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
Wow. I just…wow. I can’t put into words the anger that this instills in me. It makes me realize that I know nothing of my city or state’s real history.
I think it’s absolutely ridiculous to preserve that home after hearing this. Preserving the name of a murderer is ridiculous and unacceptable.
The PT does great work in our community and I, for one, am very thankful for their presence. To insinuate they’re somehow bad or uncaring for saving a nasty Governor’s home bothers me a bit. It is their mission to promote the ‘restoration and revitalization of Spartanburg’s locally designated historic districts and properties’ not sit in judgment of history’s characters and decide who should or should not be remembered.
I’m sure they’d LOVE to save some of our textile villages if they had the support of all involved to get them designated historic districts but that is a task in itself.
At the end of the day, Ibra Blackwood was the Governor of SC. Good or bad, the people of this state elected him to that office. The more we learn about his history, the more we learn about the political climate of our state at that time. No, it’s not pretty but we can’t pretend it didn’t exist even though I’m sure a lot of us are disappointed to learn that one of the Governor’s from Spartanburg was this guy. If it weren’t for this house being renovated no one would have ever bothered to go learn about Ibra Blackwood despite the fact all of us should be upset by his actions. We should be upset about a whole lot of things from the textile era.
As for the exorbitant cost of renovating this home, I agree this is the downer part of the deal. I can’t help but wonder how if this could have easily been avoided had this homeowner been made to fix his home years ago. This is personally what I find the most upsetting. For me, it goes back to the slumlord problem in our City and using the systems in place to keep these property owners in check. People lived in this house in raw sewage and neighbors dealt with rats, etc and neighbors voiced concerns but apparently not much was done. That is unacceptable. I hope the people in this City will not only get involved with saving our historic properties, I also hope our City will start taking measures to protect them and our neighborhoods from these sorts of problems and make it difficult for slumlords to take advantage of citizens, destroy our properties and harm neighborhoods. There are codes and ordinances in place to help prevent properties from getting to this condition and property owners need to be held accountable. These proactive measures might prevent spending fortunes on renovating or demolishing properties at the taxpayer’s expense as well as protecting our neighborhoods in the long run.
I will not disagree with the writer’s historical account of the Honea Path textile mill strike nor will I try to romanticize the late Governor Blackwood. I think though that most historians and preservation types do not put a high premium on their personal feelings about a particular event or person in history in deciding whether or not to give it historical significance. Some might say that every Civil War monument in the South should be bulldozed because it represents a time where white men were able to enslave black men. Some would say that every statue and reference to Strom Thurmond in SC should be gone because he was a segregationist. Even Spartanburg’s most distinguished public servant, the late James F. Byrnes, who served as a Congressman/Senator/Secretary of War/Supreme Court Justice/Secretary of State/Governor, and who has numerous momuments around the state (and history books notes his restored residence in Converse Heights–now a private residence) said he didn’t want to live to see the day when black children would ever walk the halls of Byrnes High School in Duncan. Should we write him out of our history as well? How come we preserve old plantations in Charleston and open them to tourists. Don’t those represent the darkest portion of American history, so why preserve them? And didn’t Thomas Jefferson own slaves, yet hundreds of thousands visit Monticello each year…
On the other side, some might ask how we as a nation could build a library and museum in Little Rock, Arkansas to honor a president who was impeached, who committed adultery in office and possibly obstructed justice? Or why a library to a president who resigned in disgrace after being part of the Watergate plot.
These are just some examples as to why historians generally do not let their personal emotions cloud their judgement in deciding what is worthy of historical preservation.
Our City has a rich heritage of tearing down historic structures and we have destroyed so much of our past that I’m saddened by your comments on this issue. Most of the time, I have agreed with your analysis of issues and events, however I must part with you ideologically in this case…to tear down a historically significant structure simply because the person who lived there was not the kind of governor/person we would liked him to have been is to have a tunnel vision of history. The early 20th century was a horrible and frightening time not only in our state’s history, but the entire nation. Contrary to your suggestions, we must preserve homes and structures like this so the history (good or bad) can be passed on to the next generation. For instance, you have written about it on the Spark now and have brought attention to a very horrible time in South Carolina, and some terrible decisions one man made while he led our state. If the wrecking ball were to have flown, then we would not even be having this discussion. History must be preserved so that we can learn from the past. If we obliterate the artifacts of history, then we will surely forget the untoward events and gloss over our past, never learning from the mistakes that have been made. Now we have the opportunity to have this discussion and realize that sweeping things under the rug is not the answer to understanding the human condition. Of course the Preservation Trust wouldn’t want to take on a project of this magnitude were it not for the fact that a governor was the builder and lived in the structure. That makes it significant and something to learn from. In South Carolina we have an abundance of history full of hatred and violence, shame and foul deeds. We should remember them all so that we know where we came from and work towards making better decisions regarding our governor’s and all of our elected officials. In this state if we were to let the wrecking ball fall on all of the places of ill fated events and horrible injustices, we wouldn’t have much left unfortunately. Thanks for bringing this information to light and let’s not encourage our already bulldozer ready populous to tear down any more historic structures.
Ok, this was Chris, not Steve…same goes though…i’ve liked your writings as well…apologies for the oversight.
Tammy: Obviously I agree that the Preservation Trust does excellent work. In fact, it’s probably at least fairly likely that I’ll be buying a home from the trust myself at some point in the future.
Part of my problem about the restoration of the Blackwood bungalow is that they know the history of Ibra Blackwood yet they have yet to mention it in any of their literature or any of the articles done on the home.
I know they know about it, because I’m the one who informed them about it in an e-mail to Kristi Webb back in October. She assured me that in the future they would at least mention the strike and Blackwood’s role. I’m still waiting for that mention.
At that time, I thought preserving the home was worthy even though Blackwood was despicable because I didn’t know the extent of the damage to the home nor the price to fix it. I don’t doubt that the trust would renovate a mill workers home, but you can’t make me believe they’d go to this length to do it if Blackwood hadn’t been governor. Otherwise, how do you explain the homes in HH they’ve allowed to be demolished over the years? I don’t believe that the Blackwood bungalow deserves special treatment. Treating his home differently implies that he was a man worthy of remembering. He is not.
Ryan: Monticello is a historical landmark built by the the author of the Declaration of Independence. Are you really trying to compare Jefferson to Blackwood?
The same goes for all your other examples. Blackwood’s bungalow is being restored as a private home, not a monument. Every time I’ve been to Charleston, I’ve been inundated with the history of the area. Normally, it’s pretty honest history too. The parts about slavery aren’t conveniently left out in order to make the place more palatable. If the idea was to turn it into some sort of museum that presented a fairly balanced view of who Blackwood was–much like Monticello does for Jefferson–I’d be totally fine with that. In fact, I’d encourage anything that provided an honest historical picture of the man.
In fact all the faults you mentioned with leaders above are common knowledge preciscely because there’s been an honest historical retelling with no attempt to hide anything. I may be wrong on this, but I doubt many people here in Spartanburg know about Blackwood’s true legacy, and if the trust had its way, they’d never find out. That’s the real problem here.
That’s the problem. What we have here is the Preservation Trust intentionally ignoring uncomfortable parts of Governor Blackwood’s legacy in order to make restoring the home look better. When I first contacted them in regards to the home, they pleaded ignorance, which at the time was perfectly plausible, now though they obviously know who the man was, but they still don’t feel the need to say who the man was. That’s whitewashing of history by a group seeking to benefit from a former governor’s name while ignoring that former governor’s actions.
I have mixed feelings on the topic as well. If the home is going to be restored primarily because of its connection to a former Governor — something I’m lukewarm on anyways — I do think it’s important that we know exactly what kind of politician and administrator the man was. Him being, as Chris puts it, “a monster,” is an important thing to own up to, just like Spartanburg’s history with the atomic bomb is important.
(In case you don’t know, James F. Byrnes, Truman’s Secretary of State, made the decision to recommend the use of the atom bomb on Japan from his home in Spartanburg. Ever wonder why it’s called “Sparkle City?”)
“Otherwise, how do you explain the homes in HH they’ve allowed to be demolished over the years?”
The Trust is only 10 years old and isn’t responsible for the empty lots throughout HH where homes used to stand. That organization is the culmination of neighbors coming together in hopes of stopping stuff like that. While I can’t give a definitive numbers of homes that have been demolished since the Trust’s inception, I imagine it is much less than it would have been had they not been in existence.
Tammy: Again, I agree that the trust’s mission is a good one. I know that many of the homes demolished in HH were demolished before they came into existence, but some have been demolished since then as well. You didn’t answer my question though. Would they be working so hard on this home if it wasn’t the home of a former governor?
Blackwood was an ineffective one-term governor who was defeated in his reelection bid largely because of his response to the strike. His crimes are so egregious that they should be the centerpiece of any discussion about his legacy, and that includes the home he built in HH, just as discussions about any other historical figure should always be honest.
I’ll frame this one more way for everyone. If Blackwood had committed his crimes with a pistol instead of the governor’s pen, would we give a damn about restoring his home? I think the answer to that question gets right to the heart of the classism that sits at the root of this problem. For me, a criminal is a criminal whether he committed his crime with a pen or a gun.
You say that the Preservation Trust would likely not be interested in preserving this house if it was not the former home of a governor, and that this represents some sort of classism. But you are wanting “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.” Would you be arguing that this be done to a historic home in your neighborhiid if it was not the home of a former governor that you have disdain for?
To your point about Blackwood’s home being restored as a private home and not a museum or monument, the same is true of the former James F. Byrnes home on Otis Blvd. in Converse Heights. It is pictured in several history books about the area but is still a private home. There is no historical marker near the home. And most people in Spartanburg don’t know who James F. Byrnes was. I went to his high school in Duncan and they didn’t even teach us about him. It wasn’t until I got into a SC History class in college that I learned.
I agree that the Preservation Trust should erect a historical marker at the home detailing the history of Gov. Blackwood, including the Honea Path strike. Not sure if this is customary or allowed if the home is to be a private residence, but I wish they would do the same thing at the Byrnes house as well.
Ryan: What you consider classism in seeing Blackwood’s home demolished by the descendants of strikers whose deaths he’s responsible for I call poetic justice. Of course, I was actually engaging in a little hyperbole there when I wrote that, and I know nothing like that could or would ever happen. Still though, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a large part of me that would cheer if such a thing were allowed to happen.
I have disdain for the man, and it’s easy enough to see why. Are you arguing that there’s some reason not to hold Blackwood in disdain?
James Byrnes was guilty of holding opinions that are offensive today. The same is true of nearly all southern whites at the time. Opinions are far different from actions. Blackwood isn’t guilty of just hating the mill worker class, he’s guilty of aiding in their suppression. As far as the atomic bomb stuff that Steve mentioned, that’s absolutely true. The difference though, is that–rightly or wrongly–the decision to drop the bomb was almost universally heralded in America at the time. Only later did we rightly start to second guess. To answer your question though, I believe the history of James Byrnes should be taught honestly and candidly, without omitting the bad parts or playing up the good parts.
Blackwood’s handling of the strike was loudly criticized at the time, and is largely responsible for his lose in his reelection bid. Even in the 30′s he was seen as an anti-worker extremist. His history as an enabler of murder should not be discarded just so those of us in HH can say we have a former governor’s home in our neighborhood, and going to such great trouble to restore the home of a man who–unlike Byrnes or anyone else you mentioned–did nothing substantially or even arguably good for our state just because he held the office of governor is classism. I’ll say it again, if Blackwood had committed his crimes with a gun instead of the governor’s pen. We wouldn’t give a damn about his home.
Thanks for the info, Chris. I knew nothing of Blackwood’s past and dream of the poetic justice you speak about. How cool would that be! Hurray for hyperbole and the escape it gives us from reality.
I used to live (rent) in HH and it’s come a long way since 2000. I like the renovated houses and cheer the beautification efforts, but I also think the PT is treated with kids’ gloves when it comes to accountability. The mainstream press is largely silent when, for instance, a homeowner sues the PT. Where’s the news? Where’s the info?
Back to the point at hand, I also question the term “restoration” … I’m sure there’s a qualitative definition out there somewhere but it sounds like when finished, that house will be more of a recreation or its former self than a restoration. This makes your moral argument against it even stronger in my opinion. Spartanburg is tripping over itself to hang onto a name, not even a building.
“The mainstream press is largely silent when, for instance, a homeowner sues the PT.”
For clarity, we’d probably cover it at the Spark, if we knew about it and it was somehow relevant to the larger community. But no one has ever contacted me about this in the ten months or so the site has been online.
I think you are focusing on the wrong issue…Classism. Classism is the reality of capitalism; you cannot turn your nose up and act like we live in a utopian society where class doesn’t exist. Greater value is thrust upon those individuals who have held the office of governor, no matter how ineffective or terrible their actions. You too should see the importance of maintaining the history so that in another hundred years another Chris George might learn the horrible story of how the south dealt with the issue of unionization, and then share it with others much like you have done. Wouldn’t you prefer the real history to survive? Or should we also tear down other historic sites of lesser significance when the action or event that defines it as unique is not within our accepted social ideology? We would have a very dim view of history were we to forget the man is not the issue…the historic significance of the property is tremendous to this city. Just because we don’t like part of the history doesn’t mean we should ignore its significance. As a side note…you dismiss his other contributions and significance to our city and our state. He was all of the following: the first green governor – the creation of the South Carolina Public Service Authority had the effect of creating one of the first Hydro-electric plants in SC. Graduate of Furman, Graduated with a law degree from Wofford College, Practiced law in Spartanburg and at age 24 was elected to the SC house of representatives. He also worked as a tax collector for the Internal Revenue Service, then became the Solicitor for the Seventh Judicial Circuit of South Carolina. He was also notable for having one of the most contested democratic primaries in our state’s history, then he ran unopposed in the gubernatorial race which has the distinction of having the second lowest turnout for a gubernatorial race in SC. All of this information is part of his story (or our history). The home in which he lived here was a basic bungalow with no real indication that he led an elitist or upper class life, but that he was a rather Spartan man (no pun intended). I think that it is important to note that he came from rural Spartanburg County, like many of our current residents. I did not know the man and I cannot judge his entire worth by his mere 4 years in office and his dealings with one of the most tumultuous moments in the history of the factory workers in our country. Was he wrong to appoint deputies without qualification who went on to kill innocent people?…yes…maybe that’s why he left office and came back to Spartanburg to practice law. Then again maybe you’re right…about him…I don’t know, and I don’t know that anyone will know the full story, but at least we have one…let’s preserve his home so folks a hundred years from now can find out these things as well. I do know that we shouldn’t just give up on preserving our history. Not in a derogatory way by any means, but does your previous employment affect your judgment and reasoning in this matter? Would you have the Texas school book depository torn down as well? It fell into disrepair, maybe not to the same extent, but the City of Dallas could very easily have torn it down as a shame of the city. Would you have thought that needed to be saved? We cannot pick and choose our history based on our ideology. Our history determines what is significant. Each home that has been demolished in the neighborhood (I’m only aware of two) has been in much worse shape (foundation wise) than even this house. It is the goal of the PT to preserve Spartanburg’s homes which are in the locally designated historic district. They are doing so with great passion and care…to see someone attack the effort of historic preservation is a great injustice to me and I would hope you stop doing so as not to drag down those who are making a huge impact on our neighborhood and our City. Were it not for the efforts of the Preservation Trust, I’m not even sure the Spark would exist.
Great post, David. I agree with you. There is good and bad to most figures of historical significance. The OP only presents his interpretation of events. Is it even possible that a South Carolina historian who has studied the Honea Path textile riots has a different interpretation on Governor Blackwood’s role in the events? Sure it is, and you don’t have to agree with him if he does. I’ve had friends from places like Wisconsin and Ohio come to SC to work on Democratic campaigns and could not even comprehend why South Carolina would ever honor a “racist segregationist” like Strom Thurmond. Just like some Repubs can’t comprehend why the Democrats allow a former Klan member to be in the Senate. People sometimes fail to realize the context of historical events. The past is the one thing in life that you cannot ever change. It is better to learn from the mistakes of the past.
The reason saving the Blackwood home is such a high priority is because it is ONE of THREE governors’ homes on tiny little Hydrick Street. That is an extraordinary situation. Currently, all three governors’ homes are still standing. To tear down one of the set is to diminish the long term historical value of the street. For this reason alone, it is worth the extra effort.
I wonder if there’s any possibility of turning the house into a museum about the 1934 strike?
Also, has anyone seen this film? I think I heard about it on NPR, but I’ve never seen it. I wonder if the library has a copy?
http://icarusfilms.com/cat97/t-z/the_upri.html
“Would you have the Texas school book depository torn down as well? It fell into disrepair, maybe not to the same extent, but the City of Dallas could very easily have torn it down as a shame of the city.”
Perfect question. My answer: if it was going to be used to aggrandize Lee Harvey Oswald…yes it should be torn down. If it’s used to tell the honest story–as is currently the case–then no it shouldn’t. See the distinction?
Also since you brought it up, how does history remember Lee Harvey Oswald? Seems like an awful thing to do to remember a man by that one action don’t you think? He did far more in his life than kill JFK right? That is the argument you’re making for Blackwood right now is it not? Oswald is judged by his most lasting impact as he should be. Blackwood should be judged by his most lasting impact as well. Simple as that really
That’s my point about the Blackwood home. I see you’ve gone to great lengths to point out some good that he did. I have to admit, I got a good chuckle out of you calling him a “green governor”–straight from the trust’s literature about him–because of the creation of hydro-electric power in SC. You should read up on hydro’s effect on the environment before applying that moniker to Blackwood.
And of course trying to justify his actions by casting doubt on his motives is priceless. Are you on the trust’s payroll David? Come On! He not only created the situation that allowed the murders to take place, he didn’t even attempt to hold those who actually pulled the triggers responsible. I think if you’re looking for his feelings on the matter, his record speaks pretty loudly.
Do you really have to defend everything that the trust or the HH neighbors think deserves defending? I really do appreciate the efforts of the trust in HH. I probably wouldn’t be living here without them, but I don’t have to blindly follow every move they make without the slightest bit of criticism. I am perfectly capable of thinking for myself on the matter, and I don’t need the “bragging rights” of Blackwood’s bungalow, especially if we’re going to whitewash his bloody historical record.
As far as preserving the history surrounding Blackwood’s term. I don’t see the connection to preserving a home he barely even lived in. There have been several books written on the ’34 strike, and Blackwood figures prominently in all of them. Where do you think I got my information? Those books coupled with a little digging around the library’s microfilm from the era was all I needed. The home was pretty much irrelevant to the search.
You want to preserve the history of the strike? Let’s start a committee–here and now–to build a monument to the striking workers of Spartanburg County that Blackwood turned his back on. Let’s have a monument to the textile workers of that era. You know, the workers Blackwood thought so little of. Don’t hide behind historical preservation to justify restoring Blackwood’s home. Anyone interested in starting a movement to build such a monument? Contact me if you are. I’ll build a web site for it to get the ball rolling if anyone shows any interest. To hell with Blackwood’s memory. The workers he wronged are the ones who deserve remembering.
Lucas: Thanks for the comment. Good to know I’ve got a few sympathetic readers out there on this one.
Haskell: I know the movie you’re talking about. If I’m not mistaken, the library has a copy on VHS.
I wish turning the house into a museum about the ’34 strike was an option. It’s not, but you’d get no complaints from me about it if it were.
I am of a mixed mind when it comes to restoring old properties whether someone famous lived there or not. There is of course value in retoring and preserving part of our history in the buildings where folks lived and worked. Their contributions to society and history at large, whether good or bad are often things we can draw lessons from today from.
However there is always a great deal of money not only attempting to keep the original integrity of the structure, but also bringing it up to modern building codes, a difficult feat indeed. I just wonder if an otherwise condemnable building is worth the money and effort, just because someone famous once lived there. Being a thrifty soul, and also having once chosen to walk away from a house that had a bit of history where we used to live, I hesitate seeing the greater good.
Shelley (or anyone):
There were three governors who lived on Hydrick Street? Which ones? The governors who were from or lived in Spartanburg that I can think of right now were Russell, Byrnes, Johnston, and Blackwell.
Chris, thank you for doing a follow up on this issue. I think it’s one of the most interesting things I’ve learned about the history of our state. It’s truly refreshing to learn something about the place you live in that goes largely unknown–and for obvious reasons.
I think the house has done all it’s going to do in preserving any history up to this point. Because of it, and thanks to Chris’s research and willingness to cover the issue, we now know the history of Ibra Blackwood; a man, who used his political power to ruthlessly persecute mill workers. Who was responsible for the murders of 7 mill workers. He ordered his men to “shoot to kill”. His deputies finished off some of the workers when they were already injured on the ground. Seems to me that’s all anyone should ever remember a man like Ibra Blackwood for.
He helped sustain the poorest of working conditions so the mill owners could save a buck. Unionization became a “hush thing” as an old man put it in The Uprising ’34 documentary. You didn’t even speak of the word. These people had nothing else, so out of fear of violence—or even bloodshed—they stayed quiet, obeyed, and worked.
All they wanted was controlled work hours, minimum wages, and to abolish stretch-out. This was a time when people were often required up to sixty hours of work a week for around $12—that’s $12 a week. Some of that pay was of course taken out to cover the jacked-up rent of the mill houses the workers lived in. The corruption of these mills went on for decades.
When first reading this article, I thought that in place of the home, there should be some sort of monument honoring the people of Honea-path from September 6, 1934, and all of the mill workers who were subject to this injustice. I think this would serve our history much more than an old house about to fall in that Blackwood barely lived in.
Chris, I respect your views and really don’t want to argue. But, the Trust is not to blame for who Blackwood was. He was who he was none of us can control that…but he was a governor of our state and yes, that is important. I can’t change that no matter how I try to deny his importance. “Governors’ are important regardless of individual interpretation of their actions and it is unique that Spartanburg is home to a few—the good and bad.
The Trust is merely trying to save a house where a governor lived in an effort to promote historic preservation in a City that could care less about history much less historic buildings. They would bulldoze it all if they could. Historic preservation is a REAL struggle in this community hence the reason I guess I’ve been upset about the insinuation that those of us that defend history are defending a character like Blackwood.
No we’re not. We just do what we can to save historic buildings. We’re not ‘kid gloving’ the Trust. We’re not evil people undermining the masses to spend money to further our own evil agenda against the lower classes and their history in an effort to save the history of rich people.
C’mon dude…we can only take on ONE battle at a time. Do we demolish history just to forget about it?
History is history and none of us can change that. Ignore it we can. That is up to us. I have no problem with the Trust sharing ALL info about Blackwood. Why not? Tell it all. Saving the house is not about him being good or bad in my opinion or yours…what makes it interesting is that it is a house where a guy lived that the people of SC AT THAT TIME elected to public office. Yeah, he may not be PC in 2009 but back then…he was. WHY was that?
Maybe we can learn from that. I hope we do. We still treat blue collar workers the same as we did then. Like crap…. If creating a movement around this house to draw attention to the inequities of it all will make a difference…I’m all for it. Let’s do it.
We’re already talking more about this issue than we ever would have JUST because of this house. It only proves the importance of what the Trust and like organizations are doing. History IS important if we like it or not.
Well said, Tammy! I think most people agree with you.
Sorry Tammy, we’re just not going to agree on this one. 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. A person is worth remembering because of his or her actions and accomplishments, and by that standard I don’t find much worth celebrating about Ibra Blackwood. The trust, for its part, has gone out of its way NOT to mention the bad parts about him. It’s surreal to me that I’m the one being accused of not respecting history when THEY’RE the ones omitting inconvenient historical facts.
My hope in writing this piece to begin with was two-fold. One, that I would get information about Blackwood out to the public and two, that I would force the Preservation Trust to at the very least acknowledge who the man was that built the house they’re so jazzed about rebuilding. You should know, that if they don’t acknowledge it in the future. I won’t stop. I will use whatever pulpit I have to continue to bring attention to the facts that they choose to ignore.
I support history. In fact, this whole post has been about a failure to acknowledge history. Hell, I’m the only one actually TELLING the history surrounding Blackwood. That’s the whole point. Preserving that home has nothing to do with history. It has everything to do with putting a feather in the cap of both the trust and the HH neighborhood. The trust proves that when they intentionally omit Blackwood’s legacy as a butcher. If it were about history, then honest history is what we would have had from them, and I never would’ve written this piece in the first place.
It’s not about being PC in 2009. Those murders were wrong in 1934, and many people at that time said so. Why can’t the Preservation Trust say so now?
The home is no more special than any other, and any other home in such disrepair would’ve been demolished. Blackwood was a monster, and governor or not, a monster doesn’t deserve this kind of special treatment. Blackwood’s home does not deserve to be saved because Blackwood himself is not worthy of the trouble. I’ll write it one more time–the last time I hope–if Blackwood had committed his crimes with a gun instead of with a governor’s pen, we wouldn’t give a damn about his home.
The people who lost their lives because of Governor Blackwood deserve to be remembered, as well as the people who risked what little they had only for the chance at a better life. Those people lost big because of Blackwood, and we can call it ancient history or we can try to shove the truth under a rug, but all that does is disrespect the memory of those who died and the struggle they died for.
It saddens to me that so much time and effort is going into this project when for the price the trust is spending, they could probably renovate at least 3 of the old mill homes. Even now it seems, almost 75 years later, the oppressive mill-owner oligarchy that ran things back then still gets more respect than those whom they oppressed.
“It’s surreal to me that I’m the one being accused of not respecting history when THEY’RE the ones omitting inconvenient historical facts.”
“I would force the Preservation Trust to at the very least acknowledge who the man was that built the house they’re so jazzed about rebuilding.”
I’m not sure that is even a function or role of the Preservation Trust. The mission of the Trust from their website is to “promote the restoration and revitalization of Spartanburg’s locally designated historic districts and properties. Since its inception, the Trust has restored homes, increased homeownership and created greater community awareness of historic preservation.” I think that restoring historic homes is just another way of saying restoring older homes that have been in existence for a relatively long period of time–not necessarily a home of “historical significance”.
“If it were about history, then honest history is what we would have had from them, and I never would’ve written this piece in the first place.”
I think there is a difference between the Preservation Trust of Spartanburg and the Spartanburg County Historical Association. I think if you are wanting to give the community a history lesson about the evils of Ibra Blackwood, it is more the mission of a historical society and not a trust that restores old homes.
“I’ll write it one more time–the last time I hope–if Blackwood had committed his crimes with a gun instead of with a governor’s pen, we wouldn’t give a damn about his home.”
Again, I think the Trust would be interested in restoring the home regardless of who lived in it. Their mission is not just to restore the homes of famous people who may or may not have committed atrocities in their lifetime. The house would still be a historic home even if a nobody lived in it.
“Blackwood was a monster, and governor or not, a monster doesn’t deserve this kind of special treatment. Blackwood’s home does not deserve to be saved because Blackwood himself is not worthy of the trouble.”
That is your opinion. Some of us share Tammy’s opinion that the home of any governor is worth preserving, even if we went as far as you do with calling him a “monster”.
“The people who lost their lives because of Governor Blackwood deserve to be remembered, as well as the people who risked what little they had only for the chance at a better life.”
They are remembered. There is a beautiful monument in Honea Path, where the textile riot actually occurred, dedicated to these workers and their families.
Chris,
Again, I’m glad you’re concerned…we just disagree on some points. If you want to get more involved with historic preservation you can look into serving on the Trust Board or the Architectural Design and Historic Review Board (aka HARB) with the City. While neither regulates historical content they come as close as you can get in that they try to take part in deciding the fate of historical structures in our community.
In July the HARB will be reviewing historic standards and preservation guidelines for the Beaumont Mills community. That’s a mill village for those of you that don’t know. Although the Trust has been a big proponent of them seeking such a designation, the Trust currently can’t work there because the village lacks a historic designation.
This might just be your chance help save those mill homes. All efforts are appreciated when it comes to preserving history.
“Again, I think the Trust would be interested in restoring the home regardless of who lived in it. Their mission is not just to restore the homes of famous people who may or may not have committed atrocities in their lifetime. The house would still be a historic home even if a nobody lived in it.”
Then you haven’t been paying attention to the story Matt. Those involved have admitted that the fact that Blackwood built the home is the reason they’re going to such great lengths to restore the home. The home is in such disrepair that if it wasn’t built by a governor it would’ve been demolished. The contractor admitted as much in the SH-J article. Hope that clears things up for you.
As far as promoting history, the trust in articles in the SH-J and on thier own blog have mentioned various facts about Blackwood’s term as governor. They have yet to mention the strike even though it was the most significant thing Blackwood was involved with. Hence the reason for my article.
I am well aware of the monument in Honea Path but as I wrote in my OP, 9,000 textile workers walked out in Spartanburg County. After the strike–much like other textile workers around the state–many of them were not allowed to return to their jobs, evicted from their homes, and blacklisted to prevent their employment in other mills. To me recognizing the sacrifice of those 9,000 who wanted nothing more than what was legally theirs to have is more important than rebuilding the home of the man most responsible for denying them their rights. I’m sorry to see that so many of those who’ve commented here disagree with me on that.
I can understand both sides of this issue, but I see one other. These homes that are being restored are those that can have a high resale value. Unless I am wrong Hampton Heights at one time was the affluent neighborhood that eventually fell into disrepair? Several of these houses have significance because of their size and former grandeur and partially because people who had more persuasion in the community lived there. Am I not correct here? The trust hopes to at least break even on each project, and if the house had someone of note that once lived there it can up the chances of turning a profit? True?
While I appreciate the efforts of folks like the what is happening with the preservation trust, I don’t agree that it is mostly for historical reasons. It usually seems that the homes of the more affluent are the ones that are deemed significant enough to keep preserved, and that can hope to turn a hefty profit in most areas. Mill homes have a place in southern history, they too have a story to tell. It would be nice if some of them were allowed to tell it as well as the homes of the people who oversaw those mills. But somehow I suspect the structural integrity of a house will play more of a part of a mill house staying erect then it will of a former home of someone more affluent.
Regardless I like the houses I’ve seen in Hampton Heights. I happen to like houses of that style, even though I live in a mundane little ranch.