Light in the Night, Bluffton, SC

Destiny sometimes brings you back to places you’ve been before, moreover, it’s always nice to be invited back to those places. Being invited back often means that you are doing something right. Being invited back is also important because sometimes that message that you bring can be abrasive and uncomfortable to some. That is certainly the case with the message of the Slave Dwelling Project. Slavery is a subject of which most deliberately chose not to engage. On Friday, June 15, 2018, I spent the second night in the slave cabin at the Heyward House in Bluffton, SC. 

Back in 2010, when the Slave Dwelling project was started, the Bluffton Historical Preservation Society was the second site to allow me to spend a night in its slave dwelling, Magnolia Plantation and Gardens in Charleston, SC was the first. My interaction with the Society since that initial stay has been continual. I’ve gone back several times to conduct lectures and once to record audio for a possible future exhibit.

When I conducted my first sleepover at the Heyward House in 2010, I slept alone. At that stage in the project, not enough people believed the idea of spending nights in former slave dwellings was viable, relevant or sustainable. Eight years later, members of the Slave Dwelling Project have spent nights in 21 states and the District of Columbia. One amazing thing is that I don’t sleep in the places alone anymore.

This second visit to sleep in the cabin at the Heyward House would be much different than the first. In addition to the sleepover, there was an offsite visit, an on-site lecture, a campfire discussion and participation in the Bluffton Juneteenth celebration. Also included in the festivities was an event at the newly restored Garvin House. Past visits to the Garvin House always showed potential that this Freedman’s cottage would be restored. All the events were planned meticulously well. 

When I arrived at the Heyward House, workers were putting the finishing touches on a huge firepit made of bricks. The slave cabin was newly restored and had a fresh coat of paint. The interior looked much like it did when I slept there the first time. A period tool display was added to interpret the tools that were used to build the big house. I recalled my encounter with creepy crawlies in this cabin back in 2010 when I slept alone. The cabin only had floor space for three additional people to join me in the sleepover. The rest of the people interested in spending the night on the property with us would sleep in the Heyward House. The opportunity to spend a night in the newly restored Garvin House did not materialize.

My first adventure was presenting offsite to the Love House Learning Academy. As we approached the site, I made my host aware of a similar experience that I had in New London, Connecticut the week before with children of similar ages. That event did not go well. Despite having a brick with fingerprints of the enslaved person who made it, and a quilt with emblems of places I’ve spent nights, I could not hold the student’s attention for long. Well, my fear of having a similar experience was proven wrong. The kids of Love House Learning Academy were attentive from start to finish and they asked some very sensible, relevant and engaging questions during the period immediately after the presentation.

Lunch is not usually something that I write about in these blogs, but when that lunch includes the Mayor, a City Councilmen, and the restaurant owner, it is worth the extra keystrokes. This would be one of three events in which Mayor Lisa Sulka would participate. The City Councilman attended the conversation around the campfire.

The public event at the Heyward House was well attended by a racially diverse group of people. Since I had interacted with the Heyward House several times before, some of the people were loyal fans and had heard the presentation already, so for them, the presentation was just an update. It was great to know that the Slave Dwelling Project has established a loyal following in Bluffton, South Carolina. Many expressed that, if given the opportunity, they would spend a night in the slave cabin. A selected number of the audience members would spend the night with us in the slave cabin and main house. Mayor Sulka was present at the presentation.

I had the pleasure of lighting the first fire in the new firepit. We had a respectable gathering of about fifteen people who participated in the fireside chat. The City Councilman who joined us for lunch was one of the participants, but he would not be sleeping over with us. His presence was more than enough to add relevance to the conversation. About ten of the people around the campfire would spend the night with us in the slave cabin and Heyward House.

Up to this point, all that the Bluffton Historical Preservation Society planned was going along swimmingly. The Juneteenth celebration was another matter. Not that it was not well planned, because it was; not because the infrastructure was not there to support the celebration, because it was; but not very many people showed up to this momentous event. It was unlike the Juneteenth celebration that I attended in New London, Connecticut the week before. 

The Mayor and City Councilman were there to open the ceremony to the sparse number of people who attended. The opening ceremony was held on the porch of the Garvin House that is now restored and open to the public. I, dressed in my Civil War uniform, got to read the Emancipation Proclamation to the audience.

Lastly, I addressed an assembled group of about twenty people inside the Garvin House, a fitting way to end my trip to Bluffton, SC.

Light in the Night
Katie Epps, Bluffton Historical Preservation Society

Very hard. That is the thought that ran through my head as I laid down to sleep on the floor of the Heyward House. I was lucky though because I had the modern convenience of air conditioning. As I assessed my aching back, my thoughts turned to the frank fireside chat earlier in the evening. Twenty people of various ethnic backgrounds and ages discoursed about the current state of racism, profiling, and narrow-mindedness in the United States. In some ways, we as a nation, have grown by leaps and bounds in certain fields but not as decent human beings. On paper, all men (and women) are created equal. The reality is that bigotry resonates in daily life for many people. If you only pay attention to the negative news, you could get a feeling of despair that all hope is lost. However, as I looked around the fire and heard those there echoing my beliefs and feelings, I felt an uplifting of spirit that not all is lost and a sense of camaraderie that together we will change the world.

—Pam Hoel

On June 15, I joined a group of people at the Heyward House in Bluffton, South Carolina to meet with Joseph McGill. Mr. McGill has dedicated his life to preserving African American slave dwellings across the United States. He is the founder of the Slave Dwelling Project, the purpose of which is to “bring historians, students, faculty, legislators, organizations, corporation, artists, and the general public together to educate, collaborate and organize resources to save these important collectibles of our American history” (slavedwellingproject.org, 2018).

I first became aware of Joe’s work when, after my retirement, I started volunteering as a docent at the Heyward House Museum and Welcome Center in Bluffton, SC. (heywardhouse.org). This historic home, with its original slave house and summer kitchen, was built in 1841 and occupied almost continuously since then when the last Heyward’s sold it to the Bluffton Historical Association in 1998.

As a docent, I tell the stories of the House, the Civil War, the Bluffton area, as I give tours of the House. Stories bring to life the House and the people who lived there.

Being a part of the Slave Dwelling Project was an unforgettable experience. As I reflect on my experience, four significant areas stand out in my mind: the conversation around the campfire, spending the night in the slave House, breakfast with others who had stayed overnight in either the slave house or the main house, our breakfast together the next morning, and Joe’s reading of the Emancipation Proclamation later that afternoon.

People of various backgrounds, ages, occupations, and life experiences gathered to share ideas and concerns. We gathered around the campfire to share one another’s stories surrounding issues of the importance of preserving significant historical structures, the experiences and ideas of slavery, why these stories were important in today’s society. Thus, in the fire’s light, we built a community of sharing. We built a community trying to find common ground. I did not agree with everything I heard (probably true of others as well), but we were not there to disagree or try to “prove our point. We were there to explore a topic of interest to all of us. As a communication scholar, I am aware of the power of listening to others stories in order to clarify my own. We often don’t truly listen to others. We are more concerned with what we are going to say in response. Not true this night around the fire. There were silences as we each thought about what others had said. That’s powerful! A gift we gave each other. For me, the experience boiled down to finding common ground on which we could move forward to work together for the betterment of others.

Staying overnight in the slave cabin was an experience that’s difficult for me to put into words. Only three of us slept in the cabin with Joe (he insisted that we call him Joe and not Mr. McGill. We slept in our sleeping bags on the floor with the windows and door open. It was a very warm night, but there were cross breezes and as the night progressed it became quite cool. I had a tough time going to sleep. I listened to the night noises as I thought of people who had lived there. What were their thoughts at the end of the day? What did they think of the owners of the house? What were their joys? Their sorrows? Their fears? Sleep was slow in coming, and yet, peaceful.

The next morning, we met upstairs in the Heyward House for breakfast and to talk about our experiences of the night before. I was reminded of the old hymn “Let us break bread together” and how eating together is another way to find common ground.

Finally, there was something almost sacred in hearing Joe read the Emancipation Proclamation in his Civil War uniform. I am ashamed to admit that I had never read it. Why was it not required reading in our history classes?

“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.”…..Erin Morganstern THE NIGHT CIRCUS

Joe McGill’s visit to the Heyward House 6/15/18
Kelly Graham Executive Director Bluffton Historical Preservation Society

The flame started slowly and then grew as it crept through the stacked logs in the pit. The first fire in the fire pit on Common Ground at the Heyward House had been symbolically lit by Joe McGill. The flames that leaped through the dry oak logs were metaphors for the ideas and expressions during the conversation that would follow. For the next two hours, we sat in a circle, staring into that fire and speaking openly with each other about the issues of slavery’s impact on culture today. Stories were shared with friends who had gathered for a singular purpose: to continue a dialogue about slavery in America, then and now.

We numbered twenty – just enough to sit around the huge fire pit in a circle of chairs. Because it was a warm June evening, we didn’t really need a fire; but we wanted one to act as the centerpiece for our talks. Our group was diverse and engaged, and Joe was an excellent source of energy and information. He spoke about where he had been and what he had experienced. Joe tells stories that come to life and inspire the imagination. Joe shared his thoughts and answered questions fielded from an engaged group of 60 kids at their day camp. And though he was tired by the time he lit that fire, he spoke on, and then he answered more questions. Afterwards, 9 of us slept in the Slave Cabin onsite and inside the Heyward House – on the floor – trying to imagine how things might have been back then. The fire had been lit, and we are better for it.

Cora Lugo
Blog for Slave Dwelling Project Sleepover- June 15, 2018

When I was a little girl growing up in Kentucky, my mom was a history and antique aficionado and frequently took me on tours of historic homes. In fact, the state park in my hometown featured one such home with slave cabins and a cemetery. In my parents’ home, there is a tall, wide chair that used to be my spot when all of us sat around the table. My mother explained that this was a “mammy chair,” in which the master’s children were taken care of and breastfed. It seems that I was always very aware that there had been slaves and that my ancestors were among them.

When I saw an opportunity to sleep in a slave cabin in Bluffton, I jumped at the opportunity, thinking that this would be a chance to reconnect with the experiences of my ancestors. I won’t lie—I was kind of expecting something supernatural to happen. What I encountered was all very natural. It was hot, so hot that the four of us decided to sleep with the windows and the door of that small cabin wide open in a South Carolina night full of mosquitoes.

As I lay tossing and turning on my sleeping bag, I stared at the ceiling, thinking of others who might have stared at that same ceiling while falling off to sleep at night. I recalled a part of the original verse of the Kentucky state song,

“My Old Kentucky Home-”

The sun shines bright on my old Kentucky Home.
‘Tis summer, the darkies are gay!
The corn top’s ripe and the meadow’s in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy, and bright.
By ‘n by hard times comes a-knocking at the door,
Then my old Kentucky home, good night.”

I thought “Well, here I am—on that little cabin floor.” I thought of all the things that might have kept those men and women from sleeping- fears for their families and their future. I also thought of how their ceiling was metaphorical, not allowing the occupants to advance educationally, economically, and socially.

I emerged from the cabin a little tired, covered in mosquito bites, and already clicking off a list of activities to be accomplished for that day. I needed time to process what I had experienced and, as I did, I realized that I still had a question—why didn’t these people try to leave? I knew that fear and despair had to be huge factors, but felt that that couldn’t have explained everything.

We were told that the slaves would have been brought in first to build the cabin and then the main house. I thought that, even under horrible duress, they must have taken some pride in what they had done. They must have thought of that cabin, ceiling, garden, step, window, door and main house as theirs- the fruit of their labor. After one night, I felt a connection to this place. Might that connection, that feeling of belonging, have been the missing factor that kept the slaves in place as well? That feels a little closer to the truth.

So, I spent the night in a slave cabin. Now what? I still need to think more about what I will do with this experience. I definitely want to spend more time connecting with the experiences of my ancestors, particularly the ways that they learned to use plants for food and medicine. Maybe that night something supernatural did happen. Maybe the buzzing of those mosquitoes were really the voices of my ancestors whispering words of encouragement, understanding, and pride.