I came upon the Boone Hall Plantation during a recent visit to Charleston, SC. They had nine original slave cabins on the grounds that were built in the 1800’s. The experience at times was absolutely overwhelming. I wept from an unknown place. My emotions were raw. I was irked by the white woman asking questions that she already knew the answer to like; “but the slaves had to have papers to travel right”. I wanted to slap her. Wrong, yes, but painfully true. I was aggravated by the wax figures they used to portray what slaves looked like. I thought of the heat of the brick during summer months and the cold they must have endured through the winter. The trees spoke to me, they knew the real history in a way that man rarely reveals.
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