At 9:45 a.m. on Saturday, the Grand Hall of the Missouri History Museum felt less like the lobby of a cultural institution and more like the opening mixer of a family reunion. In a way, it was. Dozens of guests exchanged greetings, shared embraces, and rekindled connections with people they hadn’t seen in decades. Conversations flowed easily as they reminisced, their anticipation building for the grand opening of “Mill Creek: Black Metropolis.”
The expansive exhibition, which honors the historically Black community once home to more than 20,000 residents in downtown St. Louis, opened November 15 and will remain on view through July 12, 2026.

Photos by Taylor Marrie | St. Louis American
“When you get inside, make sure you look at the blanket my mother crocheted for me,” said author Vivian Gibson, smiling warmly as she guided friends toward the entrance.
Gibson’s award-winning memoir, The Last Children of Mill Creek, helped spark renewed interest in the long-overlooked neighborhood. Through personal narrative, her book offered intimate portraits of families and lives that were reduced to a footnote in St. Louis history when Mill Creek was demolished in the late 1950s after being labeled a “slum.”
Through artifacts, photographs, and a comprehensive overview of Mill Creek Valley—its origins, cultural contributions, and generational legacy following its destruction—”Mill Creek: Black Metropolis” restores dignity to a community that shaped the city’s identity.
“Part of our work here at the Missouri Historical Society is to share the full St. Louis story,” said Sam Moore, managing director of public history. “And what all of you have demonstrated by being here this morning is that you support that mission. You believe that sharing the full St. Louis story means sharing the stories of all St. Louisans—and that is what we are going to do today.”
Moore described Mill Creek as a vibrant neighborhood, a center of Black life in St. Louis, and a community essential to the region’s history—yet largely forgotten.
“I hope that you will be as thrilled and engaged as I was when I went through the exhibition for the first time a few days ago,” he added, praising the work of curator Gwen Moore (no relation).
As she prepared to cut the ribbon, Gwen Moore was visibly moved by the support and love shown to the exhibition—and to the people it represents.
“One of the things I wanted to do with this exhibition was to restore the name of that community, which had been smeared,” said Moore, who serves as Curator of Urban Landscape and Community Identity. “To restore the good name of the people who built that community, who had been so demeaned and denigrated as slum dwellers.”
She recalled the heartbreak of reading newspaper clippings that misrepresented Mill Creek.
“We never had names; we never had faces. We just had that awful title,” she said. “I was thinking, ‘They are talking about my mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather, my relatives, my friends and everyone that I knew.’ That’s not the way I saw them. That’s not the way we saw each other.”
Early in the 5,000-square-foot exhibition, visitors encounter a striking juxtaposition. Two videos play within sight of each other.
One, a KTVI Public Affairs presentation from the early 1960s, refers to Mill Creek as an “open wound.” The short film depicts the neighborhood after demolition, describing the destruction of more than 460 acres as a “necessary outcome.”
Across the room, however, vibrant home movies show Mill Creek residents as they saw themselves—dressed to the nines, exuding joy, and celebrating life.
The contrast underscores the exhibition’s mission: to demonstrate the truth of the latter vision. Mill Creek was not a wound but a thriving ecosystem of Black excellence, where culture was created and history was made.
Guests stood shoulder to shoulder, taking in the displays. One walk-through was not enough. At its height, Mill Creek boasted hundreds of Black-owned businesses, dozens of churches, and several Black newspapers. It was a self-sustaining community that did for itself and for each other.
“I wish my uncle were here to see all this,” said Bill Young, nephew of St. Louis American founding publisher Judge Nathan B. Young. His words echoed sentiments expressed throughout the exhibition’s feedback wall.
Visitors left handwritten notes, many anonymous, all heartfelt. They spoke to the power of unity and resilience that Mill Creek embodied.

“This exhibit is a testament to what Black people are capable of doing when they come together as a community,” one note read. “It was very nice to learn that this community existed in St. Louis, but sad to know that it was destroyed because of hate. All people deserve a place to call home.”
The exhibition is more than a collection of artifacts—it is a living testament to family, legacy, and love. For many attendees, the opening felt like a reunion because Mill Creek was, and remains, family.
The destruction of Mill Creek Valley was a loss not only of homes but of a cultural heartbeat. Yet through exhibitions like Mill Creek: Black Metropolis, the community’s spirit endures.
And for many who gathered at the Missouri History Museum this past Saturday morning, Mill Creek was not simply history—it was home.
Living It content is produced with funding by the ARPA for the Arts grants program in partnership with the Regional Arts Commission of St. Louis and the Community Development Administration.

