By central Florida standards, the summer Saturday morning in Royal was mild.
“The rain yesterday cooled things off,” said Cliff Hughes as he prepared chicken thighs and drumsticks in the parking lot adjacent to the site of the former Royal Community School, now part of a 4-acre park. He had two large, deep frying pans going on a gas grill set up next to the tailgate of his truck, both pans full of golden-brown chicken popping in the hot grease.
“It’s an old family recipe,” Hughes said when asked about the chicken. “You understand, I can’t tell you what’s in it.”
Inside the fence around the park, pop-up cabanas formed a perimeter along the sidewalk. Beverly Steele, founder of Young Performing Artists, Inc. (YPAs), moved from person to person, checking tasks off her list as preparations were being made for the community’s pageant, part of the annual Royal Homecoming festivities.
The Saturday, June 14 events — a pageant to name the year’s king and queen preceding a community picnic — were small affairs, with a DJ providing music. Several dozen residents showed up, but the large crowds would hold off until the next day, when vendors and thousands of people were expected for a car show, concerts and other events in the state’s last remaining “40 acres and a mule” homestead community.
For those few hours on June 14, though, what is truly unique about Royal was on full display. People who still live in the mostly agrarian community called out to friends and family as they arrived, smiles and hugs shared before swapping stories and news.
I think it’s good for everybody to come together. No issues — just music, dancing and getting to know each other if you don’t already know each other.”
Jubilette Huff, a 19-year-old Royal native
Unlike other post-Civil War land grant towns, Royal managed to maintain its integrity for 160 years. The only other remaining land grant community is in Nicodemus, Kansas. And YPAs, the driving force behind not only the pageant but the community’s ongoing push to be listed in the National Register of Historic Places, is embracing a holistic approach to ensure that what is rare and special about the community is preserved.
The Southern Poverty Law Center partnered with the Royal community in 2023. It is continuing its work with YPAs and the community in seeking recognition from the National Register. The historic designation would help the residents of Royal preserve their community. Supporters can sign a petition to join in the community’s effort to be listed in the National Register.
“It’s always a joy to return to Royal. This is our second Homecoming, and everyone makes us feel so welcome here,” said Malissa Williams, senior staff attorney on the SPLC’s Economic Justice litigation team.
“Since 1910, Black Americans have lost more than 90% of the 16 million acres of land they once owned due to racial violence, discriminatory housing practices, eminent domain and economic displacement,” Williams said. “Royal is truly exceptional in that descendants of the founding families have largely been able to hold onto their land for more than a century.”
The Royal homecoming events, including the pageant, are part of the community’s efforts to include young people in the self-preservation efforts for future generations.
“The king and queen idea came to us not because we needed a king and a queen, but because we’re a community and we’re embracing all of the ages of the community,” Steele said. “If we did a king and queen competition, we wanted to make it throughout the ages, throughout the generation. The whole point of it was that the young generation wanted to be involved. They wanted to have their voices heard.”
Fighting time and tide
Like much of Florida’s natural beauty, the community is under siege as developers eye what was once rural farmland, now isolated within the expansion of the neighboring city of Wildwood. Minutes away from The Villages, the largest retirement community in the U.S., Royal also has easy transportation access due to Interstate 75 running through its heart.
In other words, it’s perfectly located for commercial and industrial development. But unlike other areas where the younger generation has left to seek jobs and adventure elsewhere, Royal has persevered.
“I just feel like, once I am done, I will come back,” said Jubilette Huff, a 19-year-old Royal native who is studying nursing at a college in Jacksonville, Florida. “Maybe not for long, but I will be coming back. That’s why I came down here this weekend to help Miss Beverly. I think it’s good for everybody to come together. No issues — just music, dancing and getting to know each other if you don’t already know each other.”
Others have left Royal to make their way, whether it be for school or military service. Almost to a person, they all say there was one thing they could not find anywhere else — the close-knit community that exists for them in Royal.
“When I first started walking around, all this was dirt,” said Rolando Erving, still wearing the silver band of his newly won “Mr. Royal” crown. “I learned to shoot marbles here. I went to school here. We had a big after-school program. My aunties would get us off the school bus and we would come here. They would help us with our homework. That taught us the importance of education.”
Clockwise from top left: Cliff Hughes fries chicken in the parking lot near the site of the former Royal Community School; Beverly Steele, founder of Young Performing Artists Inc.; Maitland Keiler at the Alonzo A. Young, Sr. Enrichment & Historical Center in Royal, Florida; Roland Erving, winner of this year’s “Mr. Royal” crown. (Credit: Saúl Martínez)
Growing up in Royal also taught Erving to appreciate hard work.
“The family had big, vast tobacco fields,” Erving said. “We used to come out and I would ride on the back of the wagon. I didn’t do any work, I was too small. But you know, they were gearing you up to get you ready. You can believe that part.”
He left Royal to attend Bethune-Cookman College, then joined the military. He spent several decades in Georgia after leaving the service with a medical honorable discharge before the call of Royal brought him back.
“As I grew up, you could see it kind of fading away, a little bit at a time, and the industrial part moving in,” Erving said. “So, it, it’s just a crime. It’s a crime.”
Change and persistence
For Dionne Solomon, who works as a financial crimes analyst, the outside world encroaching on Royal’s tranquility is a concern. But her bond to the place goes beyond that, she said.
“It brought me a sense of knowing who you are, always going back to your roots and always remembering who you are,” she said. “Even when I left and went to college, my mom would always instill that in us. ‘Regardless of where you go or what type higher degrees you get, just always remember who you are and where you came from.’
“And the older that I got, I realized what she actually meant when she said that,” Solomon said. “There’s not a lot of places like the community of Royal. So to be able to say that my grandparents are from here, live here, own land here and I was raised on that land, it’s very significant.”
Those who never left are also keenly aware of what they have in Royal.
“My father passed when I was 8 years old,” said Maitland Keiler, one of the community’s elders at 92. “I had to drop out of school and help my mom. I had a sister and two more brothers. I had to drop out of school and help with the children. My mother had to walk 5 miles a day to work, but she did.”
Keiler said it was the support of family and neighbors that helped them to survive.
“I mean, you have help and family all around you,” Keiler said. “She got quite a bit of help from her relatives who would help her with us because we were so small. But if she’d have been somewhere else, it’s possible that she couldn’t have got that help.”
Digging in for the long haul
Sabrina Wideman LaSane left Royal in 1979. It would take 44 years, but she finally moved back in 2023. She built a home on the property that was passed down from Jim Patterson, her great grandfather. She remembers the work and sacrifice that went into the family being able to keep the land.
“My grandfather was a farmer for other, mainly white, farmers in the Oxford area,” LaSane said. “He would transport and supervise workers during the day, then work his crops and care for the livestock, until dark. After attending school, my cousins and I would spend the remainder of the day working on the farm. We had to help our grandparents keep the farm.”
Brien Sesler, a 20-year-old Royal native who works in banking, said that tie to the land is still strong, even for the newest generation.
“Royal is all I’ve ever known,” Sesler said. “This is where I learned craftsmanship. This is where I’ve learned a lot of my life skills. Feeling that ripped out does not feel well at all. I’m just going to just tell you, learning things that Miss Huff taught us, learning stuff that Miss Beverly taught us, that’s not something that just disappears out of your mind. That’s something that sticks with you for life.”
Sesler is still living in Royal, but he knows he may move away at some point. He also knows he would always be looking to return.
“Even though we may move away, being able to come back and relive that moment means a lot,” Sesler said. “That being threatened, that really does stab a hole in our hearts.”
Picture at top: Festivities for this year’s Royal Homecoming, held June 14 and 15, included a pageant, picnic, a car show and concerts. Royal, Florida, is one of two land grant communities remaining in the U.S. (Credit: Saúl Martínez)
