When Roanoke’s Crossroads Mall opened in 1961, it was like Christmas and Fourth of July combined. This was the first enclosed, suburban shopping center in all of Virginia. It drew customers and curiosity seekers from miles around. According to Steven Swain, a blogger who traced the mall’s history, “Developer T.D. Steele and his designers created a unique and popular shopping experience for an eager public. Throngs of shoppers left the long-dominant downtown to stroll through a grand two-story interior shopping hall.”

By 1962, two more suburban malls had opened in Roanoke, and around the same time, they popped up in cities and towns throughout the Appalachian South. Crossroads ushered in a new way of living, one that prioritized convenience and comfort. Shoppers no longer had to worry about weather, wind, or mud puddles. Their world was being primped and paved, and it was built to a new scale–one that fit the automobile. Errands were measured in miles not blocks, and walking would soon become outmoded.

Decades later, there is a lot of buzz about what was lost when we suburbanized the nation, but fifty years ago, Crossroads was groundbreaking. It helped mark the dawn of an era.

To commemerate this anniversary, The Roanoke Times asked readers to share their memories about the mall. Surprisingly, only two have been posted. The first commenter, a fellow named Greg, glows over Crossroads:

“Crossroads was where we always went to see Santa and I remember him arriving by helicopter near the J C Penney’s warehouse which is now Gold’s Gym. There were so many cool things at the mall. The water fountain outside Penney’s, TIMEOUT arcade, Orange Julius, Michaels Bakery, etc. etc.”

The second post (which is currently pending review) is mine, and it takes a different tone. I remember most of the stores that Greg names but in a less cheery light. I grew up about a mile from Crossroads Mall. We moved to the area when my parents divorced. My mother left her three bedroom house, the first and only property she ever owned, for a third-floor apartment near a rough and tumble drag called Williamson Road. This was the early 1980s. By this point, both the mall and the neighborhood had passed their prime, and some days, it seemed like my family had too. The Roanoke Times probably wasn’t expecting memories like mine, but for me, Crossroads wasn’t filled with wonders. It was a reminder of all that we’d lost.

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