
diligently saved money with plans to fulfill his desire to open a unique kind
of shop, with innovations best accomplished outside the confines of a hotel.
He was still contemplating his next move, when fate made the decision for
him. In 1896, the beautiful Markham Hotel burned down, leaving Herndon to open
a temporary shop, and search for better quarters. In 1902, at 66 Peachtree
Street, he opened the shop of his dreams that was to become known as one of the
most elegant establishments in Atlanta. Herndon had seen a need and positioned
himself to fill it.
Here are some descriptions of this shop in African-American Business
Leaders (Ingham & Feldman): "The shop measured 24 by 102 feet, had
25 chairs and 18 baths with tubs and showers. . . . Herndon outfitted it with
crystal chandeliers, gilt-framed mirrors and fittings, massive front doors of
solid mahogany, and beveled plate glass . . . . It was, according to the New
York World, ‘known from Richmond all the way to Mobile as the best
barbershop in the South.’" It was an unofficial city attraction,
since tourists as well as local Atlantans came to stare at it in wonder.
The barbershop period was just the first part of Alonzo Herndon’s
success story. During these good years, he had been investing in real estate.
The barbering trade proved to be the perfect setting to pick up information
from his upscale customers. Gradually he learned the ins and outs of the real
estate market.
In Atlanta, he acquired over a hundred residential houses, along with a
large commercial block of properties. By any measure, he was now a wealthy man.
The Atlanta History Journal says of Herndon: "His life and work
stated his politics. Black business was his personal strategy; black economic
cooperation his hope for the community."
His wealth and the fame of his shop made him a prominent figure in the black
community, and a much sought after bachelor. In 1893, he married a young woman
from Atlanta’s old black elite--Adrienne Elizabeth McNeil. After
graduating from Atlanta University, she was hired there as a faculty member,
and taught elocution and drama. She was already making her mark in cultural
circles when she married Alonzo, the self-taught farmhand turned barber turned
financial mogul.
Since the latter 19th century, blacks had been forming church relief
societies, benevolent associations and various types of fraternal groups (see
Issues & Views, Fall 1996). These self-help institutions provided
funds for home mortgages, death benefits and, in some cases, loans to
capitalize small businesses. Many of these societies laid the foundation for
the insurance companies that would be established by blacks in the future.
In 1905, Herndon was approached by two prominent black church pastors. One
of them, Rev. Peter Bryant, had recently formed the Atlanta Benevolent &
Protective Association, which was in dire need of capital. Herndon agreed to
invest in the company and also helped Bryant reorganize it. The company was
renamed Atlanta Mutual Insurance Association. Later, it would gain fame as
Atlanta Life Insurance company. Herndon was named its first president.
Knowing nothing about the insurance business, he set about finding men who
did. He lucked out when he recruited the experienced John Crew, who was given
full responsibility for running the company. He and Herndon hired a staff and
agents, and throughout the next year opened several branch offices in Georgia.
Through one acquisition and merger after another, Atlanta Life grew. The
clients of small, failing companies, who were in jeopardy of losing their
policies, were given reprieves when such companies were taken over by Atlanta
Life. Confidence in the company and in Herndon’s ability and judgment
grew. An editor of the Atlanta Independent newspaper, wrote, "When
people buy a policy in Atlanta Life they are buying Alonzo Herndon." In
1918, the company moved to 132 Auburn, a legendary avenue that became the heart
of Atlanta’s black business district.
Herndon was head of Atlanta Life for 22 years and expanded operations into
six other southern states. The company’s only rival among black-owned
insurance firms, in terms of income and profits, was the highly successful
North Carolina Mutual in Durham. This was one of several well capitalized and
efficiently managed institutions, that made Durham an important center of black
enterprise (see Issues & Views, Winter 1993).
The 1920s were prosperous years for Atlanta Life, a prosperity that
continued under the able leadership of Herndon’s only child, Norris, long
after Alonzo’s death in 1927. The company, which is still in operation and
is now housed in a complex of its new and old buildings, provided employment
for hundreds of blacks.
In addition to constructing and developing office buildings in the 1920s, in
1915, Alonzo and Adrienne completed construction of their own mansion. Known
today as the Herndon Home, it is an Atlanta landmark and is supported by a
special foundation created by their son. Norris lived here until his death in
1947.
Still on a wall of a room in the Herndon Home is a painted mural that Alonzo
always proudly displayed. It is a depiction of his mother and family, on the
plantation, standing before their humble log cabin, in their tattered clothes,
near that fateful moment when they set out on their journey with bedrolls,
quilts and tin pots.
Copyright 1998 Issues & Views
|