The controversial president of the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society abruptly resigned February 11 after cleaning out his office in the city-owned McIntire Building.
In a “hastily written note,” says Will Lyster, a historical society director, Steven G. Meeks resigned from the organization he’s headed for about a decade. The board asked Lyster to step in as interim president February 14.
“We realized that in the past couple of months, Steven had done nothing,” says Lyster, including the “10 easy things the city wanted done to renew the lease.” And Meeks’ departure comes at a time when the city is reconsidering its lease for the historical society, whose membership has dropped by half during his tenure.
Meeks drew scrutiny last summer when the historical society stalled a UVA professor’s access to its collection of Ku Klux Klan robes. At a September City Council meeting, planning commissioner Genevieve Keller said the society’s leadership had been “antagonistic” toward the Jefferson School African American Center, and Councilor Kathy Galvin called the nonprofit “an absolute mess.”
“We have a lot of housekeeping,” says Lyster, who is working on the city’s demands, including a more diverse board and inventory of the society’s assets.
After several weeks of prodding by a UVA researcher, the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society produced two of the 26 Ku Klux Klan robes in its collection, but its president refused to reveal which of the city’s citizens wore those robes in the 1920s.
The yellowed robes were stretched out in the exhibit hall of the historical society July 6 for a private viewing that included the media, UVA researchers and members of the Blue Ribbon Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces.
The robes were discovered in a shed in the eastern part of the city in 1993, according to the historical society. The Klan apparel was stored in a crate and had been exposed to dirt, heat, humidity and wear.
The resident who discovered and donated the robes did not request that his or her identity be concealed, nor did the donor request that the original owners of the robes remain anonymous, says historical society president Steven Meeks.
“Due to the sensitive nature of these artifacts, and in the interest of protecting the privacy of the descendants of both the donors and the original owners of the artifacts, at this time the society is not disclosing the address where the artifacts were found, nor the identity of the donor or the names of the two Klan members associated with this collections,” says Meeks.
Along with the robes was a KKK certificate of knighthood dated June 1, 1926. A facsimile of the certificate was enlarged and the name of the Klansman was redacted.
Meeks did not attempt to contact the donors, he says. He cited the impending visit of the Loyal Knights of the KKK as the reason for protecting the owners and their descendant
That decision caused some concern among the historians and members of the blue ribbon commission present.
UVA Associate Professor Jalane Schmidt, who is researching UVA’s ties to the KKK, which donated $1,000 to Memorial Gym in 1921, says she filed a research request with the historical society in mid-June to view the robes and received no response.
She believes the robes should be displayed and the owners revealed. “This is not good practice for a historical society,” she says.
John Edwin Mason is a UVA history professor who served on the blue ribbon commission. If the historical society displays the robes, as Meeks suggested it might, to understand them fully, its job would be to interpret the artifacts, says Mason, “You can’t do your job as a historical society without the provenance being attached to the display of this archive. It just can’t be done.”
Mason questioned protecting the identity of owners “who are long since dead.” Knowing who wore the robes “is essential to understanding the role of the Ku Klux Klan in Charlottesville society,” he says.
Meeks did say the wearers of the two robes displayed “were neither one prominent members of the town.”
But a June 28, 1921, Daily Progress article on the newly organized Klan chapter and its inaugural cross-burning at Monticello says the event was attended by “hundreds of Charlottesville’s leading business and professional men.”
And a 1922 Progress story notes that robed and masked Klan members showed up with a floral tribute with three Ks spelled out in white flowers at the funeral of Albemarle Sheriff C.M. Thomas.
“I think [Meeks] is being overly cautious when it comes to the people who at the time were associated with the Klan,” says Mason. He says he’s much less bothered with keeping the names of the donors secret.
But Don Gathers, who chaired the blue ribbon commission, says what the Klan members stood for is “morally wrong,” and the fact that the donors did not request anonymity “raises the question why” Meeks would take that stance.
Doug Day, former executive director of the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society, says he displayed the robes in 2005 or 2006. “At the time, the provenance was already smudged,” he says. The garments were found in Belmont when someone bought a house there, he adds.
Day says he would have “real reservations” about releasing the names of the owners and donors. “Why expose them? To what end?” he asks. “It’s perfectly in the purview of the historical society to withhold the names.
Attorney and lifelong Charlottesville resident Lewis Martin says Meeks discussed the issue with him. “It wasn’t so much a legal decision as about where we are now,” says Martin. “The historical society didn’t want to expose any descendants” of Klan members, nor discourage anyone who might want to donate artifacts to the organization.