Categories
News

Checking in

It’s been more than a year since statues began coming down in Charlottesville—where are they now?

Johnny Reb

In August 2020, the Albemarle County Board of Supervisors unanimously voted to take down Charlottesville’s first Confederate monument: a bronze statue of a Confederate soldier known as “Johnny Reb,” who stood outside the county courthouse for 111 years. That fall, the board decided to send the mass-produced “At Ready” statue to the Shenandoah Valley Battlefields Foundation, which planned to erect Johnny Reb, along with his two cannons and pile of cannonballs, on the Third Winchester Battlefield. The New Market-based organization has publicly opposed the removal of Civil War monuments, and installed its own new Confederate memorial in 2019.

Nearly two years later, the cannons now mark a battlefield artillery position—but the statue and cannonballs have yet to be put on public display.

“[The statue] will be re-erected in the coming months at its new permanent location,” SVBF CEO Keven Walker told C-VILLE in an email. “The final location for a monument that will utilize the stacked cannonball casting is being considered.”

According to the group’s proposal, the statue—re-dedicated as The Virginia Monument—will “mark the location where Virginia Troops fought and died for Virginia on that particular field,” while the cannonballs will “be used as a bronze element for a new stone monument [marking] the location where artillery played a decisive role in the outcome of the fighting.” A marker will also be installed near the rebel soldier, “relating the history of the monument itself and recognizing its significance and detailing its journey to the battlefield.”

Robert E. Lee

Five months after moving crews hauled off the infamous Robert E. Lee monument to a city storage facility in July, Charlottesville City Council donated the bronze statue to the Jefferson School African American Center, which plans to melt it down and use the bronze to create a new public artwork—but the project, called Swords Into Plowshares, could be brought to a halt. At a hearing in Charlottesville Circuit Court last week, Judge Paul M. Peatross ruled that a lawsuit filed against the City of Charlottesville and the Jefferson School by two organizations that bid on the statue—the Trevilian Station Battlefield Foundation and the Ratcliffe Foundation—could proceed. 

Peatross sustained the plaintiffs’ claim that the city does not have the authority to melt down the Lee statue due to a state code section forbidding localities from destroying war memorials. Last year, the Virginia Supreme Court ruled that the law did not apply to statues erected before 1997, but the code has since been amended to apply to all war memorials—regardless of when they were erected. Peatross also sustained two of the plaintiffs’ other claims: that the city violated the Freedom of Information Act during a December meeting regarding the awarding of the statue, and that the bidding process fell under the Virginia Procurement Act, allowing the plaintiffs to seek legal relief.

If they win the case, the plaintiffs—represented by the same attorneys as the Monument Fund, which sued the city for trying to remove the Lee and Jackson statues in 2017—want the Jefferson School to return the statue to the city, and for the bidding process to be redone, with the school barred from participating. A trial date has yet to be announced.

“We’ll continue the process of community engagement,” said Jefferson School Executive Director Andrea Douglas of Swords Into Plowshares in an email to C-VILLE. “We hope that people will participate in this step as it is as important as the outcome of the case to our goals.”

Stonewall Jackson

Unlike Lee, Charlottesville’s statue of Stonewall Jackson has been kicked out of the city and shipped to the other side of the country. In December, City Council voted to sell the bronze monument to LAXART, a Los Angeles-based nonprofit arts organization that plans to use it for a new exhibit titled MONUMENTS, featuring decommissioned Confederate statues paired with contemporary art pieces inspired by the historic relics.

According to LAXART’s proposal, the Jackson statue will be “the centerpiece” of the innovative exhibit, which is expected to open at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art next year.

Renowned Black artists including Ja’Tovia Gary, Torkwase Dyson, and Abigail Deville are slated to create contemporary artwork. Additionally, MONUMENTS will include public programming and educational materials, providing broader context.

In December, LAXART director Hamza Walker told the Baltimore Fishbowl that he was currently in discussions with six or seven municipalities, two colleges, a museum, and one family about borrowing Confederate monuments, and that he hoped to obtain around 16 statues in total. However, Walker has since faced some roadblocks—in December, the city of Baltimore declined to lend four monuments to the exhibit, and in January, the City Council of Charleston, South Carolina, held off on voting on Walker’s request due to a lawsuit.

Sacajawea, Lewis, and Clark

After City Council made a last-minute decision to remove the city’s statue of Sacajawea, Meriwether Lewis, and William Clark along with the Lee and Jackson monuments, the statue was immediately sent to the Lewis & Clark Exploratory Center in Darden Towe Park, which committed to working with Indigenous peoples to create a new exhibit properly contextualizing the statue.

Since then, the statue that depicts the Lemhi Shoshone interpreter in what many perceive as an offensive, cowering position has remained in limbo, sitting in storage at the center. In December, council held a meeting to vote on the center’s bid on the statue, but Executive Director Alexandria Searls requested the councilors hold off. Sacajawea’s descendants had made an amendment requesting permanent control over the statue, which Searls was unsure the center could legally grant and needed to be approved by its board of directors. No one had told the descendants they could not make last-minute changes to the legal document, explains Searls.

Later, Searls learned that the process of transferring the statue to the center had been done incorrectly, due to “a complete breakdown in communication.” Searls says she was told last year that the Albemarle County Board of Supervisors had agreed that the center—which is on land owned by the city and county—could take ownership of the statue, but a few weeks after council’s December meeting, the county’s legal counsel told her the board never took a formal vote.

The county now wants the center to set aside money for the potential removal of the statue from the park, in case it shuts down one day. Because she does not feel comfortable raising more money until the exhibit is officially approved—the center already has $70,000 in commitments from donors—Searls is currently looking into bonds and is waiting for the county to tell her its stipulations.

“The situation is now in the Board of Supervisors’ hands,” says Searls. “[It needs] to be solved in 2022 or else the money is not going to be ours.”

“No decisions have been made by, nor any proposals from the Board of Supervisors in relation to the Lewis, Clark, and Sacajawea Statue,” Albemarle Supervisor Donna Price told C-VILLE in an email. “I am also not aware of any particular timeline for this matter.”

The Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea statue was moved to Darden Towe Park’s Lewis and Clark Exploratory Center, where it remains in storage. Photo: Alexandria Searls

George Rogers Clark

Just one day after Charlottesville took down its racist monuments, the University of Virginia removed its George Rogers Clark statue, depicting Clark on horseback attacking unarmed Native Americans, with three white frontiersmen holding guns behind him. Clark, who was born in Albemarle County in 1752, perpetuated genocide against Indigenous peoples and stole their land during and after the Revolutionary War.

Beginning in September, a university committee—co-chaired by a citizen of the Monacan Nation and a UVA faculty member—consulted with representatives from 13 Native American tribes about the future of the statue, which remains in an undisclosed storage facility. 

“The University and the tribes discussed options to remake the park space where it once sat,” UVA spokesman Brian Coy told C-VILLE in an email. “UVA plans to engage a landscape architect with Indigenous landscape expertise for a proposal for the park redesign.”

In a report of recommendations for UVA President Jim Ryan, Virginian tribal leaders also urged the university to establish a formal tribal consultation policy; appoint tribal liaisons; dedicate an admissions office position for Native American recruitment and outreach; increase its Native American student and faculty population; give tuition waivers to citizens of Virginia tribes; develop a Native American law program and legal aid clinic; and offer a class on Virginian tribal history to all students and faculty.

The other monuments

The Confederate monuments in downtown Charlottesville and next to the Albemarle County courthouse have been the subject of controversy, litigation, and, of course, removal. In some neighboring counties, Confederate monuments still stand in front of the courthouses.
Source: The Historical Marker Database and the Southern Poverty Law Center
The Confederate monument at the Orange County courthouse sparked protest in March after a judge called for its removal.
By PlannerGuy/Wikipedia

Orange County 

“They fought for the right. They died for their country. Cherish their memory. Imitate their example,” reads the Confederate monument in front of the Orange County courthouse. Controversy over the monument swelled in late March, according to the Culpeper Star-Exponent, when Orange County Circuit Court Judge David B. Franzén called the statue “an obstruction to the proper administration of justice in Orange County,” in an email to Orange County leaders. That message prompted a fundraising email from Virginia State Senator Bryce Reeves, who joined a protest in support of the monument and called for Franzen to step down.

Nelson County

Erected in 1965 by the United Daughters of the Confederacy, the memorial stands near the courthouse in downtown Lovingston. Its inscription reads “In memory of the heroic Confederate Soldiers of Nelson County who served in the War Between the States, 1861-1865. Love makes memory eternal.”

Fluvanna County

Dedicated in 1901 “To the memory of the Confederate soldiers of Fluvanna County 1861-1865,” the memorial is on courthouse grounds in Palmyra.

Louisa County

Four years after the Confederate monument was dedicated in Palmyra, Louisa County dedicated its own monument “in memory of the courage, patriotism and devotion of the Confederate soldiers of Louisa County, 1861-1865.”

Categories
News

Take our time

Over the past month, Charlottesville’s Historic Resources Committee has met virtually with more than a dozen descendants of enslaved laborers, seeking their thoughts and ideas on how to best pay tribute to the thousands of people bought and sold in Court Square. Now, the committee plans to establish a formal timeline for the highly anticipated memorial, as well as request complete funding from the city.    

The thorough outreach and design process offers a worthwhile glimpse at the steps required to replace a public monument, a process that will become even more relevant as the city prepares to remove the Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson statues from city parks.

“There’s no hurry—these statues have been here for 100 years,” says committee member and University of Virginia professor Jalane Schmidt. “Let’s think carefully about how we want public space to look for the community.”

During a June 11 meeting, Schmidt summed up the input gathered from the three descendant engagement sessions about the Court Square space, emphasizing “the importance of the combination of memorialization with education.”

Descendants strongly recommended the memorial feature the words of people enslaved in Charlottesville, such as Maria Perkins and Fountain Hughes. In 1852, Perkins wrote a poignant letter to her husband Richard, who was owned by a different enslaver, alerting him that their son Albert had been sold to a slave trader. Fearing that she would soon be sold too, she urged Richard to convince his owner to buy her as soon as possible. 

Hughes—whose grandparents were enslaved by Thomas Jefferson—was freed in 1865 after the Civil War. He was one of several thousand formerly enslaved people interviewed by the Federal Writers’ Project in 1949. His account of the brutal realities of Black life, both during and after slavery, is among the few surviving sound recordings of formerly enslaved people.

“Enslaved people were humans and people first,” said descendant Diane Brown Townes, who joined in on the HRC meeting. “I would like that to become a running theme.”

Descendants suggested that the research conducted for the memorial could later be turned into an exhibition, like the Holsinger Portrait Project at UVA, which displayed a selection of the few hundred portraits of Black Charlottesville residents taken by photographer Rufus Holsinger during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Cultural events, historic reenactments, and educational tours could also be hosted at the new memorial site.

Those who attended the engagement sessions ultimately urged the city to erect a permanent memorial while public interest is still heightened.

“People are talking about it [and] interested in truth telling—let’s strike while the iron is hot,” said Schmidt. 

Still, “we have to be careful what we wish for or wish to see. It goes on in perpetuity,” warned Townes. “We want to be careful with the deliverance and not rush into anything.”

Following the impending removal of the Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson statues, multiple members suggested the memorial could be combined with the redesign of Market Street and Court Square Parks, and backed by funds set aside for the Blue Ribbon Commission on Race, Memorials, and Public Spaces.

“Is there a pressure for it to be where the former slave auction block was, or could it be perhaps in Court Square Park after this statue is gone?” asked member Dede Smith.

City Historic Preservation and Design Planner Jeff Werner urged the committee to determine the next steps in the planning process. Though the design process is getting underway, City Council has not yet officially set aside funding for a Court Square monument. “I’m just a little worried that there is an assumption that this committee has funding and is preparing to develop and design some sort of monument,” he said.

The committee agreed to pause its meetings with descendants while it works to establish a clear timeline for the memorial and secure funding from City Council. However, it plans to put up a form on the city’s website over the summer, allowing descendants to continue submitting their feedback. Descendant engagement sessions will resume after Labor Day, when the city begins holding in-person meetings again. 

“We just don’t want to keep asking people to come to meetings without us having something formal we are pursuing,” added Schmidt.

Reflecting on the descendant engagement process, Schmidt says it has been  “fulfilling” and “gratifying” so far, and sees it as a unique opportunity to make the city’s public spaces welcoming and inclusive of everyone. 

As the city thinks about what’s coming for other monument replacements, HRC member Sally Duncan hopes the city will continue to allow descendants of enslaved laborers take the lead. 

“Ultimately, City Council should not have the say for what goes in there,” says Duncan. “The Black community of Charlottesville should have the say in what goes in the place of those statues and what those parks should look like.”

Categories
News

Monuments men: It was never about a statue, say Landrieu and Bellamy

Former New Orleans mayor Mitch Landrieu and Charlottesville City Councilor Wes Bellamy have a lot in common. They’re both Southerners who, as elected officials, have gotten death threats for daring to say it’s time for Confederate monuments to go.

And they’ve both written books on the topic, which brought them to the same Jefferson School African American Heritage Center stage March 20 for the Virginia Festival of the Book.

Bellamy, who signaled he was going to run for a second term on City Council, talked about the toll his 2016 call to remove the statue of General Robert E. Lee has taken on him and his family. His therapist suggested he write about it, and he wrote what became Monumental: It Was Never about a Statue to tell his side of the story and get it off his chest, with little concern about whether it ever got published.

“Deep down I was hurting,” he says.

A lot of people blamed him for bringing white supremacists to Charlottesville, he says. He had to grow up publicly following what he calls “Tweetgate,” when earlier offensive tweets were unearthed and he lost his job with Albemarle schools. And there was the unrelenting stream of “vile” threats.

“If it was about a statue, people wouldn’t tell me they’re going to hang me from a tree or harm my wife and children,” he says.

Landrieu says he also got hate mail, typically in a white envelope with red ink, that his wife hid from him.

The statue issue is “about race in America,” he says. “It’s about institutional racism.”

Landrieu, who wrote In the Shadow of Statues: A White Southerner Confronts History, never thought too much about the Confederate monuments when he was growing up in the Big Easy. Then a friend, jazz musician Wynton Marsalis, “popped” him on the head and asked, “Have you looked at it from my perspective?”

In May 2017, Landrieu made a landmark speech about his decision to remove four Confederate statues. In Charlottesville, he referred to one of its points, a scenario in which an African American parent has to answer a child’s question about a statue of Lee, in which the girl asks, “Wasn’t that the side that wanted to keep me a slave?”

As Southerner and as a white man, Landrieu holds no truck with the “heritage not hate” argument often posited by Lost Cause adherents. He lists historic facts that some whites have a hard time with.

“The Confederacy was on the wrong side of humanity,” he says. The Civil War “was fought for the cause of slavery.” And that needs to be acknowledged to get to the point where the country can heal, he says.

Even though progress has been made, there are a lot of people in the country who are afraid and there’s a lot of dehumanization. “Donald Trump is not the cause of it but he’s an accelerant,” says Landrieu. “White nationalism and white supremacy are having a field day,”

Bellamy expounded on why he’s called on Governor Ralph Northam, “a personal friend,” to resign. “It’s not his place to believe he can lead a discussion about race and equity after what has transpired.”

The worst for Bellamy was the day after Northam apologized for wearing blackface, when he attempted to moonwalk. Northam didn’t understand how offensive and degrading minstrel shows are, says Bellamy. And when Northam followed the press conference by calling the first African slaves “indentured servants,” says Bellamy, “That shows me you don’t get it.”

He did suggest ways the governor could use his position and privilege to redeem himself: by funding “historically underfunded” black colleges, by reforming marijuana laws and the criminal justice system, and by talking to his conservative friends in the General Assembly “who block the legislation we need to move the statues.”

Those, notes Landrieu, are “institutional racism.”

While Landrieu called for having those painful conversations on race, Bellamy seemed talked out when such engagement results in no action. “You shed a couple of tears and you go home.” he says of those privileged to live in nice homes while most in poverty are black and don’t have the same luxuries. “That is not equity,” he says. “I’m the bad guy for saying that.”

Both men believe it’s necessary to repair the damage that’s been done by racism. “There can be no repair and reconciliation without the redistribution of resources,” says Bellamy. “If you mess something up, you fix it.”

He also touched on civility, which he describes as “almost synonymous with comfortable.” People were yelling at City Council meetings because they’ve been ignored for years and it was an expression of their rage, says Bellamy.

He thinks that’s had an effect. “We got your attention,” he says. More resources have been allocated to affordable housing and the county banned Confederate images in schools. “You think that came from being civil?” he asks. “Pffft.”

With the Democratic primary deadline looming March 28, Bellamy says he’s still debating whether to run again for City Council, but indicated he was likely to because to change policy, “the best way to do that is through elected office.”

 

Categories
Living

YOU Issue: Monuments to women: Why doesn’t Charlottesville have any?

“C’ville is awash with monuments. Why no statues to women besides a cowering Sacajawea (who happened to be pregnant but still led the white guys through the wilderness)?” – Donna Lucey

“We do have three statues of women, you know,” says former mayor Virginia Daugherty, her soft Southern voice a bit sly. She’s referring to Sacagawea, crouching at the foot of Lewis and Clark on West Main Street; an angel at the foot of the Jackson statue; and the head of an anonymous woman that appears, along with a man’s, on an abstract statue called “Family” in front of the old jail.

That’s what passes for female representation in Charlottesville’s dozens of monuments, from Homer and multiple likenesses of Thomas Jefferson scattered across Grounds at the University of Virginia, past explorers George Rogers Clark on University Avenue and Lewis and Clark on West Main, and over to the most prominent statues in town: Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and Johnny Reb.

“When you look around, you just think it’s not right, the way that it is,” says Daugherty.

So why hasn’t the city, which is 51.6 percent female, honored any women?

In part, this is a national problem. “Statues of women never get names,” notes journalist Kriston Capps in a CityLab story called “The Gender Gap in Public Sculpture.” “They’re archetypes, symbols, muses, forces.” Of the hundreds of statues in New York City and Washington, D.C., he writes, each city has just five statues that depict historic women. “There are 22 statues of men in Central Park alone, but not one (non-fictional) woman.”

The explanation has to do with who, historically, has commissioned the building of monuments, and for what reasons.

In Charlottesville, the story we tell through our most prominent public monuments was largely written by one man: Paul Goodloe McIntire. As a 5-year-old boy, McIntire reputedly shook his fist at Union troops as they marched past his house in 1865, marking the end of the Confederacy. Decades later, McIntire got his revenge by gifting the city a series of segregated parks and installing the now-infamous statue of Lee, along with Stonewall Jackson, Lewis and Clark, and George Rogers Clark. (McIntire himself is memorialized in a bust behind the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society).

On a recent chilly Saturday morning, roughly 50 people turned out for a Confederate monument tour led by Dr. Andrea Douglas, director of the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, and Dr. Jalane Schmidt, associate professor of religion at UVA.

Beginning at the barely legible plaque commemorating black history at the site where slaves were bought and sold, and ending at the graceful, imposing statue of Lee on his pedestal, Schmidt noted that our monuments show “whose history matters in the community.”

Defenders of our current Confederate monuments often express the desire to “preserve history.” But much of our local history is buried, Schmidt and Douglas said. Court Square Park, for instance, was once the site of a multiracial community called McKee’s Row. Fifty years before the more famous destruction of Vinegar Hill, McKee’s Row was demolished to make way for McIntire’s whites-only park, anchored by the statue of Stonewall Jackson. “You’d never know it,” Schmidt said. “You’re not supposed to know it.”

The Jackson statue, she also pointed out, was erected in 1921, the same year the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan was founded.

The Johnny Reb statue, one of hundreds of similar statues planted in front of courthouses throughout the South after the end of Reconstruction, was erected by the United Daughters of the Confederacy but paid for in part by city and county funds. Among those on the statue committee, said Schmidt, was the prosecutor who declined to charge anyone in the lynching of John Henry James, which was attended by 150 unmasked white men.   

“These are monuments to Jim Crow,” she said.

Other Southern cities have found ways to broadcast new values through their choice of monuments. “What they’ve done in Richmond is really great,” Daugherty says, referring to the way that city has balanced its boulevard of white male Confederate leaders with more recent monuments to female African American heroes like Maggie Walker, a teacher and the first African American woman to charter a bank, and Barbara Johns, who, as a high school student in Farmville, led a student strike to protest separate and unequal schools. Here in Charlottesville, she suggests, the city could recognize a local writer, like Amélie Rives or Julia Magruder, or an activist like Grace Tinsley or Otelia Love Jackson.

“There’s lots of good ideas,” Daugherty concludes. “I think it just takes a little organization.”

Some local women have been recognized in other ways—for instance, Jackson-Via Elementary in the city and Greer Elementary in the county are both named for female educators (Nannie Cox Jackson, Betty Davis Via, and Mary Carr Greer). And in 2011, UVA dedicated a memorial to Kitty Foster, a free black woman who worked as a laundress at the university. (A metal “shadow catcher” sculpture now demarcates the family’s graveyard.)

In 2009, after several protests, the city added a plaque to the Lewis and Clark statue commemorating Sacagawea’s contributions. Performance artist Jennifer Hoyt Tidwell, who organized a “theatrical protest” there in 2007 and started a petition that garnered 500 signatures, says the plaque was “a very minor concession to our protest,” and that she had hoped the city would make a bigger gesture.

As for new monuments to women, she says, “I would say I’m ignorant, like a lot of people, about what that would look like.”

But she’s not so sure about statues.    

“I think a living way where you have artists who are paid to keep these things alive,” she suggests. For instance, she and other female artists were commissioned by UVA last spring to perform pieces at the Lee and George Rogers Clark statues, in response to August 12.

“In terms of countering a lot of the male statues I guess it’s important,” she says of the idea of women monuments. “But putting a lot of land into memorializing people…I don’t know if that’s the way to go.”


While Jackson and Lee never set foot in Charlottesville, there are plenty of notable women who actually lived here whose stories are largely unknown. Here are just a few:

Nancy Astor

1. Nancy Astor Nancy Witcher Langhorne was born in Danville and moved, at age 13, to an estate in Albemarle County. After an early, unhappy marriage to socialite Robert Gould Shaw II, Nancy moved to England, married fellow expat Waldorf Astor, and became the first woman to serve in Parliament.

Sarah Patton Boyle

2. Sarah Patton Boyle Boyle was born on a former plantation in Albemarle County, the granddaughter of Confederate veterans. She attended the Corcoran School of Art, married, and raised two sons. As she got older, she began questioning the views she was raised with and became an outspoken advocate for desegregation, writing hundreds of articles and speeches for the cause, and drawing attention from both Martin Luther King, Jr., who mentioned her by name in his Letter from Birmingham Jail, and the Ku Klux Klan, which burned a cross on her yard. The first white person to serve on the board of Charlottesville’s NAACP, Boyle was later recognized by the city as a “Bridge Builder,” with her name on the Drewary Brown Bridge.

Frances Brand

3. Frances Brand An artist and activist once known around town as “the purple lady,” Brand was born at West Point and attained the rank of Army major, doing liaison and intelligence work. In later life she became an activist for peace, women’s rights, civil rights, and other causes. Her “First” series of paintings commemorate more than 150 notable but under-recognized local citizens, many of them women or African Americans. (The paintings were bought by the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society, but are not currently displayed, and were removed from the organization’s website after a recent redesign).

Queen Charlotte

4. Queen Charlotte There are two statues of Queen Charlotte in one of her other namesake cities, Charlotte, North Carolina, but none here in Charlottesville. Legend has it that the German monarch, who married the British “mad King George,” wrote a widely circulated anti-war letter to Prussian king Frederick the Great, and was committed to social welfare. But in recent years, especially after Meghan Markle’s wedding to Prince Harry, Queen Charlotte is perhaps best known for being (possibly) the first black British monarch.

Isabella Gibbons

5. Isabella Gibbons Born into slavery, Gibbons managed to learn to read and write, and taught her children to do so as well. After the Civil War, she established a school for freed blacks, earned her own diploma, and then taught in the newly established (segregated) public school system for more than 15 years.

Alice Carlotta Jackson

6. Alice Carlotta Jackson Jackson was the first African American to apply to UVA, in 1935. After earning a BA in English and taking additional courses at Smith College, Jackson applied to UVA for a master’s in French, which was not offered at any of the black colleges and universities in Virginia. The Board of Visitors denied her application, but it set off a series of public arguments, and the threat of a future lawsuit led the Virginia General Assembly to pass the Dovell Act, which paid qualified black students the additional money required to attend schools out of state. Jackson used her grant money to earn a master’s degree from Columbia University, and taught at a Florida college for 45 years.

Grace Tinsley

7. Grace Tinsley Tinsely was the first African American woman elected to the Charlottesville School Board. “[She] used her voice on the board to make sure that people were treated fairly,” her daughter told Charlottesville Tomorrow. She was also the first nurse to work at Charlottesville High School. After her retirement, Tinsley successfully lobbied to establish a public defender’s office in Charlottesville. The Charlottesville Democratic Party named a scholarship in her honor, which is awarded to Charlottesville High School seniors from low- or middle-income households, and her name is on the Drewary Brown Memorial Bridge.

Amélie Rives Troubetzkoy

8. Amélie Rives Troubetzkoy The goddaughter of Robert E. Lee, Rives was born in Richmond and grew up at Castle Hill, in Albemarle County. She began writing as a young girl, and her bestselling first novel scandalized many for its portrayal of a woman who experienced sexual feelings. She went on to write more novels and, later, Broadway plays. After divorcing her first husband, she married Prince Pierre Troubetzkoy, an artist and aristocrat, and the couple moved back to Rives’ childhood home.

Categories
News

Both Richmond and Charlottesville eye the future of their Confederate monuments

By Alexa Nash

Richmond, Virginia, was once the powerhouse of the South as the largest capital of the Confederate States of America. Today, one of the city’s most affluent streets, Monument Avenue, is home to five statues commemorating Civil War leadership—and one statue added more than 60 years after to honor Richmond native and tennis hero Arthur Ashe. The city faces big questions as its mayor, Levar Stoney, recently reversed course on his support of removing and/or relocating the Confederate statues. The commission he formed to study the city’s monuments and the act of contextualization is on hiatus until October following a September protest around Richmond’s Lee statue. In looking toward Charlottesville, where protests have erupted because City Council voted to move the statues of Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, are there any concrete answers on how to confront a past filled with slavery and racism in creating a solid future?

History vs. heritage

Richmond’s monument history begins with the Robert E. Lee statue, conceived after Lee’s death in 1870. The 61-foot statue with four granite pillars and a marble base was erected in 1890 after funding from private sources fell through. The General Assembly passed an act to create a Governor’s Board to lead the commemoration efforts, and the $52,000 statue was slated for Monument Avenue to increase property values, according to the Virginia Historical Society. It was erected by black laborers and dedicated in front of 100,000 to 150,000 people.

Two other Confederate monuments, those of General J.E.B Stuart and the president of the Confederacy, Jefferson Davis, were erected within four days of each other in 1907. General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson’s statue was unveiled in 1919, and the statue of Confederate States Navy commander Matthew Fontaine Maury was erected in 1929.

According to a list of data of public spaces and symbols dedicated to the Confederacy, approximately a quarter of those spaces in Virginia and across the country, including schools, streets, monuments, plaques and other memorabilia, were dedicated between 1900 and 1918. This time period aligns with the Jim Crow law era of the South and the Plessy v. Ferguson “separate but equal” ruling in 1896, which all stemmed from a Louisiana law that separated blacks and whites on railroads in 1890: the same year Robert E. Lee made his memorialized appearance in Richmond.

The most recent statue to go up in the Monument Avenue median is that of African-American tennis star and Richmonder Arthur Ashe. It was erected in 1996, 67 years after Maury’s statue. Ashe is the only African-American memorialized on the grassy lawn, and according to the Monument Avenue Commission, the addition sparked heated conversations beginning in 1993 about the appropriateness of him being remembered just down the street from five prominent Confederate leaders.

Conversations about the morality of the monuments and talks of removing them catapulted into the public eye again in 2015 when Black Lives Matter was spray painted onto the Jefferson Davis monument. Richmond police arrested Joseph Weindl, after they found him starting to spray paint “loser” on the monument the following night. Fast-forward to the past few months when, between vandalism, such as pine tar thrown on the J.E.B Stuart monument, and demonstrations, such as regular pro-Confederate flaggers around the monuments, Stoney set out to take control of the Monument Avenue conversation. (The latest spotlight on the monuments was the September 16 pro-Confederate rally that brought fewer than a dozen pro-Confederates, who were vastly outnumbered by counterprotesters. There were seven arrests and no injuries reported.) Stoney formed the Monument Avenue Commission, a group of historians, artists, authors, professors and public leaders, to discuss how to add context to the monuments, including discussing adding more monuments to the grassy median.

“Monument Avenue was a real estate development that began with the Lee statue…and it succeeded—as a development venture and in fabricating the Lost Cause ideology as truth,” Stoney said in his first commission statement. “In fact, it was nostalgia masquerading as history.”

The commission held its first public meeting August 9, and commentary from the community lasted for two hours. Opinions ran the gamut, from supporting contextualization to removing the statues to leaving them in place with no additions. Speakers were met with heckling and shouting for having different viewpoints.

The second commission meeting, originally set for September 13, was postponed until October due to safety concerns, after the events of August 12 in Charlottesville.

This impacted Stoney’s goals for the commission, and he reversed his opinion on removing or relocating the statues, effective August 16, according to a press release. Jim Nolan, the mayor’s press secretary, said the next public meeting will be a work session to plan for future community engagement, and there will be no public comment.

Future efforts

A recent push to pass a resolution to remove all of the Confederate statues on Monument Avenue by 9th District City Councilman Michael Jones was assigned to the Land Use Committee September 25, but he says he does not yet have the support of his colleagues. Jones says he will not “play the political game” of convincing the council to vote yes, but he will continue his cause.

“We can’t be afraid to have a conversation about this,” Jones says. “Since it’s been so volatile, there’s a greater conversation that needs to be had.”

Dr. Gregory Smithers, Virginia Commonwealth University professor of history, says he favors the removal of the statues.

“Yes, we need to understand the Civil War and its role in reshaping the nation, but we shouldn’t do that to the exclusion of other critical historical events and people who weren’t white, male, [or] took part in military engagements,” Smithers said. He also said that the timing of the erection of the statues—the time of Jim Crow laws, lynching and when Civil War soldiers were dying—contributed to the Lost Cause mentality and “Northern aggression.” According to a report from Governor Terry McAuliffe’s Monuments Work Group from 2016, 168 war memorials currently stand in Virginia, with 81 percent dedicated to the Confederate participants in the Civil War. 

“In other words, Confederate monuments represent a conscious effort to rewrite American history, replacing it with the fictions of Southern heritage and the cultural and political myths of the Lost Cause,” Smithers says.

Contextualization, Smithers says, won’t work—because of the monuments’ location in Richmond’s busiest areas plaques won’t be sufficient. Relocating them to cemeteries, he says, would be a more appropriate place for their purpose of memorializing the Confederacy.

A statue of Maggie Walker, a Richmond native and the first female bank owner in the United States, was unveiled in July in Jackson Ward, a historically African-American neighborhood. Photo by Ash Daniel

In addition, new memorials are being placed throughout the city. Richmond native Maggie Walker, the first female bank owner in the United States and a civil rights activist, was memorialized in July in Jackson Ward, a historically African-American neighborhood. She was welcomed warmly by the community as an example of resilience, and Stoney said at the unveiling event that it was his favorite monument in the city.

The latest tribute slated for Richmond in 2019, as voted on by the state’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Commission, is the commemoration of emancipation memorial featuring 10 prominent African-Americans, which will be erected on Brown’s Island. It will memorialize Nat Turner, the leader of a violent slave rebellion in southern Virginia, and Gabriel Prosser, who unsuccessfully attempted to lead a slave revolt in Richmond, as well as Mary Elizabeth Bowser, Dred Scott, William Harvey Carney, John Mercer Langston, Reverend Wyatt Tee Walker, Lucy F. Simms, Rosa Dixon Bowser and John Mitchell Jr. The General Assembly has earmarked $500,000 for that statue, with the remaining $300,000 coming from private donations.


Monument Avenue timeline

Robert E. Lee

The 61-foot monument was conceived after the general’s death in 1870, and erected May 29, 1890. The original location was to be Hollywood Cemetery, but Lee was moved to Monument Avenue to increase real estate value and tax revenue. The General Assembly passed legislation to combine funding efforts, totaling $52,000. The statue was erected by African-American laborers and dedicated in front of 100,000 to 150,000 people. The neighborhood was called the Lee District until 1907. It was the base for a pro-Confederate rally September 16.

General J.E.B. Stuart

A resolution by City Council kickstarted the monument after Stuart’s death. It was erected May 30, 1907, at the intersection of Monument Avenue and Lombardy Street. Its original planned location was Capitol Square, but it was moved after the Board of Aldermen donated $20,000 to put it “anywhere but Capitol Square,” according to information from the Monument Avenue Commission. The base was vandalized with pine tar in late August 2017.

Jefferson Davis

Conceived 10 days after the death of the president of the Confederacy on December 21, 1889, the monument was erected four days after Stuart. Its original location was slated to be Monroe Park, then Broad Street. It was erected on Monument Avenue at the former Civil War Star Fort site after remaining funding was raised by the United Daughters of the Confederacy. The monument was spray painted with “Black Lives Matter” in 2015  and is a gathering site for pro-monument supporters and counterprotesters. 

Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson

The 37-foot-tall monument was erected right after World War I, with fundraising lead by Mary Anna Jackson, the general’s widow, and the United Daughters of the Confederacy. The 1919 unveiling was attended by high-profile faces such as then-Virginia governor Westmoreland Davis, the Jackson family and Robert E. Lee’s grandson. School children, Virginia Military Institute cadets and Virginia National Guardsmen also attended.

Matthew Fontaine Maury

The inspiration for the allegorical monument of the Confederate Naval officer came from a Richmonder who saw Maury memorialized in Hamburg, Germany, and suggested the city to do the same. Confederate sympathizer Katherine Stiles lobbied the public with pamphlets of her memories of the Civil War. The General Assembly contributed $10,000; the City of Richmond $10,000; Virginia school children $2,000 and the United Daughters of the Confederacy $5,000. It was completed and dedicated in 1929.

Arthur Ashe

The nationally acclaimed tennis star and Richmonder was memorialized in 1996. Spearheaded by the Arthur Ashe Monument Committee after his death in 1993, the sculpture by Paul DiPasquale was discussed with Ashe in 1992. Ashe is the only African-American honored on Monument Avenue, and this was not without controversy. Some welcomed the statue, and others questioned his presence among Confederate leadership, which is an ongoing discussion. 

Information from the Monument Avenue Commission and the Virginia Historical Society


Our city eyes contextualization in the form of additional memorials, plaques

By Michelle Delgado

Although they are now shrouded, Charlottesville’s statues of Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson remain at the center of a larger debate over the role monuments and memorials play in Charlottesville.

The events of August 12 added renewed urgency to conversations about how Charlottesville’s landscape commemorates its history and represents its values—and how the tension between old ways of life and new ways of thinking can be channeled into productive dialogue. As the legal battle over whether the Confederate statues can stay marches on, plans to bring new memorials to Charlottesville offer a glimpse of what the city’s landscape may increasingly look like in the future.

The two Confederate statues were donated to the community by Paul Goodloe McIntire, whose presence continues to permeate Charlottesville through an annual award given out by the Charlottesville Regional Chamber of Commerce, as well as at both the business school and amphitheater, which bear his name, on the University of Virginia’s Grounds.

Despite these positive contributions, McIntire’s decision to commission statues of two Confederate generals who did not visit Charlottesville during the Civil War came during a time of racial terrorism waged against black communities in the South. Although he built parks intended for the city’s black community, McIntire also intended for the parks to remain segregated. Like Thomas Jefferson, he was a product of his time, complicating the current debate over the statues’ meaning.

Part of the legal battle over whether the statues can be removed hinges on whether they are considered war memorials or works of art.

Charles “Buddy” Weber arrived in Charlottesville as an undergraduate at UVA in 1964, and returned for law school in 1993. Twenty years later, he ran for City Council as a Republican and has been involved in public life ever since.

As a veteran of the Navy, Weber worries that removing statues of war figures could become a precedent for removing other statues commemorating unpopular wars such as Vietnam. The idea that Confederate statues are protected war memorials is at the heart of the Monument Fund’s lawsuit, led by Weber, against the city, regarding its February vote to move the Robert E. Lee statue.

But with scars from August 12 still fresh, the legality of that decision is still being debated. In 1998, the General Assembly passed a law restricting the movement of war memorials. That statute, along with the original law against removing war memorials passed in 1904, is currently under scrutiny, with Attorney General Mark Herring recently advising that the 1998 statute cannot be applied retroactively.

But some are not convinced that the Confederate statues can be considered war memorials. Jalane Schmidt, a religious studies professor and historian at University of Virginia, says McIntire originally described his donation as “works of art.”

Like many opponents of removing the statues, Weber is also concerned that the rule of law is being eroded in favor of “interest groups.”

“If our elected officials exercise their political will in violation of that law, we are in danger of losing America,” he says.   

Nonetheless, Weber says that his current position is dictated by his interpretation of the current laws. If the law changed, his opinion might, too.

“There are deeper grievances,” he said. “A statue is just a symbol, not where the real grievances lie. It’s a diversion now.”

History lessons

Charlottesville’s culture of placing importance on history creates both common ground and significant differences of opinion. For some, the statues themselves represent history that should be respected. For others, the statues represent a crucial opportunity to discuss where historic narratives have been incomplete.

As executive director of the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, Andrea Douglas is dedicated to sparking conversations about the history of Charlottesville. Unlike Weber, she believes that the statues should be placed in a museum, both to signify their value as tools for understanding history and to remove them from public spaces where they serve as symbols that no longer appropriately convey Charlottesville’s values.

“What I find difficult about the conversation here is that people believe that history is not ongoing,” Douglas says. “If we believed that we could not change history, then we would be all sitting around here drinking tea under British rule.”

Margaret O’Bryant is the librarian and head of reference resources at the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society. Although the violent events of August 12 are still rippling through the community, O’Bryant feels that the statues were not directly responsible.

“I don’t think that the decisions made without our community [and] beyond our community should control what our community [decides],” she says.

One solution she has considered takes inspiration from the now-defunct Piedmont Council for the Arts’ Art in Place campaign, with temporary installations honoring notable community members, including those who have been historically overlooked. Controversial statues would only be on display for a short time, while popular statues could potentially become permanent fixtures, she says.

In 2016, City Council convened a Blue Ribbon Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces, which met for six months and ultimately recommended the city move both Confederate statues of Lee and Jackson or keep them in place and provide context (both Douglas and O’Bryant served on the commission). Schmidt provided historical context and background to the group.

In her research from the digital archives maintained by the Virginia Foundation for Humanities, she learned that the narrative of Confederate defeat known by most Charlottesville residents—that unlike the Virginia Military Institute or the University of Mississippi, the University of Virginia was spared in a gentlemanly and peaceful agreement—was missing some crucial elements. As she delved deeper, she says a different image of that time began to emerge.

Talk of creating a memorial to the enslaved laborers at UVA began in 2011, when a student group proposed a tribute to those who were forced to work at UVA for the first four decades of the university’s history. After winning support from the administration, the memorial is slated for completion in time for UVA’s bicentennial in 2019. Rendering courtesy Howeller + Yoon

When the Union Army reclaimed Charlottesville and Albemarle County in 1865, more than 50 percent of the population was African-American, the vast majority still enslaved. The 1860 Census showed that 13,916 enslaved African-Americans, as well as 606 free African-Americans, lived in Albemarle County, and those numbers held true throughout the Civil War. By comparison, just more than 12,000 members of the county’s population were white.

As the Civil War ravaged the United States, racial tensions flared in Charlottesville. Between 1862 and 1864, nearly 1,000 enslaved African-Americans were forced into the Confederate effort, and in the days leading up to the Confederate surrender on March 3, 1865, Schmidt found primary sources in which university faculty paternalistically complained that their “misguided, wretched” slaves were escaping to freedom and taking livestock for the United States forces.

“When you rearticulate these conversations, you create multiple ways of entering a dialogue about America and how Charlottesville was founded,” says Douglas, who points out that the Emancipation Proclamation ended slavery in 1863, two years before Charlottesville was retaken by the United States Army.

“Did it free enslaved people?” asks Douglas. “No, they freed themselves. If you give people agency, it’s not the same narrative.”

Adding to the narrative

Frank Dukes is a professor of urban and environmental planning at UVA, as well as an active member of University and Community Action for Racial Equity, made up of university students and faculty and community members who discuss ways in which UVA’s history with slavery and segregation can be addressed and repair harms associated with that legacy. In recent years, he has seen change sparked by President Teresa Sullivan’s four-year-old Commission on Slavery and the University, which has recently renewed research into UVA’s history of slavery and eugenics.

In September, Dukes (who also served on the Blue Ribbon Commission) presented City Council with the idea of a lynching memorial, and points out that the lynching occurred at a demographic tipping point in Albemarle history.

“After 1890, blacks were no longer the majority here,” says Dukes, in part due to the rash of lynchings and other forms of racial terror that erupted across the South.

On July 12, 1898, John Henry James, an African-American Charlottesville resident, was accused of rape and arrested. While he was being transported to the Charlottesville jail, a mob of approximately 150 people seized him from the train that was carrying him.

The scene quickly escalated into violence. Without a trial to determine his guilt or innocence, James was hanged to death from a tree near the Ivy Depot. As was customary at the time, his body was also mutilated by more than 40 gunshots and his clothing and body parts were distributed among the crowd as souvenirs.

In 2018, the Equal Justice Initiative plans to open a Memorial to Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. The memorial will feature individual floating concrete columns commemorating each victim of more than 4,000 lynchings in America between 1877 and 1950. A duplicate column will be prepared for placement in the county where the lynching occurred, and Albermarle is one of those 800 counties. Courtesy Equal Justice Initiative

In 2015, the Equal Justice Initiative released a landmark report on the national history of lynching. The study uncovered more than 4,000 lynchings that occurred between 1877 and 1950, adding several hundred events to the existing historical record.

In 2018, EJI plans to open a museum and memorial in Montgomery, Alabama, to create a space for the public to interact with their findings. The Memorial to Peace and Justice will be constructed on six acres, with individual floating concrete columns commemorating each lynching victim.

For each column within the memorial, a duplicate column will be prepared for placement in the county where the lynching occurred. Albemarle is among 800 counties that were the sites of violent lynchings during the Reconstruction and Jim Crow eras.

A petition on Change.org is nearing 50 percent support for a lynching memorial to be placed near the courthouse, which currently hosts the Stonewall Jackson statue, providing additional historical context as a counter narrative to Lost Cause mythology. An additional marker could be placed near Ivy Depot, where the lynching occurred.

In September, Dukes (who also served on the Blue Ribbon Commission) presented City Council with the idea of a lynching memorial, and points out that the lynching occurred at a demographic tipping point in Albemarle history. Photo by Dan Addison

There are other plans to add context to Charlottesville’s landscape. Charlottesville’s Historic Resources Committee has been preparing a new series of nine markers that will offer a more complete narrative about Court Square.

One of the proposed markers will provide an overview of its history, with eight additional markers adding context to specific locations including taverns, hotels and commercial buildings. The text that will be on display is currently being finalized, with the goal of installing the new markers as early in 2018 as possible.

Additionally, the committee is working to create a new marker for Court Square that will identify the location of the auction block where enslaved men and women were once sold. The marker currently on display was previously built into the side of a building that once housed a 19th-century auction house, until the building’s owners had it relocated to an inconspicuous spot in the sidewalk.

“People have objected that it’s not prominent enough,” says O’Bryant. “Even people looking for it don’t always find it.”

Although there is no official date for the auction block marker’s installation, the new marker will provide more information than the current plaque. The Historic Resources Committee also plans to install the new marker vertically and closer to eye level to increase its visibility.

Rewriting history

Beyond signs and statues, Charlottesville has other options for sparking conversations about the city’s history. This spring marked the first celebration of Liberation and Emancipation Day, commemorating March 3, 1865, when the city was surrendered to the United States Union Army.

Following the surrender, as the United States army razed a textile mill (in the neighborhood that would later be named Woolen Mills) and destroyed a nearby bridge, Albemarle County was awash with jubilation as formerly enslaved African-Americans celebrated their freedom.

“They said things like, ‘I prayed and prayed that you would arrive, and now you’re here. Glory to god!’” says Schmidt, recalling primary sources from the VFH archive.

Schmidt’s academic work has focused on the importance of festivals and celebrations in culture.

“Festivals are a way to remember history, celebrate it and mark our values,” she says. “What better way to mark our values than to celebrate with these 14,000 people?”

The celebration was especially striking given that in 2015, the city moved to end Lee-Jackson Day, an annual state holiday celebrating the two Confederate generals whose statues are at the heart of the debate in Charlottesville.

“Take that to its logical conclusion,” Schmidt says. “You’ve already said that they’re not worthy of being celebrated.”

As executive director of the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, Andrea Douglas is dedicated to sparking conversations about the history of Charlottesville. Photo by Eze Amos

The festivities were centered around a church service at the University Chapel, which was the site where the surrender took place, and continued with a parade to the Jefferson School.

Douglas remembers approximately 150 to 200 members of the community arriving at the Jefferson School. She was struck by the mood, which she says set an appropriate tone for community conversations about history and race.

“It was celebratory as much as it was an informative moment,” Douglas says.

Moving forward, the holiday, which arose from the Blue Ribbon Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces, is expected to become part of the annual calendar.

Echoing Liberation and Emancipation Day’s ability to engage the community, Charlottesville will soon gain two new memorials that will be interactive and designed to drive conversations about race and history forward, rather than serving as venerations of specific historic figures.

In 2011, a student group called for a new memorial to commemorate enslaved laborers who were forced to work at UVA for the first four decades of its history. After winning support from the administration and a long search for an appropriate design, a plan for the Freedom Ring memorial has been chosen and it is slated for completion in time for UVA’s bicentennial in 2019.

The design features a circular granite structure designed to echo broken shackles. Stretching 80 feet in diameter, it will create a natural gathering place on the grassy stretch between the Corner and the Rotunda alongside University Avenue.

The structure will be inscribed with all known names of enslaved university workers, as well as marks to signify those who are unnamed in public record, with a rough-hewn exterior that will recall the physical and psychological scars left by slavery.

The landscaping has also been given careful thought and symbolism. A water feature will echo the Middle Passage (referring to the transportation of Africans on densely packed ships across the Atlantic), while also suggesting liberation. Finally, the landscaping will feature plants set to bloom during significant times, with blue snowdrops that will flower during Black History Month and potentially flowers that will bloom in time for Liberation and Emancipation Day on March 3.

In addition to the memorial for enslaved laborers, the Jefferson School is currently working to fund a new sculpture to commemorate Vinegar Hill, a historic African-American neighborhood that the city razed in 1965.

“The Jefferson School [can be viewed] as a monument itself, and the two [will] stand together as a true conversation about the community that was Vinegar Hill,” Douglas says.

The effort to commemorate Vinegar Hill began in 2011. A jury of historians, artists and writers, including Carmenita Higginbotham, Sarah Tanguy and Frank Walker, searched for a sculptor who could bring both a keen historic sensibility and an understanding of Charlottesville to the project.

Eventually, the jury selected Melvin Edwards, an award-winning artist known for both his installations at internationally known institutions including the Whitney and the Venice Biennale, as well as his public art projects, which have previously been featured at public housing and university sites.

For Douglas, Edwards’ iconic statue ensures that Charlottesville’s African-American community will be included in national conversations for years to come.

After a series of meetings with the area’s black community, Edwards designed a sculpture specifically for the site near the Jefferson School. The proposed sculpture will be made of welded steel featuring both geometric shapes and more recognizable symbols including chains. Its modern, abstract form is designed to resist easy explanation.

“You can actually stand inside of it,” Douglas says. “There’s a relationship to your body; you can be surrounded by the metaphor of this object.”

This represents a radical departure from the design of the Confederate statues, which can be only be approached from a point of view of veneration, she says.

These new memorials offer hope to members of the Charlottesville community who would like to see conversations about the city’s history expand.

“The arc is definitely moving strongly toward more honesty, more complete histories, and more understanding the need to overcome white supremacy,” says Dukes. “To be pessimistic is to be cynical, and to be cynical is to be complicit. I choose to look to ways many people are changing, so it’s not too hard to be optimistic.”

As the Vinegar Hill statue awaits complete funding, it raises broader questions about how statues and memorials are funded in Charlottesville. Part of the debate over whether the city has the legal right to remove the Confederate statues hinges on the fact that they were originally the result of a private donation, rather than public funding.

Although the Blue Ribbon Commission directed some funding to the Vinegar Hill sculpture, its position on private property and the fact that the jury process was not held publicly through City Council suppressed the amount of funding.

“If we got the money in 2012 or 2013 it may have been able to change the conversation,” Douglas says. “Had it begun and been more robust earlier, would the community be more prepared for the conversations we are engaged in now?”

Despite Edwards’ dialogue with Charlottesville’s African-American community, Douglas was clear that not everyone agrees about the final design. Nonetheless, these interactive memorials will provide new entry points into discussions of race, history and culture, offering Charlottesville new opportunities to debate and define its story.

“The only good thing of the events this summer is people are paying much more attention to our history,” says Dukes.