A: Hold your horses, Howard. Redesigning history is not part of City Council’s charter, and when one plaque departs another arrives—or so it would appear. Ace took a turn up Court Square way and, after dodging jackhammers and cement rollers, found himself in front of Number Nothing, Court Square. There, a plaque most certainly marks the spot of the former slave block. The marker is shiny and stamped with the City of Charlottesville’s imprint. Tourists in search of a little self-edification can even read a short paragraph of history explaining how the slave trade played out at Court Square, along with the typo: “Most free blacks became so before 1807 when it was illegal in Virginia to emancipated slaves without moving them out of the state.”
This naturally led Ace to wonder whether you, dear misinformed Howard, meant to ask, where did the old slave plaque go? The one that said simply, “Site of slave block” and matched similar plaques at Court Square (and elsewhere) that say things like “Site of 1st public library” or “Site of storehouse”? These plaques (Ace learned after a trip to the Albemarle-Charlottesville Historical Society) were part of our fair city’s bicentennial birthday blowout in 1962. As part of that illustrious birthday, the Civic League of Charlottesville planned a party for the people that included (along with a parade and—if we know our little ’burg at all—a little historic re-creation) an historic marker rampage. Civic leaguers ran around town slapping historic markers on every brick wall known to corsets, including at least four at Court Square alone.
But finding out when and why the 1962 slave plaque was replaced with a new one proved to be the real mystery. Tom Hughson, the contractor working on Court Square, knew nothing of it. Neither did City Engineer Tony Edwards, who was handed the reins to the project when City Planner Satyendra Huja retired at the end of June. Neither did the people working inside Number Nothing. Neither did the Historical Society. Neither did Maurice Jones, director of communications for the City, although he promised to continue looking into the matter. O.K., kids, who’s in charge, here? Phew!
But this is to be continued. Ace promises to get to the bottom of this matter before October, the magic month when the $2.3 million Court Square project wraps itself up with a big bow and quill-penned love letter to itself. But before that can happen Ace requests one thing: Will bureaucracy please stand up and take a bow?