Updated: July. 8, 2026, 4:17 p.m. | Published: July. 2, 2026, 5:50 a.m.
Sandy Ground is the nation’s oldest free Black settlement continuously inhabited by descendants. Advance Local Express Desk
By Amanda Faublas | afaublas@siadvance.com
EDITOR’S NOTE
This story is part of an ongoing journalistic initiative to rally the community and the country around a critical, but endangered, historical site: Sandy Ground, the nation’s oldest free Black settlement still inhabited by descendants of its pioneers.
STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. — Long before subdivisions spread across Staten Island’s South Shore, before fences carved up backyards and traffic filled once‑quiet roads, generations of the Cooper family — all descendants of one of Sandy Ground’s founding lineages — remember a different neighborhood, one that felt like a single home.
Children ran freely through wooded paths, climbed towering trees and moved from yard to yard without hesitation. Front doors stayed open. Everybody knew everyone. And most importantly, everyone looked out for each other.
“We had a very good childhood,” recalled Cheryl Cooper, one of several Cooper descendants who gathered recently at the historic Rossville A.M.E. Zion Church to reflect on their shared history.
“Most of the families that lived around here were family to each other. We grew up being together, looking out for each other, playing all day long,” she added.
For the Cooper family — spanning siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews across multiple generations — Sandy Ground is not just a historic district. It is a living legacy, deeply personal and generational.

A village in every sense
Sandy Ground, the nation’s oldest continuously inhabited free Black settlement, was founded in the 1820s by gardeners; in the 1850s, oystermen from Maryland, drawn by the rich oyster beds of the Raritan Bay, swelled its ranks.
At the heart of that world stood the home of John and Sadie Cooper, the family’s central figures and common ancestors for many of those gathered.
“Their door was always open,” said Elmira John, another Cooper descendant. “Didn’t matter if you were a brother, sister, cousin, niece, nephew or somebody from down the street. …You were always welcome in their house.”
Sadie Cooper, relatives said, was more than a grandmother to her direct lineage. She became a grandmother figure to the entire Sandy Ground community.
“Any kids in the community were her kids,” said descendant Elmira John. “She showed the same kindness and love toward everyone.”
Many of those sharing stories described growing up not just as relatives, but collectively as part of one extended family network shaped by the same ancestors, traditions and values.
There were no fences, no boundaries — just community.
“You ran in anybody’s yard,” descendant Sabina Luck recalled. “Nobody yelled at you. We picked cherries at one house and blackberries at another.”
Cooper Family Roots
For the Cooper family, ancestry is not just a matter of records; it is something carried through shared memory.
“The oldest one I remember hearing about is Granny Roach,” said Elmira John. “Whenever we went to my grandmother’s house, we had to go upstairs and speak to her. You had to show respect.”
Granny Roach, who lived with Sadie Cooper, represented an even older generation — one that bridged the gap between oral storytelling and lived experience.
The family’s roots stretch even further south to Virginia.
Family members believe their ancestors were formerly enslaved people who later migrated north, eventually settling in Sandy Ground.
“I was told my grandfather came from Virginia, possibly a runaway slave,” said Sabina Luck.
Today, some family members have begun researching genealogy records in an effort to trace those connections more clearly.
Despite those gaps, what remains certain is that the Cooper family is part of the original group of Black settlers who helped establish Sandy Ground as a free Black community in the 19th century.
“We came up here and made a thriving community, a functional, striving community. We had farming, we had oysters, we had strawberry fields,” said descendant Ralph Cooper. “We were making it work.”
Building something from nothing
The Cooper descendants say their ancestors helped shape a thriving settlement despite systemic barriers.
“They gave this land to us because it was worthless,” said Ralph Cooper. “They couldn’t farm it. There was nothing they could do with it.”
“It was sand,” added Cheryl Cooper. “That’s why we got the name Sandy Ground.”
That resilience carried forward through generations, including entrepreneurship.
Sadie and John Cooper ran a grocery store, planting early seeds for a family tradition of business ownership that extended to their descendants.

Cooper’s Tavern
That entrepreneurial spirit eventually led to one of Sandy Ground’s most well-known establishments: Cooper’s Tavern.
Operated by the Cooper brothers, Melvin, Elmer, Ralph and Kenny, the tavern became a popular South Shore gathering place during the 1970s.
“It was one of the hot spots out here,” recalled Ralph Cooper.
The building itself stood out — a weathered, rustic structure that many described as unlike anything else on Staten Island.
“It looked like one of those Western movies,” said Cheryl Cooper.
Others remembered its creaky stairs, dim lighting and unusual charm.
“It was kind of spooky, like Halloween,” said descendant Darren Ganzy.
But its reputation wasn’t built on appearance — it was built on atmosphere.
“It wasn’t about Black and white,” Ralph Cooper said. “It was about having a nice time, going to a place and enjoying the atmosphere and the good company that was there. That was one of the things that we learned in Sandy Ground… we’re a community.”
The tavern became a gathering place for softball teams, neighbors and visitors from across Staten Island.
“We didn’t have problems there,” said Ralph Cooper. “Everybody came with respect and everybody left with respect.”
The tavern, however, met a sudden and devastating end in the late 1970s when, according to family members, a patron involved in a dispute was thrown out and later returned to set the building on fire.
Because the tavern stood on city-owned property leased by the family, it was never rebuilt.
“It financially couldn’t happen,” said Ralph Cooper.
Though the structure is gone, its legacy remains central to the Cooper family history.

The fire that changed everything
The family’s story is also defined by loss and resilience.
In 1963, a massive brush fire swept through Sandy Ground, destroying roughly 100 homes and reshaping the community forever.
“My house — we lost our house,” Cheryl Cooper recalled. “That was tragic.”
She remembered being a child when her mother sent her and her siblings to their grandmother’s nearby home just before the fire spread.
“Next thing I knew, the brush fire started,” she said.
Fueled by dense wooded areas, the flames moved quickly across the neighborhood.
“It got so bad that the brush fires were just hitting every spot they could,” Cheryl Cooper said. “At one point, we were literally stuck in this fire that surrounded the whole area.”
“We had to get escorted out by police officers in order to actually save our lives,” she added.
The destruction left lasting consequences.
“A lot of people never had the chance to come back here and rebuild because a lot of it wasn’t insured,” explained Ralph Cooper.
The community, descendants say, never fully recovered.
“It really did a lot of damage,” said Vickie Cooper Taylor. “Not only to the community, but also to the church.”
Still, there were moments of survival and strength. Family members recalled a relative who used a garden hose to protect nearby homes, slowing the fire’s spread. Others noted how the historic church miraculously escaped damage.
“It just bypassed the church like it wasn’t supposed to be touched,” added Vickie Cooper Taylor.
Holding on to history
Despite decades of change, Sandy Ground remains central to the Cooper family’s identity.
The Rossville AME Zion Church continues to serve as a gathering place for worship, reunions, barbecues and Family Day celebrations that bring descendants back together.
During summers, children once attended free church-run camps in the basement, where volunteers organized activities, plays and community events. Today, many descendants still return regularly.

d I still come here every Sunday,” Elmira John said. “These are my roots. This is where I was born and raised. This is my home.”
But as development continues to reshape Staten Island’s South Shore, family members worry that the history of Sandy Ground is not widely known or taught.
“It’s important for us to make sure that we leave a lasting statement that we were here,” said Ralph Cooper. “And that we’ll continue to be here long after we’re gone.”“I live in New Jersey an
Preservation efforts
Rossville AME Zion Church is seeking support for several restoration and preservation projects, including replacing unsafe rear steps, repairing the deteriorating facade, and upgrading aging interior features. The congregation also hopes to restore the historic Baymen’s Cottages as educational spaces.
Donations supporting the church’s preservation can be made by visiting rossvilleamezionny.org/giving and select “other,” then note “preservation and restoration” in the donation designation.
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