By O’Connor Daniel | Reporter

On 11th Street, where rows of sorority houses stretch toward Baylor’s campus and students come and go each year, one home has quietly and resiliently stayed the same.

That home belongs to the Bryant family — the last multigenerational family living on the block.

Leonard Bryant, known around the neighborhood as Mr. Leo, takes care of his mother, Bernice, who’s lived in the same small white house since 1966.

When she first moved in, it was a neighborhood of families: front porches, children tossing footballs in the street and church on Sundays.

“Everybody was nice and quiet and everything,” she said. “I guess that’s one reason the Lord sent me over here, because people were nice over here. But as time passed, Baylor just came further and further up this way.”

Now, the neighborhood looks different. The old houses have been torn down, replaced by student rentals and boxy apartments built fast and cheap. But the Bryants’ home remains.

“One time, a guy came to my house and said, ‘Would you like to sell?’ And I said, ‘No. If I wanted to sell, I’d put a for sale sign out there,’” she said. “I knew they just wanted to buy it to knock it down and build more buildings.”

Bernice Bryant was born in June 1935 and grew up in Big Spring. She was one of seven kids, and her mother called her “Baby Sis.” Her mother required her to attend church every Sunday, where she first started playing piano.

“Me and my sister, we just loved the piano,” she said. “Every time we got to church, we would run to the piano. But back then, we didn’t have money to take music lessons. But I guess that if you have a gift, it still stays with you if you want it to.”

Today, she still plays every Sunday at Waco Sovereign Grace Baptist Church, where she also sings.

“My mama was always sending us to Sunday school and she’d make our little hand-sewn jackets,” she said. “We couldn’t afford lots of clothes, but my mom could sew. We didn’t know we was poor. We were blessed to have a family that wanted to do right and treat people right.”

After her husband was killed in a car accident in 1966, Bernice moved from Big Spring to Waco with her seven children. Her youngest, Lulu, was two years old at the time. There, in the 11th Street house, Bernice raised her children.

“I had all those kids and my brother-in-law helped us to move here,” she said. “We just had a lot of help back then. People were different back then. People cared more. Now people don’t have time. Everybody is so busy.”

Inside the living room, framed photos cover the coffee table, some new, some sun-faded with time. On one wall, a picture of Bernice’s neighbors from next door — a group of Baylor girls from a home they call “Pigpen” hangs beside her family portraits.

“We are used to all the college kids growing up here and moving out,” she said.

Her son, Leonard, left Waco after high school and spent 40 years away before returning home in 2019.

“11th Street is home,” he said. “I always say Mom is the mother of 11th Street. This is the last home on the block.”

Coming back was hard, he said.

“It was all new,” he said. “I don’t know nobody but family. It’s all different. A lot of my friends moved away.”

He said he remembers when 11th Street was full of families.

“We used to play football on the block with all the kids,” he said. “This is home.”

His black pickup truck parked out front is his trademark — like the Bat Signal, some neighbors say. Students know they’re safe when it’s there.

“As neighbors, we look after each other,” he said. “You see something that’s not normal, you step up and say something. Just treat everyone good.”

He remembered the night Baylor won the national championship with a laugh.

“It was wild,” he said. “Out on the yard was full of kids. They were burning stuff — mattresses in the middle of the street. The cops and fire department were letting it all happen. People were everywhere.”

Every fall, new students move in. Every spring, they move out. But the Bryants stay. Their house remains as a reminder of what 11th Street used to be.

“It’s different because we know there’s always rotating people coming in,” Leonard said. “We just hope that the next people will be as good as the ones who just left.”

He said their home represents a constant sense of place — a beauty and connection to family, to Waco, and to a past that has endured as everything around it changes.

“It’s a part of life, moving out,” he said. “Life changes, but you hope for the best. The main thing is enjoy yourself and like what you do, and you won’t be at work — you’ll just be living life.”