In October, Councilmember Barbara Henley’s colleagues were considering a permit for a manufacturer in the southern reaches of Virginia Beach she’s represented for decades.
Henley, trying to stop it, read from prepared remarks.
Henley, long a watchdog of how the city uses its land, gave a history of how plans for the area have shifted; agricultural land that was supposed to be a biomedical park was being industrialized.
A fine company, she argued, but it shouldn’t go here.
“I’m going to make a motion that this application for a bulk storage facility be denied,” Henley said.
“Is there a second?” Mayor Bobby Dyer asked.
No one spoke. Henley adjusted papers.
“Is there a second?” Dyer asked again.
The moment resonates months later.
“I couldn’t even get a second,” Henley said in a family farmhouse that is now a market in Pungo, her father’s old baseball uniform behind her, a strawberry field outside.
She is 83 and has spent half her life in office championing rural communities and agriculture in Virginia’s most populous city, known for tourism and the military. Times have changed, but Henley’s mission is steadfast. She wants to prevent intense development, but her colleagues sometimes outvote her.
In addition, a new voting system she opposed is shaping a place that’s far different from what it was when she first won office in 1978. Henley is isolated on a council she’s served longer than anyone else in the city’s history.
“Absolutely,” she said.
Henley is running this year for another term.
“I kept looking for somebody who would be from this southern part of the district and would know the people and the people would know the person,” Henley said. “And I haven’t found that person, so it looks like it’s going to be me.”
“We’d like to stay rural as long as possible,” Henley told The Virginian-Pilot in 1977.
The newspaper described her as a “demure Pungo housewife” fighting to protect farmland from development. Henley recently laughed at that description.
“Pungo housewife, yes, but not demure.”
Henley and her husband, G. Winston Henley, a farmer known as “Winky,” had been high school sweethearts who married when she was in college. She’d taught until they had their sons. There are great-grandchildren now.
Agriculture was already in decline in the 1970s and development pressure loomed. Henley led the Pungo-Back Bay Civic League and was active with the Virginia Beach Council of Civic Organizations and environmental causes.
“Building was just hot and heavy, really going fast at that time,” Henley said. “The ‘70s and ‘80s was when it was just going so strong and everything was kind of at stake – the schools, lack of infrastructure. It was a very different time.”
In 1964, a year after the modern city formed, there were 394 farms working 62,998 acres, according to federal data. That fell to 228 farms on 43,646 acres by 1978, when Henley first won office. The most recent U.S. Census of Agriculture, as of four years ago, shows 129 farms with 23,140 acres.
Henley toppled an incumbent in 1978 and became part of a minority faction, aligned with then-Councilmember Meyera Oberndorf, the first woman elected to the council and later mayor. Henley was the second woman elected to the council. Soon, the city established the Green Line, an anti-sprawl boundary.
The newspaper called Henley “a leader in fashioning city policy on growth and planning” who could bring civic and business factions together, though some landowners possibly affected by the changes criticized her.
Over the years, she suffered election defeats but returned to fight.
“I think the important thing is, the times I was off, things I worked for were pretty much ignored,” Henley said after winning reelection in 2022. “And that’s why I came back.”
Henley’s great achievement may be the establishment in 1995 of the agricultural reserve program, which preserves farmland.
Henley was criticized in 2012 for enrolling the family farm in the ARP; she told The Pilot they’d delayed doing so, anticipating the scrutiny. The ARP has preserved more than 11,100 acres to date, roughly half the acreage still farmed in Virginia Beach.
How the city transitions from the Green Line toward the rural area of the city has been a focus for Henley. In 2004, the city established a boundary for extending city water and sewer services in the rural area. The boundary is now called the Blue Line. Votes about land between the Green and Blue lines have led to conflict over the past few years.
The city has approved dense housing in the area and blessed new homes on land that had been set aside as open space. Now, Virginia Beach is poised to redefine what is allowed in an area below the Green Line to accommodate industry within the Interfacility Traffic Area.
The ITA is a part of that area between the Green and Blue lines. It dates to 2005 and is between Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach and Naval Auxiliary Landing Field Fentress in Chesapeake. The city bought a large amount of land in an overflight area to prevent encroachment on the jet base. Residential development is strictly limited in the zone but the land is not untouchable.
The city carved out 155 acres in 2016 for a biomedical research park that flopped. So the city turned to light industrial uses, which took off. A new proposal would extend them into the ITA, mixing it with sports tourism, agricultural and municipal uses already permissible in existing plans.
Henley isn’t ready to compromise on industrial use there.
She believes she can still speak for the southern city and provide history and perspective.
“I think that’s my job,” she said.
She will face competition. Jeff Bruzzesi, a businessperson endorsed by the city GOP, and Elaine Fekete, a Sandbridge civic league president who challenged Henley last time, are seeking the District 2 seat.
Farmer John Cromwell, a planning commissioner and head of the local Farm Bureau board, said Henley knows agriculture and the city.
“In this day and age, when you don’t know, you hit Google,” he said. “Barbara is the Google of the city.”
If not her, who?
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Cromwell said.
Michael Mauch, a 42-year-old businessperson from Pungo who serves on the Planning Commission, was one of several people who challenged Henley in 2022. Speaking before Henley confirmed she would run again, Mauch said his decision this year would be influenced by her choice.
“I wish that I was the one to be able to carry that torch because the things she finds important I find important,” he said, adding that he’d try to work with the council.
Mauch said he doesn’t know whether Henley is preparing someone to succeed her and she won’t be here to fight for the area forever.
“When that day comes, as hard as she’s worked to preserve everything to make our southern part of the city great, what position will we be in?” Mauch said. “I think that’s something for her to think about.”
In late May, Mauch learned Henley planned to run again. He was unsure what he would do. The deadline for candidates to file passed last week. Mauch isn’t running.
In January, Henley hadn’t made up her mind about running. She said she was waiting to see who was in it.
That month, the council appointed three new members to a citizens’ committee that advises the city on land-use decisions within the ITA. Two were from companies that have had matters below the Green Line and Henley opposed, only to be outvoted. Councilmember Stacy Cummings was added to the committee as a second liaison.
Dyer called for the vote on the appointments at City Hall.
“Mr. Mayor, I’m going to abstain because I did not have the list,” Henley said. “I was not here last week. I just didn’t get it.”
“OK,” Dyer said. “Thank you.”
Later that week, Henley told dozens of people who attended her monthly district forum about the appointments. She’d missed the previous meeting because her husband was in the emergency room.
The chairperson of the advisory committee, Diana Hicks, attended Henley’s town hall. The council majority hadn’t reappointed Hicks, who has argued against industrial expansion in the ITA, often speaking on behalf of the committee.
“She is one of the people that they replaced,” Henley said at the forum.
Hicks got a round of applause.
That evening, Henley told people they shouldn’t become discouraged when citizens speak out and a vote goes the other way. She urged them to tell the whole city what’s happening.
“We have to have six votes,” she said.
Henley said a new voting system has made that harder.
The council used to work under a system in which seven district representatives were among the 11 members and all elections were held citywide. That meant people outside of a district helped pick that district’s representation.
In 2021, a federal judge found the former system discriminated against minority voters, leading to the new 10-district system first used in 2022. Years of court and political battles followed, but the system was codified in the city charter this year.
Henley opposed the new system. Carving the city into 10 single-member districts meant that only one member and the mayor are answerable to voters, who used to help elect all 11, she said.
“Everybody had to be concerned about this part of the city because we voted for them or not.”
It’s tough now to get six votes for District 2, which encompasses much of the land in the southern city.
“That’s a tremendous responsibility, and especially when, you know, you look at all the planning that has occurred within our city and in that area of our city over the years,” former Mayor Will Sessoms said.
Sessoms thinks back to past council coalitions, such as between civic groups and the business community in the 1980s. Sessoms said Henley’s knowledge could help the next coalition.
Dyer recently called Henley a “stalwart champion” for District 2 but said the city needs places for people to live and work.
“We have a challenge where we’re running out of land,” Dyer said.
Don Horsley, a Blackwater farmer who served on the Planning Commission for decades, was involved in a committee that led to the development of the ARP in the 1990s. More recently, he was a plaintiff in a state lawsuit that challenged the 10-district voting system in court.
In 2022, the first year under the new system, few outside District 2 attended a candidates' night held in rural Back Bay. “We’ve had these forums before and the house was packed,” Horsley said that night.
Horsley thinks the world of Henley and what she has meant to the area.
“It’s probably a little bit harder with this new system trying to get things done than it used to be,” he said.
Horsley leases and farms some of the city-owned land that may be affected by proposals under discussion for the ITA and serves on the development authority, which proposed more industrial use there.
There may be a compromise, he said.
In April, Winky Henley died at the age of 86. Dyer began a meeting with a moment of silence and prayer, while Henley’s seat at the table was empty.
The funeral was April 15. A day later, Barbara Henley was back at City Hall.
“The house is too empty right now,” she said. They were married for 63 years.
The following week, council adopted an updated land-use policy that had been in the works for years. Henley tried to delay the vote over changes to the draft. She argued for a deferral.
“I think we’re rushing this thing through,” Henley said.
Yet she hesitated, not wanting to make a motion if nobody would even second it.
“I’ll second it,” Councilmember Jennifer Rouse said.
While some said the plan was a compromise, Henley said it changed policies affecting her district. Henley, Rouse and Councilmember Cash Jackson-Green supported Henley, but the majority didn’t and the plan passed.
To Rouse, a pause made sense. She’s voted with Henley at times because Henley is the district representative. Rouse respects Henley’s service, her institutional knowledge and that she has persisted as a woman in politics for decades.
“I think that Barbara is very passionate about the rural community,” Rouse said. “That is her North Star.”
Rouse added, “Sometimes it’s presented that District 2 is a separate world from the rest of the city.”
Rouse said Henley’s challenge is highlighting what’s unique about District 2 while connecting that to where the overall city is now and where it’s going.
Jackson-Green later said he voted with Henley because she needed support from colleagues.
Council usually works together effectively, he said.
“But when it comes to this Green Line and Barbara Henley’s district, that’s the only place I see this council is really fragmented,” he said.
Jackson-Green said he’ll look to Henley about the ITA.
“Barbara Henley has a mission that hasn’t changed since being elected, and I don’t think she has the votes to keep that mission alive,” he said.
Henley believes she can still be a voice for the southern city, particularly as the city comes closer to changing land use below the Green Line. She can be a reminder that farming is a business.
“We’re taking it from one industry and giving it to another,” Henley said.
In 2022, Louis Jones, a former mayor and vice mayor, sought reelection after 36 years in office. He and Henley had served roughly the same number of years on council at the time. Jones told a reporter there were still things to see through.
He died while campaigning at the age of 86.
Henley had served as vice mayor to Jones’ mayor in the 1980s. She regarded him as honest, a reliable sounding board. She was 79 in 2022, running after hinting she might not. Henley won in the new system and soon surpassed Jones as the longest-serving council member.
“Louis was doing what he wanted to do, what he felt really committed to doing,” Henley said, when asked recently about Jones’ decision to run in 2022.
“I am old,” Henley said. “I am 83 and once you get to be 80, you can’t deny it anymore.”
She believes she can be effective.
“I’m darned sure going to try,” Henley said. “I think if I’m not there or somebody who knows the background, I think then the background is not going to get considered.”
Had Winky lived, she said she wouldn’t have run again.
After he died, folks asked what she’d do.
“Either I walk away and see everything I’ve spent 40 years trying to preserve go away or I stick around and try to make sure it does what we want it to do.”
From a farmhouse next to a strawberry field, the consequences seem clear.
“We won’t get back what we have,” she said.
