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Tom Hart, HFFI's executive director, measures the extent of damage done to the stone block.
Vandalism to the historic auction block at the corner of Charles and William streets was discovered yesterday. |
What Cedric Rucker saw while taking his morning walk in Fredericksburg made him catch his breath.
The old sandstone platform on Charles and William streets, traditionally called the slave auction block, had been vandalized. Chunks were missing from the top of the block of stone.
It looked like someone had smashed it with a hammer.
Rucker, a downtown resident who is dean of student life at the University of Mary Washington, was horrified.
He spotted an officer nearby and told him the block had been vandalized, but the policeman knew it already. A half-hour earlier, a woman walking her dog had reported the destruction.
Police retrieved two large chunks of sandstone and several smaller pieces, which they are keeping as evidence.
They know it happened in the dark, sometime between Wednesday and early yesterday, said Fredericksburg police spokesman Jim Shelhorse. But they don't know who did it, or why.
"Slavery was so terrible a blot on our history that it's easy to imagine a variety of motivations," said Tom Hart, executive director of Historic Fredericksburg Foundation Inc. That organization in 1984 placed a plaque at the block, calling it "Fredericksburg's principal auction site in pre-Civil War days for slaves and property."
The exact role of the stone itself has been debated over the years, with some saying it might have supported the feet of auctioneers rather than of the human beings they sold. Others speculate that it served as a carriage step, noting its proximity to the old Planters Hotel.
But at least during the 20th century, local habit was to refer to the stone as the slave auction block.
Jervis Hairston, a city resident and Silver Cos. vice president who leads occasional black history walking tours in Fredericksburg, said his heart sank when he heard of the vandalism.
When his tours reach the stone block, all chatter stops. "You can hear a pin drop, no matter who's on the tour with me," Hairston said. "It evokes emotions in people just to stand there."
He refused to speculate on a motive. "I hate to attach any reason or logic to it," he said.
The stone block is an emotional symbol, eliciting anger, shame and possibly, denial. Still, it's stood through the years, weathered and gray but never intentionally harmed until now.
Rucker, the UMW dean, spent much of yesterday morning feeling just sick.
As a tangible reminder of the buying and selling of human beings, he said, the block is upsetting. And that's as it should be.
"We should be uncomfortable," Rucker said. "And we should never forget. We cannot change what this community has gone through."
Rucker said the block "speaks to the experience of generations of people before me. Every time I walk by that, there's a twinge in my gut."
Hart, the HFFI director, said the vandalism raises a question as to how the stone should be protected from now on.
Locking it up out of harm's way would be counterproductive, he said. Its power comes from its context, from the fact that people can stand there and feel the gravity of what occurred on that exact spot.
Rucker, who is a member of the HFFI board, agreed that the block needs to be protected where it stands.
Not all of Fredericksburg's history is about noble ideas, valor in battle or grand houses, he said.
"We should be telling all of our stories," he said, "not just the pretty part."
To reach LAURA MOYER: 540/374-5417 lmoyer@freelancestar.com
