OPINION: Wilmington's 1898 massacre. What comes after remembrance?

We gathered at 1898 Memorial Park on an overcast Saturday during the November commemorations of Wilmington’s massacre and coup d'état. Standing in the autumn chill among about 200 people, I felt the weight of history: my great-grandfather was among the instigators of that horrific day 123 years ago.

Shortly, we’d begin a ritual of community remembrance: a soil-collection ceremony, using trowels to fill large jars with dirt from massacre sites. One set of jars, etched with names of the deceased, will be displayed in Wilmington. Another set will stand, among hundreds from other U.S. cities, in the museum at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Alabama.

That Saturday afternoon, many wore black for the memorial following, at Pine Forest Cemetery, and the unveiling of a tombstone for Joshua Halsey. A deaf laborer, husband, and father, Halsey was shot 14 times Nov. 10, 1898 — one of two known massacre victims in the cemetery. The dozens or hundreds additional victims’ whereabouts remain unknown.

Rev. Kojo Nantambu opened the ceremonies with a blessing for the victims’ descendants, including more than 30 Halseys who’d traveled from around the country. Descendants of others terrorized or expelled from Wilmington were present — including those of the Howes, who’d hidden for days in the cemetery following the massacre. Alex Manly’s descendants attended. The editor of The Daily Record, Manly was driven from town, leaving behind his newspaper offices (which the mob burned) and a livery business.

Rev. Nantambu continued his prayer with another blessing. Stunned, I listened as he blessed the descendants of people responsible for the massacre.

When people like my ancestor inflict violence on others, they reap a kind of damage on themselves. The damage does not begin to compare — not even remotely — to the utterly shattered lives of the victims. But it does wreak its own havoc. That phenomenon is confirmed by social science research in sources, including the Equal Justice Initiative’s Lynching in America: Confronting the Legacy of Racial Terror (2017). Left unacknowledged or unaddressed, the emotional and spiritual fracturing that accompanies a perpetrator’s brutality doesn’t end with his generation but can pass down family lines, leaving widespread harm in its wake.

Am I responsible for my ancestor’s actions? No. But I do feel a responsibility to acknowledge and help repair what he helped to destroy. Not from pure altruism, but a desire to heal — in my generation — a crippling historical wound. Moreover, while I and other descendants of perpetrators didn’t choose the families we were born into, we’ve nevertheless benefitted — exponentially, over generations — both monetarily and in ways we can’t begin to articulate.

Some say such truth-telling, even compensation, “already happened” in 1998, during the 100th commemoration. Important strides indeed began then, including some financial outlays. They deserve recognition.

But there’s much more to do.

What comes after remembrance? What do families of the massacre’s instigators owe to the living families and communities affected? What’s owed by the city and state?

Some respond, “Nothing.” That no one alive today experienced or committed the harm. That Civil Rights legislation provided the corrective for past injustice. That you can’t replace lives with money, and even if you could, the amounts would be incalculable.

Yet some specific losses can in fact be calculated, difficult as that might be when many records were no doubt destroyed or convincingly altered. For example, research into our families’ property and businesses might well reveal they were acquired through seizure of someone else’s inheritance. And the plunder of 1898 only began with stolen lives, businesses, and property, assets hard-won in the short time following slavery. Such demise of potential inheritances accompanied a litany of subsequent losses — looted by Jim Crow laws that blocked access to voting, education, professions, and healthcare — intangibles that could have enabled better, more secure lives.

Astoundingly, many of the remarkable families expelled in 1898 recouped their losses by reinventing themselves elsewhere. What might the compounded wealth of their Wilmington businesses have shown, had they been permitted to flourish?

Restitution is long overdue — from the state, from the city of Wilmington, and yes, from descendants’ of 1898 perpetrators. Now is the time to develop a calculus for reparations and determine who’d benefit and how they’d be collected.

What might restitution look like? People whose ancestors were harmed should lead that discussion. The suggestions I’ve heard include a combination of specific financial settlements, grants, and social programs that would strengthen Wilmington as a whole, narrowing the gap of access to quality education, services, and home ownership.

To be sure, the challenge to right so many wrongs can feel overwhelming. But how can any of us look away, continuing to be beneficiaries — it must be said — of often ill-gotten gains at the expense of our neighbors? How do we move beyond our individual discomfort, our immense feelings of grief, and do the work still needed?

It will take all our dedication and love for Wilmington, for one another, to stay the course. Humility and patience are required. White people have to show up — even when we make mistakes, as we surely will — and keep showing up. Not to insert ourselves as the center of focus, but to earn the blessing that Rev. Nantambu graciously offered. By facing Wilmington’s historical injustice and trauma together, we just might create a virtuous cycle of opportunity for all and move toward true healing for this city.

Lucy McCauley is a writer, editor, and filmmaker. To work to address the legacy of 1898, contact Wilmington's chapter of Coming to the Table (https://comingtothetable.org/), Be the Bridge (https://bethebridge.com/), and Community Conversations (https://communityconversationsilm.com/).

This article originally appeared on Wilmington StarNews: 1898 Memorial Park commemorations of Wilmington's massacre