Flying Oskar: Truth, History, and the Preservation Way
When is history worth preserving? My gut reaction is to say “alwaysâ€, but that’s not realistic. The decision of what old thing to save versus what old thing not to save is most often a decision based on—among other things—historical significance. Historical significance though, is in the eye of the beholder. Why are the homes of the wealthy and influential from bygone eras—even those guilty of terrible crimes against society—more worthy of preservation than the homes of simple farmers and laborers?
These are just a few of the questions on my mind after reading the latest update on the Preservation Trust of Spartanburg’s ongoing saga to restore the bungalow at 232 Hydrick Street in Hampton Heights.
According to an article published in the Spartanburg Herald-Journal last week, the home — briefly lived in by former South Carolina Governor Ibra Charles Blackwood — is in a serious state of disrepair. The back portion of the home will have to be entirely demolished and rebuilt and once completely refurbished, the home’s sale price of $168,000 will only allow the Preservation Trust to break even at best. Undaunted by the scale of the renovation though, Preservation Trust Executive Director Kristi Webb said “We knew this would be a huge undertaking, but one we’ve wanted to do since we were given the opportunity”.
Hampton Heights is full of historic homes, many of them renovated by the Preservation Trust, but it’s not as though every dilapidated home in the neighborhood has been brought from the brink of being demolished by the trust. On the contrary, many homes in Hampton Heights that were deemed too far gone been demolished. The explanation for saving the Blackwood bungalow is summed up pretty concisely by Ken Pangle, owner of the project’s general contractor MP Services, who said, “If this wasn’t in the historic area, a house built by a former governor, it would be front-end loader timeâ€.
On the face of it, that sounds like a pretty reasonable argument. Having the home of a former South Carolina Governor in the neighborhood is pretty good publicity for Hampton Heights, and restoring the home of a former South Carolina Governor will be a pretty good notch in the belt of the Preservation Trust. Just calling Blackwood a former governor though, doesn’t tell half the story. As it turns out, Blackwood wasn’t just any South Carolina Governor; he was a monster.
Ibra Charles Blackwood was born in Spartanburg County in 1878, and was Governor of South Carolina from 1931 until 1935. His most notable achievement as far as the sanitized version of his gubernatorial career is concerned was creating the South Carolina Public Service Authority that later led to the construction of the Santee-Cooper dams. For the working people of South Carolina though Blackwood may be better remembered for being the governor responsible for a massacre at a mill in Honea-Path during the great Textile Strike of 1934 and for siding law-breaking textile mill owners instead of the law-abiding striking workers.
Before the large general strike in 1934, there was a small strike of cotton mill workers in the Horse Creek Valley area of South Carolina in October of 1933. Strikers there were demanding that employers live up to the code of conduct established by the National Recovery Administration which had recently been created by the the passing of President Roosevelt’s National Industrial Recovery Act.. This administration set a code of conduct for the textile industry that, among other things, set a minimum wage, regulated hours, and guaranteed the rights of workers to organize and form unions.
Governor Blackwood responded to the striking workers demands by calling out a machine gun unit of the National Guard and the Highway Patrol to keep the mills open. When the NIRA board arrived in Horse Creek, they encouraged the workers to return to work without even hearing their grievances. Governor Blackwood however, left the National Guard there to prevent the striking workers from returning to work and allowed the mill owners to evict the strikers from their homes. This incident provided foreshadowing for Blackwood’s handling of the larger strike that was to come.
The textile workers strike of 1934 was the largest strike in American history at the time. It started the day after Labor Day in 1934, and involved workers from Maine all the way to Alabama. 400,000 workers total had walked out to protest unfair working conditions. In South Carolina 298 mills were shut down completely with many more reduced in their capacity. Spartanburg was the most heavily pro-union county in South Carolina involved in the strike with some 9,000 out of 14,000 workers walking out, shutting down 18 of the county’s mills. The demands were the same as the Horse Creek strike. The workers simply wanted the mill owners to follow the newly passed NIRA law.
Governor Blackwood was the quickest to act against the strike of any state governor. At the start of the strike Blackwood called out the National Guard and issued orders to “shoot to kill†if necessary to keep striking workers out of the mills. He also said that he would deputize “mayors, sheriffs, peace officers, and every good citizen in order to maintain order. Blackwood’s militant reaction lead predictably to deadly violence.
On September 6th at the Chiquola Mill in Honea-Path, Governor Blackwood’s anti-union policy had its most lethal consequences. The Chiquola Mill wasn’t shut down by the strike, but it wasn’t running at full capacity, and it was being guarded by Anderson County Sheriff W. A. Clamp and a contingent of deputies most of whom were deputized specifically to guard the mill. On the morning of September 6th, picketers were outside the front gate of the mill when a fistfight broke out between a striker named Buck Shaw and a non-striking worker with the last name Cummings.
What happened next is the subject of some debate, but when it was all over, six unarmed strikers lay dead and another would die later. All seven of them were shot in the back. Eyewitnesses claimed that most of the shots came from the second floor of the mill and that Sheriff Clamp and a mill supervisor finished two of the men off, as they lay wounded on the ground. After the carnage, the mill owner refused to allow mill churches to hold funeral services for the slain strikers.
On September 9th after the Honea-Path massacre, Governor Blackwood declared a “state of insurrection†and established martial law only applying it to mill property. This had the effect of ending picketing outside of mills and ended any further walkouts by textile workers in South Carolina. The strike itself eventually failed across the country. With no support from the NIRA or any other Federal agency, and the militant anti-union action that most state governments had taken, the strike could not sustain itself, and the workers were forced to give up. Most were never able to return to their jobs in the mills, and were blacklisted. Many also were evicted from their mill homes.
In the South, the failed strike had the effect of killing off most union activity for the next half century. While the rest of the country benefited from strong unions that insured better wages and benefits, the South lagged behind now that the mill owners had established an iron grip on the work force. This is Governor Blackwood’s true legacy.
Is the home of a man guilty of setting the stage for the murder of seven innocent South Carolinians and then allowing their murderers to go free without so much as an inquiry worth saving? I don’t think it is.
Governor Blackwood’s former home is being saved because it’s the home of a former governor without respect to what else the man was. It’s the most baseless form of classism. If there were any justice in the world, we’d hold a ceremony where descendants of the murdered strikers could come and be allowed to drive the bulldozers that knock the Blackwood bungalow to the ground. This mans most tangible effect on South Carolina was to ensure that those who had their boots on the necks of the state’s mill workers were able to keep their boots there without fear of reprisal. He was a man who did whatever it took to maintain the aristocratic class privilege enjoyed by powerful South Carolinians of his generation.
Why should such great lengths be taken to preserve the legacy of a butcher while no one would ever go to so much trouble to preserve the home of one of the textile workers he was so intent on beating into submission? If Ibra Blackwood had been loom operator Blackwood instead of Governor Blackwood, would the Preservation Trust care about restoring the home even though in all likelihood they’ll lose money on the deal? Somehow, I doubt it.
Christopher George | 06/30/09
“…I don’t believe a person is automatically important just because of the office that person held. In fact, to me that’s about the most undemocratic thing a person can believe. ”
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Lord help me but I agree with you on this one CG. Your statement cuts to the chase and exposes a flawed notion of historical artifact determination.
Perfect.
Chris said: “I don’t believe a person is automatically important just because of the office that person held. In fact, to me that’s about the most undemocratic thing a person can believe.”
That’s awesome. Probably the most intelligent and inspiring thing I’ve read on the Spark ever … seriously. Way to go, Chris. I’m amazed at the venom being spewed your way under the guise of compassion for Spartanburg. People sure get angry when presented with different opinions. Kudos for having a very reasonable argument and standing your ground.
“Lord help me but I agree with you on this one CG.”
Don’t beat yourself up about it too bad CM. It was bound to happen eventually.
Lucas: Thanks for the high praise. I’m a little taken aback by the the anger over this one myself. I was anticipating some disagreement, but not at this level.
Anger? Venom? Spewing? Not so much.
This is an otherwise civil discussion undone by some tortured logic, hyperbole, a teeny bit of willful misunderstanding, and people talking past each other.
Let’s not get crazy here, people.
I’m sorry I am just now piping up on this; I was just informed of the blog discussion by a potential homebuyer (fingers crossed he remains as such after this bashing!). Our ED is on vacation this week, so lucky me…I get to respond.
Mr. George, I hate that our work has you so worked up…so much so that you feel the need to make assumptions about our mission and motivations to restore the Blackwood bungalow (much less the other 35+ homes in the neighborhood). If it is simply the reference to it as the “Blackwood Bungalow”, you can address this with your landlord, [I REMOVED THIS PERSONAL INFO. BLAST CHRIS'S OPINIONS ALL DAY, BUT OUTING HIS LANDLORD ISN'T KOSHER. -- SS], who included Hydrick Street (and 232 Hydrick Street) in the 1983 National Register of Historic Places district nomination because of its political signifance. We often name our projects after we perform deed and City Directory research, using the name of the first owner or resident (or, in some cases, the longest resident.
Let me explain some inconsistancies in the news coverage and history on the home; Preservation Architect Martin Meek made the statement that the home was built by I.C. Blackwood. After further research, we have found that the home was not built by Blackwood, but by the Biber family. The Biber’s rented the home to I.C. Blackwood (then the Spartanburg County Solicitor) from 1916 to 1918. They then sold the home to the Burnsteins in 1919, who in turn sold it to the Monks in 1920, who then sold it to the Hamiltons….well, you get the picture.
The Trust staff cannot demand a journalist include or not include information in a news story, do further research, etc. What we can do is provide information and hope for positive press coverage regarding a restoration project that now has a future. To suggest that the home should be bulldozed because the former Governor once lived there is extreme. Erecting a marker is a good idea, but I think it would be misplaced at 232 Hydrick Street, as the home itself predates the Textile Strike of 1934. After all, in 1934, the home belonged to Charles and Carrie Scruggs. As a resident of the Hampton Heights Historic District, you should know that the Historic Preservation Ordinance and guidelines have measures in place to prevent demolitions of homes in the neighborhood. You claim there have been “many” demolitions in the neighborhood, but as Tammy pointed out, most of these (all but two) occured before the creation of the Preservation Trust. The two most recent demolitions (both on Carlisle Street) were projects we pursued, but the owners did not want to sell them.
The Preservation Trust has taken on some projects that no one else would touch, and the Blackwood Bungalow is one of them.
YES, its story is very sad, and it encompasses so much more than the two years I.C. Blackwood lived there. When we tour through the house, it is not Blackwood we are discussing; it is Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace, who were the most recent occupants of the home. They lived there even after a tree had fallen through the back half of the house. They lived in the front three rooms. We were told that they lacked running water. The fence around the property was erected after Mrs. Lovelace was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s because she began to wander at night. Neighbors discovered the conditions of the property after Mr. Lovelace had a heart attack and EMS removed him (and Mrs. Lovelace) from the home. This was February 2007.
A house contains a wealth of family history, whether the political aspirations of a County Solicitor, or the struggles of an older couple who can’t make ends meet. A lot of families lived in the home. We’re preserving this house (and others, for that matter) because that is our mission. We believe preservation of housing stock is part of the sustainability of our neighborhoods and communities. And to do that, we work on one house at a time. Hopefully, we will soon be doing that in Beaumont Mills….we have been waiting a long time to preserve a mill neighborhood….something that should be done for current and future generations.
My hope is, Mr. George, that you will pursue the dream of homeownership in the Historic District, and the Trust would be happy to help you with that. We would even be happy to give you a tour of the Blackwood Bungalow, so long as you leave your wrecking bar at home.
Lastly, next time you use a photo from our website or blog, please check with us first….we have a copyright policy. You are welcome to leave the house’s photo on the blog as published, but sometimes we use the work of professional photographers, and we like to give them notice and credit if we (or anyone else) publish it.
Rebecca:
Thank you for posting this and for the clarifications. Most of us who understand and have a respect for local history and preservation support what you guys do at the Preservation Trust. So many people fail to realize the role Spartanburg played in this state’s political history.
You said that a marker would be misplaced at the 232 Hydrick given that the house predates the Textile Strike. Is it possible to have just a general historical maker to I.C. Blackwood though? I have often wondered if you could place historical markers if they are private residences. For instance, I don’t believe there is one at the JF Byrnes home on Otis Blvd. and I have always thought there should be (and for that matter, a monument to him somewhere downtown would be nice!)
Another question: as you are clearly very informed and interested in local history, is it true (as has been suggested) that three governors lived on Hydrick St? I am going to be checking with a local historian later but didn’t know if you had any info.
Keep up the good work!
“The Trust staff cannot demand a journalist include or not include information in a news story, do further research, etc.”
For the sake of clarity, the Chris’s commentary was referring to the SH-J story, which reported that the house was “built by former Gov. Ibra Charles Blackwood at 232 Hydrick St. more than 90 years ago.” We’ll correct the original text to reflect the current information.
Speaking only for myself, this actually diminishes the argument that the home is worth saving because of its historic connection with the former governor. Blackwood didn’t even build the house, he only lived there for two years. The house may have other merits that I’m unaware of, and may well be worth saving because of them, but it takes the Blackwood connection out of the realm of history for me, and makes it more trivia.
Ryan,
From my research, two former governors (Blackwood and Johnston) lived on Hydrick Street…very exciting considering the election of 1930.I am not sure about a historical marker but will check with the SHPO to learn more.
I failed to thank folks for their support via comments to this post. When your job/work is questioned by someone you have never met, it can be rather discouraging.
Steve, the Trust strives to save every house in disrepair in the neighborhood, including your own.You are not alone in your opinion that the project is trivial. Fortunately, it is our decision and our risk to take the project on…I welcome you in a tour (before and after) of the house.
Rebecca Parrish:
Nice job making things personal by referencing my landlord. Really classy. Should I be packing my bags for offending the HH mafia now? Geez for a liberal neighborhood you guys sure can’t take any criticism. I never made this about any person in particular, but thanks for going there and outing personal information about me. Again truly classy move!
If Blackwood’s connection to the home is so incidental, why has your organization gone to such great lengths to highlight it? On your site you go so far as to have a special section on the site devoted to the “Governor’s Home”. In all your PR about the home, Blackwood’s name is bandied about like some sort of badge of honor. With all due respect, if anyone is misleading anyone about the home at 232 Hydrick Street and Blackwood’s connection to it, it’s the trust doing the misleading.
When I first wrote Executive Director Kristi Webb about this matter back on October 19th of last year, she assured me that you guys were unaware of that aspect of Blackwood’s history, and that in the future the information about the strike would be included in future references to the home. I took her answer in good faith, but apparently I shouldn’t have.
You are correct to point out that you can’t control what the SH-J runs in their story but as I’ve already pointed out, your organization has both a website and a blog and while several facts about Blackwood’s term as Governor of South Carolina have been mentioned, his role in the strike has not. You may not control the SH-J–though I’m sure the strike wasn’t mentioned to them by you either–but you do control the content on your own sites. If you intend to continue to play up Blackwood’s connection to the home without being honest about the man you’re connecting, I will continue to call attention to your intentional omission of facts.
Also, The photo is now removed.
Mr. George,
Please do check our blog; I think you will be pleased by what you see.
Any reference to marketing or PR can be directed to me, as that is part of my job, which is why I have updated our blog to inform the public of the history of Blackwood and the current debate.
HH Mafia? Really?! Come on! I respect your passion for the topic, and I think there is a place for that passion, which is why I have created a new blog post acknowledging it. I am glad there is a discussion going on. It raises awareness no matter what the opinion. As I stated before, you are welcome to come by for a tour of the house…before and after restoration.
I appreciate the mention on the blog even though we disagree.
However, you still had no right to out personal information about me on this site. Who is or is not my landlord is my business to disclose, not yours.
“Steve, the Trust strives to save every house in disrepair in the neighborhood, including your own.”
Any particular reason you’re mentioning this? It has nothing to do with the Blackwood house, and I’d really rather not make this about my personal experience with the Trust.
“You are not alone in your opinion that the project is trivial.”
I don’t think the project is trivial, nor did I say it was. I just don’t think that Blackwood’s living there for two years is really a strong historic argument. I think it’s interesting TRIVIA ABOUT THE HOUSE, but not something I find deeply compelling on its own.
Many apologies, Mr. George, for “outing” your landlord…she owns lots of properties in the neighborhood, and I certainly didn’t mean for you to feel belittled for renting…this was not at all the intention (one of the reasons I am not fond of online debates…no way to see meaning, inflection or tone). You mentioned in an earlier post that you were considering buying, and I hope you still do. Again, we love the diversity of opinions and welcome debate. I’m so glad the comments from neighbors and others have been posted.
Again, sorry to “out” you as a resident…I’ve seen you post here and elsewhere, and hope to meet you in the future (maybe for that tour?)…please, just don’t bring your weapons of house destruction.
It hurts my heart to see all you good people building ill will towards each other through this escalating discussion. I have great respect for all of you and your passions. Each side of this debate is made up of people who are important voices in our community and who are pushing things — respect for working people, and neighborhood preservation — that are admirable and valuable. What we have here are two good, progressive causes that got at cross purposes with each other.
I am a member of the Preservation Trust board but have not had a moment’s discussion with either staff or board members about this debate this week. I want to say that up front because I don’t want to be accused of being part of one “gang” or another. I’m also not a terribly involved member, but I do make most board meetings and so get to hear reports of what regularly transpires with the organization. I will tell you from my recollections of discussions that this project was never about saving a governor’s house. It was only about saving a house, about preserving a track record of keeping every dwelling in HH standing.
The tactic used to influence public officials (the governor connection)is what has caused the controversy on this site, I think we all have to admit that the narrative that was used to win this difficult battle at City Hall is offensive to Chris and, by extension, the forgotten people in our community he nobly speaks for.
It is very important that someone speak for the working class. It is also important that someone work to save every structure possible in that great neighborhood. A house was saved, but the political calculation used to save it blew up in the PT’s face here on this website. We can all learn from this and, I hope, move toward each other rather than apart.
Betsy: I would encourage you to not worry too much about any sort of “debate” going on about this house. Remember that this is just one website and the majority of people in Spartanburg are not reading our discussion here. I think what the PT is doing is pretty non-controversial to most average people who don’t spend their time reading blog comments (like we do!)
Also, I don’t think that the PT playing up the governor angle on the house as part of its historical significance is really that offensive. Just because one local blogger is offended does not mean it is an offensive act on the whole.
Also, I think it needs to be pointed out that the role that the blogger here may over-inflate the role that Ibra Blackwood played in the textile riots. There are several historians I could point to that would probably offer a different perspective about how much blood is actually on Blackwood’s hands.
Thank you very much Betsy. I really appreciate your balanced perspective on this.
I didn’t start this with the intention of driving wedges. What I try to do here is tell truth as I see it, and sometimes that rubs people the wrong way. Things get a little heated now and then, but there’s no reason to take any of this personally. Many of the people I’ve disagreed with on this one are normally people I find myself agreeing with, and though we may not always walk in lockstep with one another, I still consider those people my ideological peers. No harm done from my perspective, and I hope the same is true for everyone else involved.
Ryan: “There are several historians I could point to that would probably offer a different perspective about how much blood is actually on Blackwood’s hands.”
Really? Could you contact them and find out more of the specifics? I’m sure many of us would appreciate their insight.
We already know for a fact that Ibra Blackwood was clearly opposed to the people on strike. The people striking for hours less than 60 a week, wages more than $12 a week, and an elimination of stretch-out.
We know for a fact that he deputized people he knew would do the job, and instructed them to shoot to kill to keep strikers out of the mills. We also know that the 7 strikers were shot in their backs while trying to run away.
Did he need to shoot them himself for that to be considered blood on his hands?
I’m curious, what historians did you have in mind?
“Also, I think it needs to be pointed out that the role that the blogger here may over-inflate the role that Ibra Blackwood played in the textile riots. There are several historians I could point to that would probably offer a different perspective about how much blood is actually on Blackwood’s hands.”
Really Ryan? How many books have you read on the strike, because I’ve read two and those were the only two I could find on the topic. You’ve written several times that you know of a different historical perspective than the one I’ve presented. By all means, enlighten me.
Katie: Are you a history buff? Or are you just repeating what the original poster wrote? Have you studied the Ibra Blackwood era a lot? Just wondering–you seem to like to ask a lot of tounge-in-cheek questions on this blog to try to corner people. Thought I would ask one too.
You should know that two different historians could take the same set of historical events and offer completely different perspectives on them based on their own research, contextual understanding, etc.
I’ve taken SC History classes at both Wofford and USC-Columbia and been a research assistant for a South Carolina historian at USC. All I meant to say is that there are some SC historians who would put Ibra Blackwood’s actions as they relate to the Honea Path textile riots in a different perspective than the blogger did.
And no I’m not going to ask my former professors to visit a local blog comments section to educate you. I really don’t know who you are, I hope you understand.
Ryan,
Actually, I don’t think the original post included specific information about what the strikers were fighting for. Can you believe that I actually do read on my own? Who’d of thought!
Sure, historians “could” or “would” offer completely different perspectives on the subject. Let me know when they finally do. It’s great you can make observations like this. We should try this on another historical topic–I’m sure it could be applied to just about any! I’m glad you’ve taken history classes. I’m sure you got an A–good job.
I’ve stated facts about this that I’ve read in one of the only books I could find about the subject. Where are your facts?
OK Katie and Chris. I don’t have time to get into a historical debate on this. Just from the back of my memory, here might be an example of another perspective. Chris you mentioned the Horse Creek Valley strike in Aiken I think and Blackwood’s response to this. Some historical accounts of that situation would say that Blackwood sent constables and later the National Guard there in order to prevent violence, not cause it. The strikes were going on up and down the Eastern seaboard, and there were multiple accounts of strikers engaging in violent acts in other cities and states. Thus Blackwood may have felt the need to mobilize the National Guard to “keep the peace”.
There are more than two book out there that deal with the Honea Path riots. I would recommend visiting the South Caroliniana Library in Columbia if this is really interesting to you.
Strikes are not riots Ryan.
I have been thinking about this for the better part of the last two days, though I have as yet not weighed in. I’m usually not too quick to jump in on something like this, so my comments here may be something on the order of beating a dead horse. I’ll say first that I think that the Preservation Trust was right to try to save the house for several reasons, though I think it was probably a close call simply based on the level of deterioration involved in the house.
I think Ryan (above) makes a good point that the role of Governor Ibra Blackwood in the Textile Strike of 1934 is certainly the kind of thing that historians would debate. Historians deal in both facts and in interpretations. Sometimes the facts are clear cut, and sometimes they are not as clear cut, as point of view can dictate what gets recorded, and interpretations can diverge wildly. Bryant Simon’s 1998 book “A Fabric of Defeat: The Politics of South Carolina Millhands, 1910-1948″ tries to reconstruct the events of September 1934, and reading through those pages again reminds me how confusing and murky the events of that day were. I’d consider the sheriff of Anderson County, the leadership of the Chiquola Manufacturing Company, and the strikebreakers who were recruited from the mill village and rural areas surrounding Honea Path to be more responsible for the violence than Blackwood. Incidentally, the mill superintendent at Chiquola was also the mayor of Honea Path. If anyone has blood on his hands, it would be those people, though I am certainly not absolving Blackwood of all responsibility in what happened. Ultimately, his actions did not end up calming a tense situation, they made things worse. And that’s not what you want a leader to do. What happened on Sept. 6 had been brewing for days, there had already been fistfights, and there was basically a melee when the mill gates opened that day. Somebody fired a shot, and then people began to run, and the autopsies showed that those who were killed were shot in the back as they were fleeing. (I cite Bryant Simon’s work here as well).
I also think we have to look at the massacre (and I think that’s a fair term) in Honea Path in the context of class conflict in SC in the 1930s. We don’t talk much about conflict in history class, it makes people uncomfortable. There were certainly strong class divisions between rural farmers, middle class townspeople, and mill workers in South Carolina. Blackwood was elected by people who were opponents of organized labor, and in fact, in the 1930 election, he beat pro-labor candidate Olin Johnston, also of Spartanburg. (I use the word “beat” advisedly, because the election was most likely stolen in Charleston, and then the ballots were burned in the street to prevent a recount.) The events of September 1934 scared the heck out of people in SC. Middle-class citizens wrote Blackwood to ask him to declare martial law. Some mill executives thought the labor organizers were “anarchists.” I don’t think what the mill workers were asking for was out of line, but clearly there was a tremendous power struggle going on over issues of labor and management and class all across the country.
But out of the tragedy in Honea Path came one victory for mill workers: six days after the seven workers were killed, former mill worker (and former Hydrick Street resident) Olin D. Johnston was elected governor with over 56% of the Democratic primary vote. Spartanburg itself was, according to Bryant Simon (full disclosure, he was my master’s thesis adviser at UGA back in the 1990s) and based on other things I’ve read, a fairly pro-union county, and truthfully, remained so up through World War II. Nobody around here talks about that, which is unfortunate. I think it leads to an incomplete view of our history.
Who let the textile workers down? A whole lot of people, from FDR on down, and not just Governor Blackwood. I’d disagree with the characterization of Blackwood as a “monster” – that was the one thing that took me aback in the original post. Actually, I think Blackwood was a fairly undistinguished governor in an era where few governors were distinguished, since the legislature has always been the dominant branch of government in the Palmetto State. His reaction to the Great Depression was fairly similar to Herbert Hoover’s, though the General Assembly didn’t give him much room to operate.
Personally, I’d like to see a textile history museum in the Upcountry. I think that before every last vestige of the textile industry and mill communities has disappeared from the area that we should have some kind of site that tells their stories and shows what a working mill and a mill village were like. Reminding people that those workers were an integral part of building this community would, I think, be a worthy addition to the Upstate. And now, before this gets any longer, I yield the soapbox.
-Phillip Stone
Just keep trying to defend Blackwood.
“Chris you mentioned the Horse Creek Valley strike in Aiken I think and Blackwood’s response to this. Some historical accounts of that situation would say that Blackwood sent constables and later the National Guard there in order to prevent violence, not cause it.
Which historical accounts would those be Ryan?
I can cite you book, chapter, page, and paragraph for every statistic I presented in my piece if you’d like. It’s one thing if YOU disagree with my perspective, but quite another to call the historical perspective I’m presenting biased without presenting some other historical view from a reputable source. Don’t let a little thing like lack of historical proof stop you from holding your own opinion though.
“Blackwood may have felt the need to mobilize the National Guard to ‘keep the peace’.”
Oh so close there Ryan. Blackwood actually called out the National Guard before any other state governor involved with the strike. In fact, he was more militantly anti-union than any other governor, empowering sheriffs to deputize citizens, declaring martial law, etc. None of this is my opinion, it’s well documented historical fact. Now I suppose if you have some “super-secret” historical record that I’m not privy to, now would be the time to spill it. Otherwise, you’re just proving you have no idea what you’re talking about.
Phillip: I actually agree with what you wrote more than I disagree with it. I would say though, it’s interesting that in these class conflicts–I also agree we’re far too reluctant to talk about them–it’s always the workers who end up filling the body bags. Kinda makes it hard for me to assign any blame for the killings with them if you get my drift.
I never said that Blackwood was as culpable as those who were actually there doing the shooting in Honea Path that day, but with his militant anti-labor stance and his horrible decision to deputize “ordinary citizens” who turned out to be mostly a bunch of anti-union reactionaries he set the stage for what happened.
That could be passed off as a simple–if deadly–error in judgment if it weren’t for the fact that he never so much as tried to prosecute those responsible for those murders. All he cared about it seems from the record, was breaking the strike at all cost. That is what makes Blackwood truly unforgivable in my book.
I totally agree with you that a lot of people failed the textile workers in ‘34. I tried to say as much in my OP. FDR betrayed a promise to working people by not enforcing the law and allowing the powerful anti-worker interests to break a lawful strike, and that part of this equation shouldn’t be forgotten either.
In the end, it would be foolish to try to lay all the blame for what happened in SC in ‘34 on Blackwood, but as governor he fanned the flames of violence and when that violence took the lives of those who fought only for what was right, he did nothing. I will not forget that, and I will not allow others to try to hide that fact with equivocations either.
As for me calling Blackwood a “monster”, that’s my opinion on the man and I won’t apologize for it. Others are free to look at the information available and make their own judgments, though I’d note that no historian I’ve read so far has called Blackwood anything better than an anti-labor incompetent.
I appreciate your thoughtful comment Phillip.
Hi, Mr. George,
This is probably late, but I thought I would add my 2 cents. I realize this is a blog, but I find the tone of this post to be needlessly confrontational. The Preservation Trust’s clear role is to restore properties in designated historic districts. Since its inception, as Rebecca pointed out, it has been consistent in opposing the demolition of houses in Hampton Heights. The Carlisle Street and Hydrick Street efforts stretched the Trust to the limits of its capabilities, and the success of Carlisle and (ongoing) Hydrick are the product of initiative, hard work, and concern for this community.
As for 232 Hydrick, the fact that a former governor of the state lived in the house adds to the house’s signficance. Period. That this fact could aid the Trust in working to prevent its demolition in no way suggests that the Trust is attempting to whitewash another shameful aspect of this state’s history. As Phillip points out above, the history is there to be read. It’s not a secret. For the Trust to function, it must resell the houses that it renovates. Why expect it to do something out of its purview that works against its actual purpose? (“Buy 232 Hydrick. A governor once lived here! But please be aware, he was a real a-hole of a governor!”) The Trust is not committing an “intentional omission of facts” just because you assert that it is doing so. For the Trust, the relevant detail is that a former governor of the state lived there. You see, that detail touches on the house. And the houses are the focus. If Trust employees promised to include information about Blackwood’s record as governor on the website, then fine, but I don’t believe there was any historical or ethical imperative for them to do so. (I can’t comment on the SHJ articles, which I haven’t seen.)
Besides, it seems to me that two important bits of information should have tamped down your (f)ire a little bit: 1) the previously mentioned point that the Trust opposes demolition of historic houses in HH–not just 232 Hydrick; and 2) that the Trust has worked hard to get a mill village to be declared a locally designated historic district (in which the Trust could then operate). But neither of these points seems to have made a difference to you, which I don’t really understand.
I am also a member of the Trust board, and although I have missed many meetings lately and have been no more involved in conversations about 232 Hydrick than Betsy has, my recollections of our discussions of that property are just as Betsy described them. I should add as well that I’m also a historian and a (currently inactive) member of the United Food and Commercial Workers Union, and yet I don’t find the Trust’s actions to be as questionable as you do.
Finally, I have to ask about the “HH mafia” dig. What does that even mean? I live in HH, and I’ve been on the neighborhood association board. Am I a don? A stool pigeon? What am I missing here? If we HH residents seem a bit thin-skinned to you, you might step back for a moment and contemplate the thousands of hours of work that some of the commenters above have put into trying to improve Hampton Heights and Spartanburg. In comparison to others, I’ve done only a tiny fraction of that sort of work, but I’ve been involved enough to know that it usually feels like a sisyphean slog up a very steep hill. It doesn’t help when those who might be (should be/are) our friends throw rocks at us.
I’m just going to say before I start this comment, that these will be my last words on this particular topic here on the Spark. I’ve learned some pretty interesting things and I have to say, I’m pretty discouraged by all of them. Deep down these may have been things I should have known all along, but I suspect I’ve allowed a sort of foolish optimism cloud my thinking lately when I should have been smart enough to know better. I just want to say thanks to everyone who has commented on this piece, even those who attacked me personally. You’ve helped me see things as they are instead of how I wanted to see them.
“Not in a derogatory way by any means, but does your previous employment affect your judgment and reasoning in this matter?”
I didn’t see this until now (probably because it was part of a giant comment with no paragraph breaks. The “Enter” key is your friend and you should use him David), but I assume you’re referring to the fact that I’ve worked pretty much my entire life in some form of blue-collar employment. To that I would say: Why wouldn’t I let that background influence my perspective?
Socio-economic class plays a huge role in everyone’s perspective on this and I’m certainly not immune. Honestly, I care more about defending the working class–who in my opinion have been wronged in stunning ways for centuries in this county, state and nation–than I care about pretty much anything else. At the end of the day, I am a factory worker who’s also the son of a factory worker. I have seen first hand, the helplessness and hopelessness of that life. Blue-collar workers in America walk a razor’s edge perched just over the bottomless pit of poverty every day. They don’t worry about GMO’s or CFL light bulbs–not that those things aren’t worthwhile–because they’re too busy worrying about whether or not they’ll have a job next week or next month or next year.
They don’t live in fear of falling down a rung or two on the economic ladder, they live in fear of falling off of it.
They live with the constant threat that tomorrow morning when they wake up, the company may decide to pack things up and move to China, or some other country where the underclass is even more beaten down than they are. They live with wages that have been falling since the late 70’s. When the plant manager brings them into a room and tells them their health care premiums are going up at the same time their hours are going down, they cut corners if they have any left to cut, and if they don’t they’ll cut anyway. They watch as the state cuts their kids’ school’s funding and they have to just take it, because they can’t afford to send their little ones to private schools just down the street.
I’m also very much aware that I have had it far better than those blue-collar workers from generations past, and in fact it’s precisely because of things like the Honea-Path massacre, or the Ludlow Massacre, or the thousands of others who lost their lives fighting for a fair shake. My life has been easier than theirs was because of their sacrifices, and I will stand up for their memories to show my respect.
So in answer to your question David, yes my social class influences my thinking very much on the topic we’ve been discussing, but no more than your upper-middle class, white-collar, gentrification-minded, yuppie class influences your thinking. Hope that clarifies things for you.
To everyone else, I just want to reiterate that I have no particular problem with the Preservation Trust. I think they do fine work in HH. I have a problem with precisely ONE thing they’ve done, but to read some of the comments here, I’ve declared a jihad on historic preservation here in HH. To those people I say, bravo! You’ve managed to shout me down without actually dealing with my concerns. That’s no small feat in my book.
I find it interesting to say the least that a group of people who’ve been so quick to applaud my critical eye in the past, would turn so instantly sour when that critical eye is looking at one of the “clique’s” pet projects. I wouldn’t say it’s going to stop me from writing about whatever I want to write about in the future, but it does add a new perspective to my particular Spartanburg experience.
Again though, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to comment on this piece. Your candor has been…enlightening.
Well, if Phillip was concerned he would be beating a dead horse, I certainly must be guilty, but I’ve just now stumbled upon this and I want to chime in.
I can only echo and affirm the previous comments that historical preservation is extremely hard work in Spartanburg. This area has a long history of tearing down buildings, only to regret doing so decades later. Tim was quite accurate in characterizing this work as a “sisyphean slog.” There are so many unceasing forces in opposition that it can be extremely draining and discouraging. One of the only consolations you can get besides actually saving something is the companionship and encouragement of friends and colleagues who share your concerns.
Mr. George (that sounds so distant and unfriendly, mind if I call you Christopher or Chris?), I suspect that the folks on the “save it” side of this issue (myself included) DO appreciate a passionate, critical eye who has taken up the cause of working class issues in this community. Even when it is directed at them. But, like you, these are people who work tirelessly at the causes that interest them. So using forceful language to criticize how they do their work (which is only, fundamentally, saving, restoring, and selling houses in historic districts) is bound to stir up emotions and cause unnecessary divisions.
I would make the argument that preserving Blackwood’s house does more to preserve the memory of the 1934 strikes than tearing it down would. It might feel good for the folks affected and enraged by that terrible episode to smash up a modest 90-year old house. But when it’s gone, it’s just an empty lot, or a tiny, un-utilized park with a plaque, or a new building. People are more likely to tell stories about the places still standing that the spots where something used to be.
Let’s set aside all the miscommunication and misdirected anger and make Blackwood’s legacy as a bad governor part of the lore of the neighborhood. That adds even more to the 1930 election story that’s already a part of Hydrick Street.