Mallory McCune with the stone placed by her grandfather Karl Williams on the family homestead; it reads: “Varina — since 1611 — Birthplace of True Conservatism.” (Photo by Jay Paul)
Mallory McCune’s battle began with defeat.
In the late 1990s, when she was just a little girl, the land next to her grandfather Karl Williams' property was sold for residential development.
“This was his little slice of paradise,” McCune says, standing next to Williams’ farmhouse on Darbytown Road. Williams did everything he could to save it. He offered to buy the land. He fought the development in court. He created bumper stickers that said, “Varina: Demand Controlled Growth.”
And he lost. Today, houses crowd the old homestead.
Williams died in 2006. But one monument to his resolve remains. On the property, facing the road amid young soybean sprouts, is a massive, Virginia-shaped stone. Williams had it carved with the words “Varina — since 1611 — Birthplace of True Conservatism.”
“You couldn’t move it if you tried,” McCune says.
McCune has inherited her grandfather’s resolve. The 24-year-old has become an ardent defender of Varina’s rural character in the face of suburban encroachment. “It’s not that anyone is anti-development for Varina,” she says. “It’s sustainable development. Preserving what’s historic, preserving what’s beautiful.”
“She is passionate and authentic in her defense of the value of these landscapes,” says Nicole Anderson Ellis, founder and co-chair of the Route 5 Corridor Coalition. When McCune began working with the coalition in 2014, she astonished Anderson Ellis with her intimate knowledge of the area. She knew almost every piece of land, its owner and its history. “I think she really models the value of roots — how they can make a person feel a sense of place and belonging,” Anderson Ellis says.
McCune’s roots extend almost as far back as Varina itself. Her father’s people, the McCunes, are descended from the Mosbys and Pearces. Land on Pearces Creek has been in the family since the mid-1700s. On Pearces Creek Lane, just off Route 5 near the 895 interchange, stands the house built by McCune’s paternal grandfather, John Howard McCune. The story of its construction is family lore: When the old house caught fire, McCune’s grandfather “came home, saw it was burning down, slammed his truck door, got to Lowe’s and started working,” McCune says. Her family cemetery, which dates to the early 1800s, is tucked beneath the trees.
Adjacent to the 9-acre property where McCune’s ancestors rest is Wilton on the James, a long-stalled planned development of 3,200 houses. “I remember when I was in third grade, sitting on the porch and thinking about a highway coming down this driveway. And it was terrifying,” McCune says.
In 2008, when McCune was in high school, a friend’s mother invited her to the public comment meetings for the proposed 2026 Henrico County Comprehensive Plan. It was amazing, she says, to see Varina citizens come from all over to speak about the land they love.
One thing everyone agrees on is that Varina is special. “It’s not suburban. It’s rural-slash-urban,” Anderson Ellis explains. Just minutes from downtown Richmond are sweeping farm fields, historic houses and stunning river views. Cyclists pedal along the recently completed Virginia Capital Trail to Williamsburg. Route 5, Varina’s main artery, is one of the oldest roads in the United States.
But when a place is special, everyone wants a piece of it. Varina has long been threatened by development. Seven years ago, the county put forth a Route 5 Corridor Study that proposed turning bucolic Route 5 into a four-lane divided highway. The coalition — a joint venture of groups including Preservation Virginia, Scenic Virginia, the Partnership for Smarter Growth and the James River Association — mobilized residents to fight back, and the proposal was shelved.
The coalition continues to advocate for thoughtful and limited development in the area. “We don’t want Richmond to be a city wedged between two Short Pumps, when it could be wedged between Short Pump and Tuscany,” Anderson Ellis says.
Now, Henrico is launching a new project: a Route 5 Corridor/Marion Hill study that will, the county says, “evaluate the existing character of both focus areas and offer recommended guidelines for use in future review of development proposals.” The county invites comments from residents via a public engagement portal and survey.
McCune is glad the county is actively seeking the community’s opinions, although, she says, many in Varina remain suspicious: “They jump to the conclusion that something bad’s going to happen because of what’s happened in the past.”
Mallory stops to chat with fellow Varina residents Raymond Stephenson and Agnes Knowles. (Photo by Jay Paul)
As a member of the coalition’s leadership team, as well as in her work as Varina magisterial chair for the Henrico County Republican Committee, McCune reaches out to the people she knows — the farmers and retirees, the neighbors and friends — to tell them about what’s going on. To remind them that they have a voice.
McCune’s beginning law school at the University of Richmond in the fall, hoping to learn land use and zoning law. Her dream, she says, is to someday live in the Pearces Creek house her grandfather built. Would she ever leave Varina?
“I could not,” she says.
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