Categories
News

Scattered history: The city’s 74 historic properties piece together our past

The city of Charlottesville wasn’t incorporated until 1888, but people are recorded as living in the region as far back as 1612, when English explorer John Smith encountered a Monacan village and documented it on the very first map of Virginia.

The Native Americans gradually left as European immigrants moved in, relying on the Three Notch’d Road trade route that stretched from the Appalachian Mountains to Richmond. From there, Charlottesville grew from a small collection of settlers into the city it is today.

In addition to the local landmarks identified by the National Park Service as historical places, Charlottesville recognizes 74 individually protected properties that each contain a history that tells a chapter of our town’s story.

While the full list can be found online at the city’s website, here are 11 places that played important roles in shaping Charlottesville into the city it is today.

Woolen Mills Chapel

(1819 E. Market St.)

Dating back to the very beginnings of Charlottesville, Woolen Mills was one of the first communities to develop into a neighborhood. Several wool mills operated there as far back as 1795, but the most prominent one was situated on the east side of town; built in the 1840s, it was the workplace of most of the surrounding residents.

The mill was burned down by Union troops in 1864, but owner Henry Clay Marchant rebuilt it in a year. The wool industry became one of Albemarle County’s most successful, further expanding the surrounding neighborhood. This mill in particular specialized in making cloth for uniforms.

In 1886, a religious movement made its way through Charlottesville, prompting the mill workers to build a non-denominational chapel for their community. It was finished just in time for Christmas in 1887, before being formally consecrated on May 13, 1888. An addition was built to accommodate Sunday school classes in 1908, but the building hasn’t received any other alterations since.

The chapel represents a classic 19th-century church design, featuring tall, arching gothic doors and carved-wood pews on either side of the main aisle. Its most prominent feature is a 50-foot bell tower shaped like an octagon with green shingles.

The church remained non-denominational until 1956, when it was taken over by the Pentecostal Holiness Congregation. The Christian parish held onto it through 1964 before handing it over to the Calvary Baptist Church, which still uses it today. It was also around that time when the original woolen mill closed for good, but by that point the neighborhood had developed into much more than a community of mill workers. It will start its latest chapter next year, when local tech company WillowTree opens a new headquarters in the former mill, which will also house an events space, coffee and wine shop, and brewery.

Photo: Skyclad Aerial

C&O Coal Tower

(133-155 Carlton Rd.)

As with many Southern cities, it’s impossible to talk about the growth of Charlottesville without discussing the impact of the railroad. On June 27, 1850, the city was changed forever when the first coal train arrived, quickly making Charlottesville one of the biggest transportation hubs in Virginia.

The train station was burned down by Union troops during the Civil War, but rebuilt in 1870, opening its doors for the Chesapeake & Ohio line with the coal industry booming like never before.

By 1905, the original wooden structure was replaced by a brick station with prominent white columns out front. The coal tower next to it—also made of wood—was used until 1942, when a 91-foot concrete tower with a coal capacity of 300 tons was installed.

But as diesel trains began to replace steam engines in the mid-20th century, use of the station began to decline. Amtrak ditched the station altogether in 1979, opting to run its trains through Union Station across town instead. Commercial trains took a similar route three years later. In 1986, the coal tower closed its doors.

The station has since been demolished, but the tower is considered a significant local landmark—although it has developed a checkered history. The tower witnessed both a double homicide and an apparent suicide during the early 2000s, and has often been a gathering place for drug users.

C&O Row, an expensive townhome development, has since taken over the surrounding land, and in 2018 the Charlottesville Board of Architectural Review approved plans to create a pocket park around the tower,  complete with a covered patio and bocce court. But construction on that project—and the rehabilitation of the tower in general—has yet to begin. Meanwhile, the coal tower remains, reminding local residents of both the high and low points that took place there over the past 150 years.

Staff photo.

Jefferson School

(233 Fourth St. NW)

Opened in 1926, Jefferson High was the first high school for African Americans in Charlottesville—and only the 10th in Virginia.

The original Jefferson School, established in 1869 to educate former slaves, was a single room in the Delevan Hotel on West Main Street. It eventually expanded to grades K-8, and the Jefferson Colored Graded School was constructed at Fourth and Commerce streets (the site is now part of the parking lot of the current Jefferson School). In 1924, parents and community leaders petitioned the school board to add a high school for black students.   

Jefferson High School underwent significant renovations from 1938-39. A library and courtyard were added, part of an expansion project paid for with Public Works Administration funds.

When Jackson P. Burley High School opened in 1951 to serve African American students in both the city and the county, Jefferson High became an elementary school (the neighboring Jefferson Graded School building was demolished in 1959). As schools across the state began to integrate, attendance at the Jefferson School—despite undergoing further expansion in the late 1950s and switching to a junior high school in the ’60s—began to wane.

From 1975-1982, the Jefferson School functioned as a “swing school,” providing classrooms and facilities for other local schools in the area while they underwent renovations. In 2004, a city-appointed commission recommended that the site be used to honor Charlottesville’s African American history, leading to a nine-year process that resulted in the opening of the Jefferson School City Center.

Today the school is home to the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center as well as Carver Recreation Center and nine other nonprofit organizations.

The Elijah Thomas House. Staff photo.

Tyree Thomas
and Elijah Thomas Houses

(406/410 Dice St.)

In one of the first early land purchases by an African American in Charlottesville, Tyree Thomas bought a three-quarter-acre lot in 1871—eight years after the Emancipation Proclamation. He built a house on the land three years later and sold part of it to his brother, Elijah. The structures on each of their properties laid the foundation for what is now the Fifeville and Tonsler Neighborhoods Historic District.

Both Tyree and Elijah were listed as “servants” in the 1880 census while Tyree’s wife, Lavinia, was described as “keeping house.” Although there are no official records of Tyree’s death or burial, Charlottesville’s Neighborhood Development Services estimates he died around 1898. Lavinia occupied the house with her children until the 1910s. The 1920 census places her in Philadelphia, where she lived until she died in 1932.

The Tyree Thomas House has since been used as both a private residence and rental property. It’s now in the hands of local residents Victoria Fort and Dylan McKenzie, who in 2018 submitted a Certificate of Appropriateness application for exterior renovation of nine different aspects of the house. The Board of Architectural Review unanimously approved the motion and the project, which is considered to be a long-term endeavor.

Staff photo.

Benjamin Tonsler House

(327 Sixth St. SW)

Benjamin Tonsler was born into slavery on April 2, 1854, in Albemarle County, and became a prominent educator and community leader. After attending Hampton University, Tonsler returned to Charlottesville and taught at the Jefferson Graded School, where he served as principal for nearly 30 years. Tonsler also surreptitiously tutored older students after hours, helping prepare them for college at a time when there were no local public high schools for African American students.

In the late 1870s, Tonsler purchased land on Sixth Street and built a home there, just a few years after Tyree Thomas built his. He spent 38 years there before leaving it to his family upon his death in 1917. The Tonsler family owned the land until 1983, when it was sold to Curtis Morton Jr.

Morton “put a lot of time and energy into the house,” according to a C-VILLE Weekly story from June 2019. But when it ended up in the hands of current owners Ryan Rooney and Kevin Badke, in 2016, Rooney said “the inside was extremely distressed, and we felt at risk of actually collapsing.”

The renovation progressed slowly, and the house appeared neglected for several years. Following the publication of the C-VILLE story, however, it received more attention. The front porch has now been refurbished and overgrown landscaping trimmed back.

City Preservation Manager Jeff Werner says “people seem to be pleased” about the state of the house now that it’s been cleaned up.

Staff photo.

Coca-Cola Bottling Works

(722 Preston Ave.)

One of the most recognizable landmarks in Charlottesville, the Coca-Cola bottling plant was built in 1939. The two-story red brick building was situated next to several houses, one of which was purchased in 1944 and used for 33 years as a home for employees.

Coca-Cola opened its original Charlottesville production plant in 1926, on 10th Street, in a building that was recently redeveloped into the Tenth Street Warehouses. As the economy picked up after the Great Depression, the soda maker needed a larger plant to accommodate demand and moved to Preston Avenue.

In 1941, its first year at the new plant, Coca-Cola produced 258,683 cases of its signature beverage. The facility’s distribution territory at the time included parts of Albemarle, Greene, Fluvanna, Louisa, Orange, and Madison counties, with a projected customer base of almost 100,000 people.

Coca-Cola used the property for production until 1973, when it was converted into a distribution center for a new Staunton bottling plant that is still used today. The building’s windows were bricked in during the early 1980s, but the facility was fully operational until 2010. That’s when the company, which only employed 42 people in Charlottesville by that point, decided to relocate to an area outside Richmond.

The building still has the iconic Coca-Cola logo emblazoned across the side, but it now houses Kardinal Hall, along with the UVA Licensing & Ventures Group, Blue Ridge Cyclery, and an energy development firm. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2013.

Skyclad Aerial

Monticello Dairy Building

(946 Grady Ave.)

The Dairy Central project that lawmakers have touted since it was first announced in 2017 is in full swing, eyeing a completion date in 2020 that will give the property that once housed a milk processing plant new life and an increased role in the city’s development.

The history behind the prominent building at the intersection of 10th Street and Grady Avenue began in 1912, when the Monticello Ice Cream Company sold its first scoop. The business didn’t have a set location, instead serving as the region’s first unofficial ice cream “truck,” delivering the frozen dessert around the area via horse and buggy.

When the Monticello Ice Cream Company expanded its business in the 1930s, it rebranded itself as Monticello Dairy and commissioned local architect Elmer Burruss to construct a production plant. The project was finished in 1937 and cemented the dairy company as one of the largest employers in town.

Burruss’ lasting legacy, however, was the large ice cream parlor and event room on the property, which developed into a popular gathering place for local residents. Several additions were made to the building in the 1940s and ’50s, creating space that was eventually leased out to other businesses.

The building and surrounding 4.3-acre property were sold in 2017 for almost $12 million, paving the way for the $80 million Dairy Central project that’s currently underway. While the building itself is being maintained and the original brick and tile refurbished, the rest of the property is undergoing a complete facelift, which owners hope will re-establish it as a community hub.

The development will include a food hall, Dairy Market, that’s expected to house 18 vendors including Angelic’s Kitchen and Eleva Coffee, along with a new home for Starr Hill Brewery. It will also have 180 apartments (15 of which will be affordable units) and office space.

Staff photo.

Barringer Mansion

(1404 Jefferson Park Ave.)

Perhaps the most exquisite property on the entire list of IPPs is Barringer Mansion, former home of Dr. Paul Barringer. A UVA professor experienced as a scientist, physician, and publisher, Barringer purchased the land in 1895 for five-and-a-half shares of stock valued at $1,375. The mansion was built a year later, proving to be one of the most impressive sights in Charlottesville.

Constructed in Queen Anne style, the house stood out with its pointed tower, white columns, and numerous chimneys. Barringer, who eventually rose to be the chairman of faculty—the equivalent to university president—at UVA, often instructed students there outside of class, and welcomed several high-profile guests including Theodore Roosevelt and William Jennings Bryan.

No one played a bigger role in establishing the hospital at UVA than Barringer, who had a wing named after him. But recently, questions have been raised over Barringer’s promotion of white supremacy, and last year UVA Health System said it would seek Board of Visitors approval to remove his name from the wing.

In an essay titled, “The American Negro: His Past and Future,” which he read at a 1900 medical convention in South Carolina, Barringer called the recently emancipated African American community “savage,” and insisted black people were helped by being enslaved.

The mansion was converted into an apartment complex after Barringer’s death in 1941, but the impressive exterior remained intact. UVA purchased the building in 1985, and it’s now home to the French House, which is the university’s center for French cultural life.

Staff photo

Patterson Wing of Martha Jefferson Hospital

(459 Locust Ave.)

Until 1904, most medical visits and procedures in and around Charlottesville were held in patients’ homes. That’s when seven local doctors, one of whom was a great-great-great grandson of Thomas Jefferson, founded the nonprofit Martha Jefferson Hospital on East High Street. The facility had 25 beds and cost a little more than $8,000.

The hospital remained there until local benefactor James Addison Patterson and his wife Georgianna donated $100,000 for it to expand and relocate to Locust Avenue. Although it opened with just 50 beds, the hospital went on to serve the Charlottesville community in that location for 82 years. It expanded to a 116-bed capacity in 1954 with a new maternity ward and X-ray department, and experienced steady growth into the 1990s.

In 2001, the nonprofit hospital, seeking to expand, purchased 84 acres at Peter Jefferson Place in Pantops—although it didn’t officially move out for another 10 years. The main hospital building and surrounding campus were sold to the Charlottesville-based development company Octagon Partners for $6.5 million in 2010 ahead of the relocation.

The property was rebuilt and leased out as office space, but the Patterson Wing, named after the hospital’s early patrons, still exists. It’s now home to the CFA Institute, an investment company. Corporate officials told The Daily Progress in 2014 that the building’s original hardwood and terrazzo floors were preserved, as were its signature arched hallways and nine-foot ceilings.

Staff photo

Monticello Wine Company House

(212 Wine St.)

The event that kickstarted Charlottesville’s journey to becoming a renowned wine location occurred in 1873, when the Monticello Wine Company was established to provide local vineyards with a buyer for their grapes and produce what the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society calls “pure and healthful, low-alcohol table wines of medium grade.”

Led by German wine cellar supervisor Adolph Russow, those expectations were quickly surpassed. The four-story facility’s most popular product was called “Extra Virginia Claret,” a red wine globally recognized after receiving awards at the 1876 Vienna Exposition and the 1878 Paris World’s Fair.

Despite being a farming cooperative rather than a privately owned business, the Monticello Wine Company grew into the largest winery in the South by 1890; the winery had a 200,000 gallon production capacity thanks in part to the 3,000 acres of vineyards in the surrounding area.

It wasn’t long before the Charlottesville region began calling itself the “capital of the wine belt in Virginia.” According to the historical marker placed at the site, its wine was even used to christen the Navy battleship USS Virginia in 1904.

But signs of trouble began in 1887, when local grape production was slowed by the spread of black rot across Charlottesville-area vineyards. The Monticello Wine Company was forced to import its grapes from other states, and increased competition from California wineries only slowed business further.

Virginia’s statewide prohibition law in 1916 forced the company to cease production altogether. The building remained a storage facility even after the alcohol ban was lifted in 1933, eventually burning down in a fire in 1937. Russow’s home, which sits next to the site, still stands today.

Categories
Abode Magazines

Landmark maker: Architect Stanhope Johnson’s local legacy

Stanhope Spencer Johnson doesn’t pop to the top of the list for most architectural historians, but the Lynchburg-based designer was remarkably prolific in his seven-decade career, and some of his better work—including two buildings on the National Register of Historic Places—can be found in Charlottesville. No one knows Johnson’s work better than our own Carolyn Gills Frasier, whose exhaustively researched book, Stanhope, Chronologically, came out late last year and would make a solid addition to any architecture aficionado’s collection.

Stanhope, Chronologically: The Work of Stanhope Spencer Johnson, by Carolyn Gills Frasier, is available at New Dominion Bookshop on the Downtown Mall and at The Ivy Nursery.

Johnson (1881-1973) designed the Martha Jefferson Hospital and Gallison Hall, the Georgian Revival estate in Albemarle County. Both landed on the historic register, but the less famous but much more popular Monticello Hotel —now an apartment building at 500 Court St. —endeared the architect to local residents.

Also in the Georgian Revival style, it was built in less than a year—from groundbreaking on March 9, 1926, to completion on April 8, 1926. The opening of the nine-story limestone-and-brick building was greeted with fanfare. It removed a stigma that—with apologies to the Boar’s Head Resort—still haunts the city. “No longer will the community be rendered self-conscious by the repetition of the plaintive wail: ‘if there were only a real hotel in Charlottesville,’” a Daily Progress editorial declared.

The complaint rose from the fact that Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello had opened to the public three years earlier, in 1923, causing a flood of tourists with few places to stay. By the time the Monticello Hotel opened, visitors were arriving here by train (there were two stations downtown) and wealthier travelers by automobile. The fortunate ones stayed at Stanhope Johnson’s opulent hotel.

For a 1992 Daily Progress column, David A. Maurer tracked down Mary Cabell Somerville, a New Yorker who booked into the Monticello weeks after its debut. “It was wonderful, and if we wouldn’t have known better, we might have thought we were back in New York City,” she told the writer. “We registered and went up to our rooms and took a long, hot bath.”

The newspaper clipping was a pebble in the mountain of Frasier’s research, but she shared a copy with Abode—with obvious pride and a bright smile.

Johnson designed The Monticello Hotel, which opened in 1923 and is now the north downtown apartment building 500 Court Street. Photo: Courtesy Carolyn Gills Frasier

Categories
Arts

Past perspectives: New documentary collects stories from the Paramount’s segregated era

Lorenzo Dickerson is always chasing down stories that he heard as a kid. “Stories I heard who knows when,” he says, local stories he now feels compelled to share with local audiences. His fifth documentary film, 3rd Street: Best Seats in the House, tells one such story—that of the Third Street side entrance to The Paramount Theater, when the theater was (legally) segregated. Black moviegoers were forced to use a side entrance and sit in the balcony (though those seats offered the best view, local artist Frank Walker notes in the film).

A tour of the Paramount in fall 2017 sparked the idea. A guide mentioned that the theater wasn’t sure how to best tell the story of that entrance, but Dickerson knew immediately. He shot more than 20 hours of interviews with black Charlottesville and Albemarle County residents, and combed through interviews conducted by Jane Myers in 1995 that have sat, unused, in the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society archives. Dickerson’s film premieres at the Paramount on Thursday. In advance of the screening, he sat down with C-VILLE to talk about the film, and what he hopes it can accomplish.

C-VILLE: When did you first hear about the Third Street entrance?

Lorenzo Dickerson: As a child. My father loves westerns, and his favorite film of all time is a western, Shane. The first time he saw it was when my grandmother took him to the Paramount to see it. He was 6 years old or so. [He told me] that he went in through that entrance, sat in the balcony, and saw that film.

When you started the project, what was your idea for the film?

The initial idea was really for people to tell their stories. What was it like to use that entrance?…And also, what segregated spaces were like in Charlottesville in that time period: The Lafayette Theatre, the Jefferson [Theater], the Woolworths, Timberlake’s. The University Theater, where you couldn’t go at all.

How did you decide who to interview?

I was trying to find people who could tell different stories, not only about that segregated entrance but about what that experience was like. For my previous film, Albemarle’s Black Classrooms, I interviewed Marcha Howard about her going to and teaching at Burley [which was Charlottesville’s black high school during segregation]. During that interview, she mentioned going to the Paramount and looking over her shoulder into the balcony after it was desegregated, sitting in the bottom, feeling weird about that. I always had that in the back of my mind.

Bernice and Kenneth Mitchell tell their love story, how they would go on dates at the Paramount, and how Kenneth at one point passed for white. …Phil Jones talks about coming in from Albemarle County on the back of a dump truck with eight other people or so.

The Reverend Nate Brown—I’ve known him my entire life, and to me, he’s the greatest storyteller ever—he has [used] a wheelchair his whole life. And at a family funeral, I had this moment, like, “Whoa. If you were handicapped in any way, and African American, what would you do?” So I asked him. He never went, because he couldn’t.

It’s likely that these people will be familiar to the audience watching the film.

That was the point, really, for people we know to tell these stories. …I hope that by watching it and being in that space, that you would think of it differently as you leave the theater that evening. And the next time you go to any of the shows at the Paramount, that you may think about that space differently, [that it’s not] just a theater on the Downtown Mall.

Think about it differently how?

What did it feel like to be sitting there watching a film where you were forced to sit in the balcony due to Jim Crow, and you were never watching anyone that looked like you there on the screen? You may have gone to Timberlake’s to get ice cream before the movie—and you could purchase it. The person working there, or making the food, may have been African American. But then you had to come outside to eat it.

I’m hoping that people will really feel, even just for a moment, what that experience was like. To understand that the experience that we have now is nothing like the experience they had at that time. Billy Byers mentions that he didn’t know that the front door even existed. Or that there were seats under the balcony, because [up there], all you can see is what’s forward. Your experience is completely different if you’re African American. It’s not simply, “you’re sitting up here instead of sitting down here.” It’s a lot more to it than that.

What got cut from the film that you wish you could have kept in?

I was going to interview a [black] woman and her white friend, and the friend had some type of health stuff going on. But they were going to be on camera, together, talking about walking to the Paramount, together, as friends, then getting to the Paramount and having to go their separate ways. And then after the film, getting back together and walking back home.


Lorenzo Dickerson premieres his fifth documentary, “3rd Street: Best Seats in the House” Thursday, August 29 at the Paramount Theater

Categories
Arts

Hemings as heroine: Experimental opera explores the life of Jefferson’s mistress

The word “opera” sometimes comes with some preconceived notions attached. It might bring to mind complex stories fraught with drama and murder, created by long-dead composers. Unless you’re intimately familiar with the art form, it may also seem less than relevant to modern society, a type of entertainment that belongs to previous generations.

Such an assumption, however, would overlook Victory Hall Opera. Now in its fourth season, the Charlottesville-based company produces startlingly modern and experimental work, and productions that are locally resonant, as exemplified by the upcoming Sally on West Main, named for Sally Hemings, who was enslaved by—and likely mistress to—Thomas Jefferson.

VHO’s artistic director, Miriam Gordon- Stewart, says opera is generally “a very international industry,” but Victory Hall is determined to make it local. “All of our productions have some kind of tie to Charlottesville, and to some degree, to Charlottesville history.” Sally on West Main, which focuses on an “underexplored moment in Sally Hemings’ story, in which she left Monticello and moved downtown to West Main Street,” is no exception.

Gordon-Stewart says the work is told “through the lens of the people who have experienced its legacy—mainly black women in this country, and in this case, African American artists.” Although Hemings has recently come into the limelight, most of her story was not recorded. Historians are left to fill in the gaps, while artists are left to imagine what sort of person Hemings might have been. Gordon-Stewart says the African American artists in question “have, in some ways, the best chance of illuminating this character.”

One such artist is librettist and playwright Sandra Seaton, whose song cycle From the Diary of Sally Hemings—created nearly 20 years ago with composer William Bolcom—is a piece of the collage that is Sally on West Main.

The original libretto, essentially a musical exploration of Hemings’ life, was supposed to be no longer than 12 minutes, but it grew into a 45-minute song cycle—and that was just the start of Seaton’s unforeseen preoccupation with Hemings. After From the Diary of Sally Hemings was put to music by Bolcom and premiered in 2001, Seaton continued to research the enslaved woman’s largely forgotten life. “I just had a problem letting her go once I started thinking about her,” she says.

Two plays also resulted from Seaton’s research—Sally and A Bed Made in Heaven—both focusing on Hemings and both addressing the emergence of Jefferson and his mistress into public consideration and debate. Seaton says this relationship is largely what continues to draw her to Hemings, although she stresses that her work is as historically accurate as possible. “One thing I did not want to write was a bodice-ripper.”

Considering the renown Seaton’s work has received, it’s safe to say she’s avoided bodice-ripping status. Alyson Cambridge, a soprano opera singer and the star of Sally on West Main, would certainly agree. She first assumed the musical role of Hemings in 2009, when she recorded a performance of Seaton’s song cycle. After the album premiered in 2010, Cambridge reprised her role eight years later in Victory Hall’s pastiche opera Monticello Overheard. During this show, Gordon-Stewart approached Cambridge with the idea that would become Sally on West Main.

Assuming Hemings’ persona is no easy feat, but Cambridge says she feels such a performance is vital. “Race relations are still very much an issue…and I think that looking back at our history, examining it, having healthy and insightful dialogue about it, is really the only way to get to a way forward,” she says. “I think that’s a really wonderful thing to do, and I think doing it through music and a presentation of this nature is a great thing for Charlottesville.”

While Cambridge dives into the history of her role, Sally on West Main’s multimedia components provide a modern twist. Portions of Chris Farina’s locally renowned documentary West Main Street will be screened along with various projects by Marisa Williamson, another artist whose creations have been heavily influenced by what she calls the “spectral figure” of Hemings.

Williamson works largely with film, both behind the scenes and as an actor. Like Cambridge, she has also taken on the persona of Hemings—in 2013, Williamson visited Monticello dressed as Hemings and staged a “mock reenactment,” in which Hemings sang karaoke and dashed through the grounds. “I was doing unusual things and trying to raise the question of what it means to reclaim the space as someone who used to live there,” she says.

Some of these “reenactments” will be among her video contributions, but Williamson also plans to include unseen material—she says she has a wealth of unreleased footage. As she’s been for Seaton, Hemings has proven a continually fascinating and troubling artistic subject for the filmmaker. “I’m trying to make visible a past that has been suppressed,” Williamson says.

Although it’s difficult to imagine what exactly Sally on West Main will resemble, it’s seems certain that every artist involved shares Williamson’s mission statement. “I’m trying to make sense of what it means for Sally Hemings to live on in the present,” she says. “In the same way that Jefferson is so powerfully evoked or embodied everywhere you look in Charlottesville, I want to figure out what that looks like for Sally Hemings.”


See Sally on West Main at the LeRoi Moore Performance Hall at the Music Resource Center May 25.

Categories
News

History markers keep Charlottesville’s past alive

Categories
News

Not black and white: Lee statue evokes deep feelings on racial history

In its first listening session July 28, the City Council-appointed Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces heard from well over 100 citizens, who packed the African American Heritage Center at the Jefferson School to talk about Charlottesville’s painful history.

Their responses weren’t always clear-cut as far as the statue of Robert E. Lee was concerned, the call for the removal of which earlier this year led to the creation of the commission. Of the 38 speakers, 18 said they wanted to keep the statue, eight wanted it removed, some said they didn’t care and others wanted more acknowledgment of Charlottesville’s stories that haven’t been told.

“It looks like my whole history is in this room,” said Mary Carey, 70, who attended the segregated Jefferson School. She recalled going as a child to the McIntire Library, which borders Lee Park, and “having to sit on the edge while the white kids ran all around.”

Carey said she wanted people educated about Charlottesville history, and that she could live with the statue. “Do what you want,” she said. “I’ve already been humiliated by it when I was a little girl.”

Rose Hill resident Nancy Carpenter also didn’t care whether the statue stays or goes, but she did want to start the healing. “We really need to rip away the Band-Aid and move forward,” she said.

Civil rights attorney Jeff Fogel said the Civil War monuments are not accidents. “They’re a continuum of oppression of African-American people.” He said he wanted to know why the city doesn’t have blue ribbon commissions to talk about why 27 percent of the population is poor and black, why housing is segregated and why police stop blacks more than whites.

Several speakers were dismayed that the slave auction in Court Square was only commemorated by a small plaque on the ground. Others were concerned about the cost of removing the statues, and suggested the money could be better spent on education.

And still others were bothered about the message of removing the statues. Raymond Tindel, former registrar at the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago, noted ISIS and the Taliban’s destruction of antiquities.

“I found this horrible,” he said. “I did not expect to find the same situation here when I moved to Albemarle” because the area had a reputation of tolerance and inclusiveness. “You can’t gain a reputation for tolerance if you only tolerate the things you like,” he said. “Learn from it.”

“Do you know why the statue of Robert E. Lee is here?” asked Rob Elliott, who was wearing a cap with a Confederate flag emblem.

“To support white supremacy,” a woman’s voice interjected from the audience.

Elliott said Lee stopped Union General Ulysses Grant from coming from the west to burn Charlottesville, and added, “All lives matter. We need to let it go.”

Lewis Martin, who has accused City Council of stacking the commission with those in favor of removing the statue, took another tack, and pointed out that the statues of Confederate and Union soldiers erected by the generation after the Civil War bear striking similarities, and not just because they all came from the same company in Massachusetts.

People in the north also were putting up statues to honor their ancestors, he said. “Whether in Court Square or Zanesville, Ohio, the same words are there: honor, bravery. That’s why I don’t believe the statues in Lee Park were put up to oppress.”

The Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces heard from citizens July 28 at the Jefferson School, itself a reminder of Charlottesville’s segregated past. Photo Eze Amos
The Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces heard from citizens July 28 at the Jefferson School, itself a reminder of Charlottesville’s segregated past. Photo Eze Amos

The commission heard from 27 speakers in the first hour of the gathering, then broke the attendees into eight smaller groups for their ideas on four topics: what stories about Charlottesville should be told, what places need to be memorialized and what the statues of Lee and Stonewall Jackson in Court Square mean to individuals and what should be done about them.

For about an hour, the smaller groups rotated between topics as facilitators asked what they thought and recorders wrote their answers on large flip boards. City staff will compile the information on spreadsheets to see how many times an issue is mentioned, said commission chair Don Gathers.

“Once we put all of that together, we can make a reasonable judgment on the pulse of the city,” he said.

In between listening to comments from the smaller groups, commissioner Margaret O’Bryant, who is also librarian at the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society, said, “I’m impressed by the ingenuity of ideas for additional memorials and interpretations. A lot of people have a lot of good ideas.”

And for many, it seemed an opportunity to publicly talk about a painful topic. Dale McDonald compared Lee to Benedict Arnold. “He was a traitor to his country,” he said. “I would be glad to remove it myself.”

Uriah Fields, who helped organize the Montgomery bus boycott in 1955, agreed and said he would like to posthumously put Lee on trial. “I am for removing that statue because it represents slavery,” he said.

But for Charlottesville native Joan Burton, who says her ancestors were owned by Peter Jefferson and John Wayles and inherited by Thomas and Martha Jefferson, the history is important. “Although I’m disturbed by the statues, I don’t want them taken down,” she said. “Although I may have been resentful of Monticello, I want them to tell the story of the people who were there.”