SANFORD - Cindy Philemon has fond memories of growing up in this town. Kids bathed in tin tubs. Families bought food from Charlie at the old Tip-Top grocery store. People flocked from all over town to buy blocks of ice at the nearby ice house. In this neighborhood of Goldsboro, once a large incorporated all-black city before it was taken over by Sanford in 1911, rarely did Philemon cross over Lake Avenue to go into the white part of town. That's how it was. Each side kept to itself. But in the wake of the racially charged Trayvon Martin shooting, many black leaders here say they are conflicted because despite that segregated past, the town had made great strides in recent years to erase the image of Sanford as a racist town. In the past few years, the town has sought to rebrand itself as an artsy lakeside community attracting the young and hip to downtown restaurants and galleries and hosting monthly block parties. Residents of all colors fear the shooting, emotional rallies and hordes of reporters will stain the legacy of a town with a rich history, black and white. Just two falls ago, Philemon joined a mixed-race cast in Touch n Go, a community play that chronicled the historical lives of Sanford residents. "It was the first time something like that happened," said Philemon, 48, who has been active in rallies that call forMartin's shooter to be prosecuted. "It really brought us all together." Dr. Stephen Kendall Wright, a retired Seminole College professor of English and African-American studies, said he fears "this one event could wipe out our entire history." "I thought we were becoming less known as a hick town, outgrowing that old image," said Wright, a writer who founded the Gwendolyn Brooks Writers Association, dedicated to the Pulitzer Prize winning black poet who frequented Sanford. "When people talk about Sanford, I always thought it was rather sophisticated little town in many ways when it comes to race." City leaders are split on the legacy the Trayvon Martin shooting will have on Sanford. In an interview last week, the city's only black commissioner, Velma Williams, said this shooting has "caused us to retrogress 20 or 30 years" in race relations. Commissioner Randy Jones said he thinks the town's image will only take a brief beating. He scoffs when Sanford is compared to the towns that dominated the storylines of the 1960s civil rights movement. "People like (the Rev. Jesse) Jackson are throwing around Selma and Birmingham - and that's just not the case," he said. Twenty miles north of Orlando, Sanford is a town of about 50,000, with 30 percent black residents. Casual visitors know the town for the Orlando Sanford International Airport, the Seminole Towne Center mall and car dealerships. But over the past decade, city officials have poured more than $20 million into redeveloping the once-dilapidated downtown, the River Walk zone next to Lake Monroe and Fort Mellon Park-where many of the Martin rallies have been held. Florida pioneer Henry Sanford established the town on the south bank of Lake Monroe in 1877. Swedish settlers were among the first to populate the town and for most of its early existence, agriculture dominated local business, earning it the name "Celery City." Tensions between whites and blacks existed even then. Just west of downtown, railroad and dock workers established Goldsboro, the second town incorporated by blacks in Florida. For one decade, the town flourished, with its own post office, red-brick school and water wells. But in 1911, Sanford took over the town, changing street names and cheating Goldsboro leaders of more than $10,000 in fees associated with the annexation, something that still irks old-timers at the Goldsboro Historical Museum. The museum, a few blocks away from the Sanford police station, features everything from photos of Goldsboro pioneers and Sanford natives, such as Broadway performer Alton Lathrop, to a barber chair used for more than seven decades in the neighborhood. Museum director Francis Oliver acknowledges that although strong racial tensions existed decades ago, much of that has ebbed in recent years. Issues with police, however, have not subsided, she said. In 2010, police waited seven weeks to arrest a white lieutenant's son who was caught on video sucker-punching a homeless black man. In 2005, two white security guards - one the son of a longtime Sanford police officer and the other a department volunteer - killed a black man they said was trying to run them over. Black leaders complained of a lackluster investigation. The guards ultimately were acquitted. But Oliver said a black officer was arrested in November for allegedly stealing money from undocumented Hispanic men. "We don't have a racial problem in this city," she said. "We have a problem with police." The tension with police is compounded by a relatively high crime rate. Sanford police said the city had 945 burglaries in 2011, up from 871 in 2010. Many black residents, to reporters and at City Hall meetings, have been forceful in their depiction of police racial profiling and misconduct, something police Chief Bill Lee acknowledged in an interview before he stepped down. "This is very unsettling. The Police Department is definitely not going to be able to resolve the emotional conflict or racial tension in the community," said Lee, who is white and whose father ran a convenience store in Goldsboro. "That was my goal when I came here. There was turmoil in the department, and we were coming in with a fresh start."* * *FAST FACTS Sanford Population: 53,570 White: 57.3% Black: 30.5% Hispanic or Latino origin: 20.2% Median household income: $43,470 People below poverty level: 18.5% Median home value: $165,400 Source: U.S. Census Bureau