RECIPE FOR HAPPINESS
Health scare prompts attorney to swap law books for baking tools
One hundred years ago, Black men and women thrived in small towns and big cities. They owned land, homes, new cars and businesses. But they were preyed upon, killed and run out of town. In 1920, July Perry, a prominent and successful Black farmer and labor broker, dared to register fellow Blacks to vote and was lynched for his actions during the Ocoee Massacre. In this ongoing photo essay, we take a look at the differences between Black business owners from decades ago with those of today. Their triumphs, struggles, dreams and hopes are interwoven by their experiences and spirit.
At seven years old, Victoria Robinson-Wilson aspired to become a lawyer, a goal that became a reality through hard work and persistence. Thirty years later, after earning five degrees, she landed her dream job as an attorney. However, in 2010, 26 weeks pregnant with her second child, she was admitted to the ICU at Winnie Palmer Hospital, where her cardiologist, Dr. Ronald Domescek, told her that her lungs were filled with fluid and her heart was functioning at only 25% capacity. He predicted that she would die by the same time the following day.
This health scare, followed by a threat to her life by a man she prosecuted, led her to make a radical change in her career.
Robinson-Wilson now owns Simply Homemade 1913, a bakery in downtown Sanford. She stopped practicing law when she opened the bakery in November 2020. Robinson-Wilson said, “more women, minority women, are exiting the grind of the 9-to-5 for the peaceful flexibility of owning their own bakeries. All across the U.S., minority women — and a few men — are putting their family recipes and homegrown skills in baking to use by creating a more realistic balance of family and career.”
The 598-square-foot bakery shop is quaint and the smells emanating from the baked goods are mouth-watering. The display case holds the day’s freshly baked items, with more than 40 flavors of bundt cakes, blueberry and apple cobbler pies and homemade banana pudding. There’s a large monitor with brightly colored photographs of her signature dessert items scrolling on the wall. Near a coffee station, a sign announces a discount available to members of the military, Seminole County teachers, active PTA and PTSA members and city workers.
Giving back is part of Robinson-Wilson’s nature: There’s a Cake It Forward board, so those in need do not have to leave without a delicious homemade dessert. She also has provided a $500 scholarship to a fulltime college student.
Her mother left school with a sixth-grade education and cooked and cleaned for others. “My dad was a third-generation brick mason in South Carolina. He is also a full-time pastor,” said Robinson-Wilson, still speaking of her father in the present tense though he died in 2014. “My dad was also a Black Panther and played football for Morse Brown College.”
“People see the Victoria with the five degrees, they see the Victoria who went to a private school, and they see the Victoria who has an education,” she says. “They don’t see the Victoria who grew up in a three-bedroom, two-bath house, with seven kids.”
When Robinson-Wilson opened her bakery, she said that she knew it would be difficult. On multiple occasions people left chicken bones at her front door.
“Fifty years ago, Black bakers were more present in our communities,” said Robinson-Wilson. “Grandma and Big Momma provided the holiday and church event goods. In the early 1970s, Black bakers may not have been as present in our commercial establishments, but our recipes were. They were stolen and capitalized upon without any royalties ever being paid.”
Thirteen years ago, as her mother sat next to her bed in the hospital, Robinson-Wilson asked for her father. Her mother told her he would not make it. He had gone into the closet to pray stating, “God will be God, and he will be God.”
Her longtime OB/GYN specialist decided she would like to deliver her 26-week-old son to give her body a better chance of living.
“I want to do what’s best for my baby, not me,” Robinson-Wilson recalled saying. They injected her with steroids to help develop the baby’s lungs. She says she was given an epidural but the anesthesiologist never checked to make sure her body was numb and she could feel the cesarean cut across her stomach. “My screams were muffled because my tears had filled my ears.” The doctor shouted, “put her under,” and that was the last thing she remembered.
When she awoke after two days, Robinson-Wilson said, “I remember my mom sitting there, and she was praying over me, and I said, ‘What are you doing?’ ”
“My mom stood up and said, ‘thank you, Jesus, thank you, Jesus,’ and started crying.
“Where is the baby?” Robinson-Wilson asked. The newborn, who weighed 3 pounds, 9 ounces, was in the neonatal intensive care unit and was fine.
Dr. Domescek later walked in and said to her mom, “Tell your husband I don’t know who he’s praying to but keep praying. Because this is my miracle patient. She should not be here.”
The little Black girl that had a dream to be a lawyer remembers, “I was never taught to quit.”