The Edwardsville community in Northumberland County also could be called “Richmond on the Potomac,” the reference being to the large number of Richmond families who have second homes there, or to others who have retired and moved from the capital city to live in the peaceful environs of the south shore of the river.
After the Second World War, Edwardsville and Sandy Point, where the Great Wicomico River empties into the Chesapeake Bay, became the retreats, the getaways, for Richmonders anxious to escape the hustle of the city.
Among those Richmond natives who sojourned on the Potomac shoreline were the members of the Melvin family, the modern patriarch of which was Jim Melvin, who died last month at the age of 91. Jim was a Virginia Original, born in Richmond, graduate of Benedictine High School, who went down to Belmont, North Carolina, to matriculate at Belmont Abbey College.
Upon graduation, he returned to Richmond to begin what developed into a long and fruitful career with Virginia Electric Power Company, an institution that, despite its name changes over the years, I still think of as Vepco.
In their free time, Jim and his wife, Joyce, and their children were stalwart members of Edwardsville’s “Richmond” contingent. In retirement, their ties to the capital remained, with Jim spending his leisure years working for the General Assembly, where he served as Sergeant at Arms in the House of Delegates, and with Joyce working as a legislative aide. Jim particularly enjoyed carrying the Mace into the House Chamber as a session would begin.
Horticulture became one of Jim’s abiding interests after he retired the second time. His two specialties were gardenias and oleander bushes. He was abundantly generous with his cuttings, which he nurtured into plants. About 25 years ago, he gave me two of the gardenias he had slipped, with his instructions on how to care for them.
Both developed into magnificent specimens, until a severe winter freeze hit them 15 years ago, killing them down to the ground. When I told Jim, he said not to give up on them, that they would come back from the roots. How right he was! Today, they are massive shrubs, almost eight feet tall with hundreds of blossoms lasting almost several weeks in sequence. Gardenias come in a variety of species. Happily, Jim’s have shiny, deep green leaves and large, brilliant, heavily aromatic flowers.
I never have toured a perfume factory, but I assume walking past Jim’s gardenias must be an analogous experience. Mindful of his generosity, I have slipped shoots that I have passed along to others, thereby carrying on Jim’s tradition.
Unfortunately, I did not do as well with his oleander clippings. I planted them as he instructed, but they did not survive the first winter. When I told Jim of their fate, he said that they were more difficult to propagate successfully than gardenias. I have enjoyed the oleander bushes that abound throughout Italy, particularly in Rome, and hope one day to see them in our yard. When that day comes, Jim will be on my mind.
Jim wore many hats during his lifetime, but he best could be described as a raconteur. He thrived on telling stories, often ending with a moral to demonstrate a principle. As a product of Benedictine education, he was the living epitome of logic, coupled with unending intellectual curiosity. Notably, given his retirement career with the House of Delegates, he was equipped to speak on all matters political, which he did enthusiastically and profoundly.
Jim’s interests were manifested in his questioning mind, replete with his personal need to find answers to uncertainties. To be trite, throughout his lifetime, he never was “at a loss for words,” and he spoke them eloquently and with compassion for those who heard them.
James Meredith “Jim” Melvin, April 8, 1934 – March 15, 2026. R.I.P.
