Patrick Range II still remembers the stories his grandmother, the late M. Athalie Range, used to tell him about 鈥� the baptisms, easter sunrise services, the smell of sizzling corn dogs from the concession stand, and the laughter of families gathered under the swaying palms.
For her, it was more than just a beach. It was a hard-won place of belonging.
Now, decades later, another Athalie 鈥� Athalie Edwards 鈥� stands barefoot near the water鈥檚 edge, gazing out at the waves that once taught her family how to swim. She recalls the stories passed down of people ferrying across the bay before the causeway even existed.
鈥淭hose stories just show me how resilient this park is, even though there was no causeway,鈥� said Edwards, now the executive director of the Historic Virginia Key Beach Park Trust. 鈥淲e've shown how the Black community has stood by Historic Virginia Key Beach.鈥�
As the of the historic 鈥渃olored beach鈥� approaches this week, those memories have become even more sacred.
鈥淲hat the anniversary symbolizes to me is a time of celebration and reflection on how far we have come as a people,鈥� said Range, who served as the Trust鈥檚 former chair. 鈥淭he park is no longer segregated, and people from all walks of life can enjoy the beautiful scenery. That means something.鈥�
A beach born of resistance
Virginia Key Beach鈥檚 roots trace back to 1896, the year Miami was founded, with Black men making up about one-third of the charter鈥檚 original signers. But that same year, the U.S. Supreme Court legalized racial segregation. By the 1920s, white-only beaches and swimming areas dominated the coast.
Black millionaire D.A. Dorsey purchased Fisher Island to create a beach for African Americans, but rising taxes forced him to sell it. For years, Black Miamians had no shoreline access 鈥� that is, until May 1945, when civil rights attorney Lawson E. Thomas and others led a peaceful 鈥渨ade-in鈥� protest at Haulover Beach demanding equal access.
鈥淭hese are individuals who put their lives on the line, went down to a beach that was only designated for white individuals, to make history,鈥� said Edwards.
Rather than make arrests, county officials offered an alternative: Virginia Key Beach would open that August to Black residents.
Community activist and artist Dinizulu Gene Tinnie, who later helped preserve the park, said it 鈥渄eveloped into a 鈥榗olored beach鈥� unlike any other in the South,鈥� with rare amenities like a dance floor, amusement rides, a bathhouse and rental cottages, further enhanced by the Rickenbacker Causeway鈥檚 construction.
Miami artist Charles Humes Jr., now 73, recalls the contrast of exclusion. As a child, he and his brother waited in the car while their father picked up their mother from work along Collins Avenue 鈥� segregation barring them from the beach.
鈥淲e had to sit and watch other white children and adults walking and playing and frolicking along the horizon,鈥� he said. 鈥淓ven though we could not enjoy the sand and the surf, it was a delight just to witness the sights and those beautiful beach sounds of other children playing along the shore, which was so different from the playgrounds where we lived.鈥�
Edwards recalled a discriminatory practice used to determine social status or access to certain spaces based on the color of one鈥檚 skin.
鈥淚f you couldn't pass the paper bag test, you had to come here,鈥� she said.
A sanctuary by the sea
Despite segregation, the beach became a sanctuary 鈥� a rare, beautiful place where locals, tourists and civil rights icons like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. gathered. The 1945 protest strategy would echo in future civil rights actions.
鈥淵ou can't talk about civil rights history in Miami and not mention Virginia Key Beach Park,鈥� said Range.
He noted how Virginia Key鈥檚 story inspired future events, including the 1959 wade-in at Crandon Park, led by his grandfather, Oscar Range, and The Miami Times Publisher Emeritus Garth C. Reeves. It quietly helped end in Miami.
Even after desegregation, Virginia Key remained a cherished place for Black families, as well as for Caribbean and South American immigrants.
Tinnie, who moved to Miami in 1974, recalled one of his first visits:
鈥淎 Venezuelan family shared their arroz con pollo, and we shared our barbecued chicken. You could just meet people and become friends for a day or longer. That鈥檚 the kind of thing parks do.鈥�
READ MORE: 'White Sand, Black Beach' : Virginia Key And The Politics Of WaterFront
Restoration and preservation
In 1982, the City of Miami acquired the beach but closed it soon after, citing high maintenance costs. It deteriorated, used only for special events and police training. In 1999, Tinnie and others discovered plans to develop the site into a private resort. Inspired by the grassroots campaign to save the Miami Circle, they organized to reclaim the beach.
One key figure was M. Athalie Range, the first Black Miami city commissioner. Despite being in her 80s, she told Tinnie, 鈥淕ene, I think I鈥檝e got one more good fight left in me,鈥� he recalled.
With her leadership and support from Commissioner Arthur E. Teele Jr., a task force was formed, eventually becoming the Virginia Key Beach Park Trust. Patrick Range became its chair and secured county funds to restore the beach and create a museum telling its story.
The park was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2002 and reopened to the public in 2008.
Range remembers walking the site with his grandmother in those early days, removing invasive species and restoring the grounds.
鈥淭o get to witness and be a part of bringing back some of the historic amenities 鈥� the carousel, the mini train, the dance pavilion 鈥� and recall the memories of what those things were during segregation times and how our people enjoyed them, that process was tremendous for me,鈥� he said.
Range joined the Trust board in 2006 after the passing of his grandmother and eventually became chair, carrying forward her vision for full restoration and a Black history museum. He was, however, unable to complete the museum during his tenure, after the city commission the Trust board in 2022.
According to Edwards, the museum, which has been stalled for several years, will have its groundbreaking later this year.
The legacy
Today, the 80-acre park remains a vibrant gathering space and cultural classroom, led by Edwards. The anniversary theme, 鈥淔rom Coastlines to Communities,鈥� reflects the journey of Black neighborhoods to the beach.
鈥淥ur current theme is definitely bringing awareness to where we've come from, which is the inland part of Miami all the way down to the shoreline of the beach,鈥� she said.
Edwards continues to advocate for funds to restore the playground, the merry-go-round and the train. Through partnerships with historians, schools, environmentalists and international organizations, she envisions a vibrant future rooted in legacy.
鈥淲e鈥檙e going into schools and providing curriculum so youth understand who the founders were and what took place back then in order for African Americans to have a place to recreate.鈥�
For Tinnie and Range, the anniversary is both a celebration and a call to action.
鈥淲e will continue to fight for the things we deserve in this community, including a museum dedicated to our history,鈥� Range said.
In the meantime, waves continue to roll in, the palm trees still sway, and stories echo along the shore. And Edwards remains committed to what she refers to as the park's "everlasting story."
鈥淭he park is resilient. The people who founded the park were resilient, and the community that we serve continues to be resilient,鈥� she said. 鈥淲e want to make sure that we can keep that legacy going.鈥�
This story was produced by The Miami Times, one of the oldest Black-owned newspapers in the country, as part of a content sharing partnership with the SA国际传谋 newsroom. Read more at .
