Civil War and Civil Rights: Travels in Central Virginia

title slide with author at the end of High Bridge

As I’m finishing up another vacation of which I plan to write about later, I thought I would catch up on Summer travels. In June, I took a week off. I spent a good portion of the time building a retaining wall, but was able to get away for three days and explore a bit of central Virginia.


Bear Creek Lake State Park, where we stayed

Last month I made a three day trip into an unfamiliar section of Central Virginia. Two things peaked my interest. One was to peddle the High Bridge Bicycle Trail.  The other was to visit the Moton Civil Rights Museum in Farmington. But while there, I also checked out a number of other sites dealing with the final days of the Civil War. As I written earlier, we moved to Petersburg, Virginia when I was six years old. I spent my first three years of elementary school in the all-white Walnut Hills Elementary School. We lived in Petersburg at the end of the Centennial of the War, I became interested and the war became real. Pieces of cannon balls and mini-balls (bullets) were often found as dirt was moved for home foundations and roads.

Petersburg is also where I have my first memories of race racial tension. We left in the summer of 1966 and you could feel the tension in the air. Petersburg would begin to integrate their school system that fall. There were four of us boys in a two block area who moved that summer. Everyone thought we were moving because of integration, but that wasn’t the case. Dad had always wanted to live near the coast and my brother and I headed with ur family into Southeastern North Carolina. The other brothers, Mark and Mike, moved with their mother to be near family in Michigan. Their father, who was a Master Sargent in the Army at Fort Lee, headed overseas. This time, they were not allowed to go with him. In the spring of 1966, Vietnam wasn’t on our radar. That would soon change. I’m pretty sure that’s where their dad headed. I often wondered if he made it back safely.

Thinking back to the spring of 1966, it’s easy to see how entwined the events of that year entangled with the events 101 years earlier. In early April 1865, after nine months of battle around Petersburg and Richmond, Union forces breached the Confederate lines. Lee had no choice but to pull his army out and make a dash west, in the hope to reunite with another Southern army in North Carolina. For a week, as Lee moved west, northern troops kept cutting off his retreat until finally, seven days later, he surrendered at Appomattox Courthouse. 

For whatever reason, we never visited these places when I lived in Petersburg. Maybe it was because there were more than enough Civil War battlefield sites around Petersburg. Maybe my parents didn’t want us to see where the surrendering took place. But it probably had more to do with us taking vacations either in the mountains or along the Atlantic shoreline. Yet, I remember many of the towns around these parts from my father who traveled there for work. He called on businesses and schools around Farmville, Dinwiddie, Amelia, Prince Edward County, and South Boston among other places. Driving along these roads on these dry June days, I found myself wishing I could ask him questions, especially about the schools as he often performed boiler inspections there. I don’t remember him saying much about the difference in black and white schools, but know he visited both. 

Beaver Dam
Beaver dam at Bear Creek Lake State Park

For the two nights on this strip, we stayed at a lovely cabin at Bear Creek Lake State Park. The cabin sat in the woods, not far from the small lake around which the park sat. Most of the park’s features were on the other side of the lake, a walk of a couple of miles in which I saw a beaver, a few harmless snakes, rabbits, and a few deer. After making the walk on the first night here, I came back to the cabin and fixed steaks while enjoying the evening.. 

At home, I live on a ridge overlooking a hay fields to the north with woods to the south and east. The birds often nest in the trees, but spend much of the day catching bugs or eating seeds in the high grass, while robins find worms in the yard. The thick hardwood canopy shading the cabin provided different bird sounds in the morning: flycatchers, warblers, gnat catches, and blue jays. But we didn’t spend a lot of time at the cabin.

bicycling. across high bridge

The next morning, we were in Farmville early as the day was going to be hot. By eight, we were peddling on the High Bridge Trail, which runs about 15 or so miles east and west of the city.  We didn’t plan to ride the entire trail. The highlight of the trail is the bridge, which is located five miles east of the city. The bridge spans the floodplain of the Appomattox River. The river itself at this point is not very wide, but the bluffs on each side create a half-mile wide valley covered with trees. When we arrived at the bridge, we crossed slowly. The bridge stands barely above the trees, providing interesting observations of birdlife in the top of the canopy.

At the ends of the bridge, plaques showed what the site looked like during the Civil War. The forest of today was absent, the trees having all been cut, probably for timbers for the massive structure. About a half mile after the bridge was a museum with the history of the bridge. One section showed the various tress patterns used in the the bridge, which was rebuilt three times during it’s history.. Another section explained the bridges role in the closing days of the Civil War.  

Appomattox. River from High Bridge

This line, built in the 1840s by the Southside Railroad, linked Petersburg to Lynchburg. It later became a part of the Norfolk Southern Railway. The maintenance on the bridge became to expensive and, with other alternatives linking the east to the west, the railroad abandoned the line in the early 2000s. It’s now a linear state park running from Burkeville to Pamplin City. 

This was a bridge that wouldn’t burn. As Lee’s armies evacuated Petersburg and Richmond and moved west, a Union calvary was dispatched to burn the bridge. This could have trapped Lee’s forces which consisted of 1800 wagons. However, the Confederacy had already fortified the approaches to the bridge and repelled the attack. A few days later, after Lee’s army with its massive number of wagons crossed the bridge, the South attempted to burn it. But with the Union forces on their heels, they extinguished the flames and quickly repair the bridge, allowing them to continue their pursuit. 

Civil Rights walking tour
Sidewalk walking path marker

After riding the trail, we headed to the Moton Museum which interprets the Civil Rights struggle in Farmville. This was an African American school which, in 1951, faced a student strike for better conditions. While the law required separate but equal facilities for all races, this wasn’t the case.

Moton School, now a museum
Restored Moton School in Farmville, now a museum

Students at the Moton School used old text books from the white schools. When room ran out in the older building, the school board built tar paper shacks around the brick building, where students froze in winter and sweated during the warmer months. There was no gym or shower facilities as in the white high school. In 1951, the students walked out. This was considered the first civil rights protest in the South. Later, this area saw white resistance to court ordered integration of schools. Instead of integrating, they shut down all the schools for several years. During this time, white students mostly moved to church sponsored schools and to this day, the racial divide continues between private and public schools. 

After two hours touring the museum, we headed out to Sailor’s Creek and then Cumberland Presbyterian Church. Both of these locations where locations of battles toward the end of the war. At Sailors Creek, the Confederates had difficulty getting all the wagons over the two bridges crossing the creek. While they repelled the attack, allowing most of the army to escape, about a quarter of Lee’s army surrendered. The end at Appomattox was only 72 hours away. Cumberland Presbyterian Church, which is about 5 miles north of Farmville, was another blocking battle where a few units of Lee’s army attempted to slow Grant’s army. On the edge of the property of this church was a sign I’d never seen on a church ground: No Relic Hunting!

Cumberland Presbyterian Church
Cumberland Presbyterian Church
McLean House at Appomattox Courthouse
McLean House

On our last day, we spent the morning at Appomattox, which had been restored to look like it might have appeared in 1865, when Lee and Grant meet. I didn’t know the McClean House, where the papers were signed, had been taken down to be used in the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair and then to be displayed in Washington, DC. But it never made it and the building was rebuilt on its original foundation in 1948. It wasn’t till after World War 2 that the site received federal protection as a National Historic Site. Surprisingly, Appomattox, unlike most Civil War battlefields, remains mostly free of monuments. The exception being my home state of North Carolina. Maybe my relatives felt it appropriate to celebrate the end of this “rich man’s war.”  

Appomattox Courthouse
Patrick Henry's dining room
Patrick Henry’s dining room

That afternoon before we headed home, we stopped at Patrick Henry’s Red Hill. This was the home he retired to 1794, after his career in politics. Henry died in 1799. The estate is ran by a private foundation who attempts to reclaim the heritage of Patrick Henry. We remember his inflammatory words, “Give me liberty or give me death.” The interpretation along the grounds doesn’t shy away with the ironic view of such liberty for himself the enslaving people. They do a good job on displaying the lives of the slaves on the plantation. A short walk from the Henry home are the restored slave cabins and slave cemetery. Patrick Henry is also known for his work for the adoption of the Bill of Rights. 

Patrick Henry's Home
Patrick Henry’s Home

Reviews of My March Readings

Book covers for those books reviewed

Kiki Petrosing, Bright: A Memoir

(Louisville, KY: Sarabande Brooks, 2022), 106 pages. 

The term “Bright” implies, within an African American context, a mix-race individual. It describes Petrosing. Her mother is an African American and her father an Italian. This is the second book I’ve read by her in preparation to hearing her at this year’s Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin University in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Click here to read a review of her book on Virginia. 

In this memoir, written as a poetic style, the author struggles with many issues. There’s her Italian grandfather’s suicide, the meaning of poetry, Catholic traditions, and the struggle between being grounded and a life of the spirit. As in the volume of her poetry I read earlier, she deals with Thomas Jefferson (whose slaves gave birth to other “Brights”). She draws in other poets, such as Dante, Shakespeare, and her mentor Gregory Orr. Learning that she teaches at the University of Virginia, I wondered if she knew Orr. Having read some of Orr’s poetry and his memoir, The Blessing, I was expecting this memoir to be prose. But Petrosing does it her way. As I read, I found myself drawn to the glimpses of her life.  

C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

Cover photo for The Screwtape Letters

(1942, New York: HarperCollins, 1996), 209 pages. 

The Screwtape Letters is a classic. In this book, Screwtape, an older demon, writes letters to his young nephew, Wormwood, providing advice as to how he might best tempt his “patient.” The book only consists of Screwtape’s letters, but we learn Wormwood regularly corresponds back through Screwtape’s reference to the letters. The world of Screwtape is different than ours. These are evil spirits and everything is upside down. The goal of the demons is to trap the patient into their world where he will become “food.” 

These letters show how even good things can be used for evil purposes. All is not lost to the demons when the patient joins a church. Other temptations appear. The tempters don’t have to encourage bad behavior. Instead, they just have to draw their “patients” away from God and force them to think highly of themselves and their abilities. 

This is my third time reading this book. I read it first in collage, and again maybe 20 years ago. This time, I read much of the book twice along with parts of a study book on the letters as I lead a discussion on it through Lent. 

Gilbert King, Devil in the Grove: Thurgood Marshall, the Groveland Boys, and the Dawn of a New America.

Book cover for "Devil in the Grove"

narrated by Peter Frances James (Harpers, 2013), 17 hours and 53 minutes. 

While driving back and forth to Hilton Head and on to the Okefenokee this month, I listened to Gilbert King’s Pulitzer Prize winning history of a shameful event in American history. King winds together several stories, centering around a supposedly rape, to bring to life a tragedy which occurred in the post-World War years in rural Florida.  

At the center of the story is Thurgood Marshall, who led the NAACP’s legal defense fund. As a young lawyer working for the NAACP, Marshall rode trains south to defend African Americans in Jim Crow Courts. His main strategy was to win appeals and to take the case to the Supreme Court, where he had an envious record, winning 29 of his 32 cases before the highest court. Marshall also oversaw the Brown vs Topeka Board of Education which set the stage for the end of segregation. In 1967, long after the Groveland trials, President Johnson appointed Marshall to the Supreme Court where he became the first African American justice. In addition to Marshall’s work on the Groveland case (which came as they appealed), King provides a background into his early years as a Civil Rights lawyer. Like many individuals who seem larger than life, Marshall had his faults. King notes his problem within his marriage, his womanizing, and his love for bourbon. 

Another character at the center of the story in Lake County, where the rape supposedly took place, was Sheriff Willis McCall. He’s the “Devil in the Grove,” a man who ruled Lake County, Florida for decades. McCall protected gambling interests, low wages in the citrus groves, and segregation. He was not above taking the law in his own hands, as the recently opened FBI files showed. 

The case, known as the Groveland Boys, begins with a 17-year-old Norma Padgett and her estranged husband attempting to get back together. Going out for the evening and drinking a lot of liquor, the two found themselves broken down on a deserted road. Two young black men stop to help. When Padgett’s estranged husband disrespects them, a fight ensues. Norma takes off. What happens next is subject to speculation. Padgett’s husband made it back into town, telling the story that his wife’s kidnapping. This might have been to protect himself from Norma’s father, also a violent man with Klan ties. Norma shows up early that morning at a diner and doesn’t seem to have been in any kind of fight or rape. Those who saw her thought she was calm. It appears that at this point, she and her husband collaborate on their story, and a posse starts looking for four black men, even though only two were at the scene the evening before. 

A doctor who examined Norma could not positively say she’d been raped but challenged the idea she had been physically attacked. This information, questioned the legitimacy of the Norma’s story and was suppressed. The defense discovered it only after conviction. Another suppressed piece of information was the young man working at the diner who gave Norma a ride that morning. He noted, in the second trial, how she appeared as if nothing had happened. 

Three of the four charged with the crime were arrested. The fourth attempted to run and was later shot. The three who went to trial were found guilty, two of whom were sentenced to death. and moved to the Florida State Penitentiary. During the appeal, Thurgood Marshall became involved with the case and assisted local attorneys. They won a new trial for the two on death row. Sheriff McCall and a deputy, in separate cars, went to pick up the prisoners and move them back to Lake County for trial. Locking the prisoners together in his car, McCall then took a back road where he supposedly had a flat tire. He said that while he was changing, the two men attacked him and he shot them. The Sheriff called the deputy on the radio. He came, realized Walter Irvin remained alive and shot him again. Irvin, wounded, played dead. When the coroner arrived thinking both men were dead, he realized Irvin was alive and had him transported to the hospital. At this point, the FBI becomes involved. 

The second trial also resulted in a convection and a death sentence. But things were changing in Florida. A new governor, who wanted to protect the state’s booming tourist and agricultural interest, had an attorney friend examine the case. He concluded the men had been framed. The governor pardoned Irvin. The state later exonerated and freed him. Charles Greenlee, who had received a life sentence was also freed. At this point, even the prosector, Jesse Hunter, admitted an injustice occurred and the defendants had been framed. 

Harry T. Moore, another character in this story, headed the Florida NAACP.  On his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, he and his wife were killed when Klansmen firebombed his home. Moore, who had his own battles with the NAACP along with segregationists like Sheriff McCall. He had been influential in bringing Thurgood Marshall in on the case.  In addition to this, Marshall had to be careful during his time in Lake County. And he also had threats and attempts on his life and safety. 

King had access to NAACP legal defense records as well as the recently opened FBI records pertaining to the case. Drawing on this information, the framing of the Groveland Boys can be easily seen.  I recommend this book, especially as today many in our nation desire to undo the gains America has made in Civil Rights over the past 75 years.  It should remind us that our nation’s hands are not as clean as people often imagine.