Guns, Torches and Badges: The 1979 Greensboro Massacre, the Charlottesville Unite the Right Rally, and the Lasting Impacts of Racial Violence on Black and anti-Racist Communities

One of the most tragic examples of extreme racial violence occurred in Greensboro, North Carolina, on November 3, 1979, when the multi-racial Communist Workers Party (CWP) planned a demonstration to protest against the notorious Ku Klux Klan (KKK). The event, referred to as a “Death to Klan” march, was scheduled to begin in the predominately black working-class, public housing community of Morningside Homes. As the protestors gathered, a group of Nazis and Klansmen drove through the protest site in a nine-car caravan. The marchers used their fists and placard sticks and vehemently attacked the cars of the self-proclaimed fascists. In response, the Nazis and Klansmen unloaded eighty-eight seconds of gunfire into the crowd When the smoke cleared, five Communist Workers Party members were dead. The murdered were Sandra Neely Smith (Black), James Waller (White), William (Bill) Sampson (White), C'esar Cauce (Cuban American), and Michael Nathan (White). This event, dubbed the 1979 Greensboro Massacre, became even more tragic when just over a year later, on November 17th, 1980, the Klansmen and Nazis were acquitted by an all-white jury. The court decided the defendants acted in self-defense and, hence, no one ever served for these killings.

The State’s legal decision to not hold violent, white vigilantes accountable for their actions sealed an already distinct invisibility of black, working-class, public housing communities in Greensboro, North Carolina. Further, the State’s decision was the local manifestation of the national push toward conservatism that neoliberalism helped usher in during the late 1970s but gained prominence in the early 1980s under the presidential administration of Ronald Reagan

Perceived notions of progress through landmark legislations such as the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Voting Rights Act of 1965, and Affirmative Action was enough to incite racists to be intentional about pushing back against racial advancement. Reagan’s policies of deindustrialization, the war on drugs and expansions of prison, along with the stigmatization of welfare wreaked havoc on communities of color. The message was clear: conservatism would reign in the Post-Civil Rights Era and it would be maintained at all costs particularly by white vigilantes and, in some cases, by local, state, and federal authorities. The same form of governmental targeting that was carried out in the 1960s on organizations like the Black Panther Party and members like Fred Hampton were still ever present

That same hatred and violence in Greensboro perpetuated by neo-fascists appeared again on August 12th, 2017, in an eerily identical fashion when Heather Heyer, a 32 year old, White woman, was killed in Charlottesville, Virginia. Heyer lost her life after white supremacist, James Fields, Jr., plowed his car into demonstrators protesting at a “Unite the Right” rally that had been orchestrated by white nationalists Members of the Unite the Right bragged that Field’s drove through a crowd that were “on their way back from helping to repel a white supremacist march to a predominately black housing development. In an instant following Heather Heyer’s murder, Charlottesville became reminiscent of Greensboro and 2017 blatantly mirrored the dawn of the 1980s, a troubling period of racial conflict and frayed politics.

Conservatism was not just a political movement or stance that was an alternative to liberalism. It also served as a mechanism to undermine and dismantle leftist and grassroots organizing, which often left minority and other traditionally liberal communities silenced and invisible. Racial progression has often been interpreted by white racists to be an attack on conservatism or white supremacy. The perception of racial progression continues to trigger violence that is defended and/or cloaked by local as well as the federal governments. Greensboro, North Carolina, in 1979 and Charlottesville, Virginia in 2017 both provided troublesome realities of race for the country. Both also contributed to the undesirable optics to the international community as it related to the state of race relations in America. The fallacy of living in a Post-Racial society was debunked.

The 1979 Greensboro Massacre and the tragedy surrounding the Unite the Right Rally in Charlottesville, Virginia are events that illuminate examples of arguments offered by scholars surrounding the history of State and white vigilante violence. Carol Anderson and her work on “white rage” discusses how that rage is not always just about visible violence. It also shows up by working its way through the courts, the legislatures, and a range of government bureaucracies That argument is also supported by historian W. Fitzhugh Brundage who has committed most of his career studying State violence in the long narrative of American history. According to Brundage, legal and racial inequality fostered many opportunities for State agents to wield excessive power, which they justified as essential for American safety and well-being. The misuse of State power has been evident since Early America

The events of Charlottesville attempted to send a similar message as Greensboro: conservatism and political power, even when it has racist undertones, will not be forfeited for the cause of minority acknowledgement or progression. As historically illustrated in American History, any acknowledgement and progression made by blacks and anti-racist communities would be confronted by violent forms of hate from racist whites. The protest march carried out by the Alt Right was an immediate response to the removal of the Robert E. Lee statue. It also was a Radical Right response to America coming off the heels of its first black President, an explosive Black Lives Matter movement, and a fierce fight for national immigration reform. Recent racially charged hate crimes are best explained through the facilitation offered to racists by Donald Trump’s presidential administration. Trump supported notions of hate and white superiority, for example, when he declared that there were “very fine people” on both sides of the Charlottesville conflict. Trump also had been slow to denounce former Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard, David Duke and other white supremacist groups that very openly supported him

Despite the similarities of empathy toward white supremacy in both racially charged events, there are some distinct differences between Greensboro and Charlottesville. James Fields, Jr., unlike the perpetrators in Greensboro, was sentenced to prison in 2019 with a second life sentence for the murder of Heather Heyer Also, members of the white supremacists group Rise Above Movement (RAM), Benjamin Daley, Thomas Gillen, and Michael Miselis, were each sentenced to prison for more than two years for federal riot charges connected to the Charlottesville mayhem The offenders legally being held accountable is a much welcomed progressive deviation from the story of Greensboro, however the parallels between the 1979 Greensboro Massacre and the Unite the Right Rally remain. Greensboro and Charlottesville both illustrate how even when murdered activists and antiracists are not always people of color, it is marginalized communities, particularly African Americans, that have devastating, long-lasting effects. These demographics continue to suffer from trauma and fear. There are real concerns of intimidation, white vigilante violence, lack of police protection, unwarranted death, and overall targeting. As a result, these communities largely have lost the ability to organize which has left them silenced and invisible.

It is worth acknowledging that a considerable amount of research has been conducted in Greensboro since the massacre than has in Charlottesville and the Unite the Right rally. A significant amount of time has passed since the 1979 Greensboro Massacre which has allowed for much more assessment of this historical event, including the creation of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Opposingly, it is impossible at this point to analyze all of the damaging effects that Charlottesville will continue to have on local black communities in years to come because that particular tragedy is so relatively recent. The story of Greensboro, however, provides foresight about what Charlottesville’s trauma could look like in the days ahead if not provided proper consideration from local and federal governments, community leaders, and activists.

The 1979 Greensboro Massacre often does not exist in the memories of those residing outside of North Carolina. That is largely a result of the Iranian hostage crisis that occurred just one day later, on November 4, 1979. National media coverage shifted its attention from the killings in Greensboro to Iran causing the 1979 Greensboro Massacre to fall underneath the radar of many Americans. The attention may have been centered on international affairs in Iran, but America was still grappling with racially charged violence and the intolerance of leftist politics carried out in the United States by organizations like the Communist Workers Party. The Vietnam War against communism had ended. The disdain for it had not. As Charisse Burden-Stelly illustrates in her extensive work on anti-blackness and anti-communism, the Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI), House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC), and the Subversive Activities Control Board collaborated in isolating those unwilling to go along with American Cold War and Domestic policy. These policies were inextricably bound to antiradicalism and the outright rejection of anything defined or understood as anticapitalism from the 1940s through at least the early 1980s Yet, leftist organizing persisted in pockets of the U.S.

The Communist Workers Party was led by Jerry Tung and headquartered in New York City from 1975-1984. Tung was an Asian American that joined forces with people across racial lines to challenge the capitalistic nature of American society. Originally named the Workers Viewpoint Organization (WVO), the CWP was guided by the teachings of Marx, Lenin and Mao Tse-Tung The group based their revolutionary vanguard party within the working class and advocated for the overthrow of the United States government by any means possible, including the use of violence. This worldview was supported by the North Carolina chapter of the CWP when local member Paul Bermanzohn described them as a, “political party standing for the overthrow of capitalism and the establishment of socialism, which we think would be best for the vast majority of the people.

Politics had been a part of their individual fabric of North Carolina CWP members before they knew each other. Nelson Johnson, who is African American and was leader of the North Carolina chapter of the CWP in 1979, was a local, grassroots activists that had recently turned his attention to Pan Africanist teachings that supported ideals of uniting with other peoples against the U.S. imperialism That led to his political practice of Marxism. Sandra Neely Smith was a graduate of Bennett College and former Student Government Association President. Despite her educational success, Smith maintained her commitment to the racial and working class struggles she witnessed. Sandra was the daughter of a mill worker and witnessed the poor conditions of working-class people, the low pay, and the ways in which workers were divided along the lines of race. After her college years, she worked to organize unions in local mills and remained committed to that work until her death on November 3, 1979

Members Paul Bermanzohn, Jim Waller, and C'esar Cauce connected at Duke University in Durham, North Carolina. Bermanzohn and Waller were at Duke Medical School, the former as a student and the latter as a new doctor. Bermanzohn captured the reasoning behind the rise in activism among these predominately white activists when he described his personal experience as a medical student:

In medical school at Duke University, I became more radical. You are supposed to get conservative in medical school; I became more radical as I saw how poor people were treated. How no expense was spared in taking care of upper class people and how if you were poor, and especially if you were poor and black you were treated as a lesser creature. I was shocked to hear poor black people routinely called teaching material in the clinics. It was no surprise that the black community called Duke Hospital the Plantation. By the time I graduated from medical school in 1974, I was on my way to becoming a revolutionary

C'esar Cauce, who was Cuban-American, had also been a student at Duke. He and others helped to organize custodial workers at Duke Medical Center to advocate for better pay Cauce’s commitment to working-class people was also shaped by his family experience. Despite leaving Cuba for Miami at the age of 5 years old, communist politics in his native country influenced him to be committed to activism that involved working class people

In the Summer of 1979, The CWP began planning or an anti-Klan rally to be sponsored in Greensboro, North Carolina. Even though this march would attract people from all over the state, the CWP chose Greensboro as the place to have the “Death to the Klan” march and rally because it was a place with a very strong chapter of the CWP In regard to the slogan “Death to the Klan,” CWP member Dale Sampson explained it was a strong statement denouncing the KKK’s racism and anti-Semitic beliefs. “Death to the Klan” meant a destruction of the KKK as an organization. The idea was that the demise of the KKK would come through the people knowing what the Klan was really about, and through this knowledge and public pressure, the KKK as an organization would cease to exist

The CWP went throughout the Morningside Neighborhood and adjacent neighborhoods and discussed with the residents of those communities the forthcoming rally and march to be held in Greensboro on November 3, 1979. That October, Marty Nathan and other CWP members passed out leaflets calling for the support of the CWP’s efforts to do educational work in exposing the nature of the Klan and its links with the government and corporations

Marty Nathan explained that the purpose of selecting Morningside and other predominately black public housing communities was that these individuals and communities had historically been attacked by the Klan. Nathan also maintained that these particular communities were important because they represented the working class people in various industries around Greensboro, North Carolina. She consulted with people in the neighborhoods to try to secure their participation. Equally important, as suggested by CWP member Dale Sampson, was the fact that Morningside Homes, Hampton Homes, and Smith Homes had been sites of previous anti-racist organizing for the CWP Anti-racist organizing at this time was particularly important due to the upsurge of white vigilante groups like the Ku Klux Klan throughout the United States and particularly in North Carolina by the late 1970s.

The strength and activity of the KKK has ebbed and flowed throughout American history. Historically, the KKK and other similar white supremacist organizations tend to gain momentum whenever there is a perception of social, political, or economic progression being made in the African American community. The Klan’s boost in activity during the early 1960s was directly connected to the recently won civil rights legislations that were primarily structured to benefit African Americans. Much of the decade of the 1960s served as one of the most active periods for the organization. However, the six-year period from 1967 to 1973 was devastating for the KKK. During the post-World War II era, peak in membership had been around fifty-five thousand, but by 1967, the national numbers had dropped seventy-five percent. This decline had much to do with the FBI infiltrating the KKK in efforts to dismantle the organization. Breaking them down was orchestrated by the FBI in efforts to demonstrate, in the midst of the Cold War, intolerance for white extremism. Fighting against extremist groups such as the KKK at this time was important because America was attempting to guard its reputation against communist countries that were critical of Western imperialism and capitalistic nations and the terror their own citizens suffered. Therefore, it was imperative for the United States government to try to regulate such organizations and their violent acts in order to maintain its legitimacy across the world

During the late 1970s, however, the KKK seemed to be headed for a revival across the South. Klan membership jumped from six thousand and five hundred to ten thousand between 1975 and 1979 with an estimated seventy-five thousand active sympathizers who read Klan literature or attended rallies. This upswing in membership and empathy was directly linked to the triumph of conservatism during this period and the United States’ unsuccessful efforts in Vietnam to combat communism. Communism has historically presented a scare in America for decades not only because it threatened an overthrow of capitalism by the working class and minorities, but because communists advocated for equal placement among classes. Therefore, the KKK was and still is staunchly against communists as they are African Americans. The sensitivity, embarrassment and anger of American citizens surrounding the United States’ defeat in Vietnam fostered a reinvigoration of tolerance, even within the American government, for the KKK. The implications of the support for the KKK was that there was a belief that the organization could thwart any home-bred communists who may attempt to interrupt and destroy the United States. Confronting communism also would help to prevent any further civil and human rights legislation. As a result, the Klan’s approximate seventy-five thousand supporters turned a blind eye to the barbaric, violent, and intimidating tactics of the KKK and supported their efforts

North Carolina was not exempt from this resurgence. The secrecy that typically surrounds the KKK has made it difficult to be sure of the specific membership numbers in the state by the mid-1970s. However, it was clear that the KKK was alive and appeared to thrive. There were over one hundred documented incidents of racially and politically motivated violence by the KKK throughout North Carolina between 1979 and 1983, including their involvement in the 1979 Greensboro Massacre. The large number of incidents spoke directly to the surge of the organization at the time

As details emerged about the 1979 Greensboro Massacre, what was extremely troubling was the evidence of corroboration at both the local and federal levels between the government and white vigilante groups CWP leader Nelson Johnson applied for a parade permit that October. The Greensboro Police Department placed restrictions on the permit which included not allowing the CWP to carry arms openly or concealed. Also, the sticks they would use to carry banners could be no larger than two inches by two inches. That was the first time such restrictions had been placed on a parade permit in the city of Greensboro Additionally, senior ranks on the force also were working with the intelligence of FBI police informant Edward Dawson. Dawson, who had a past history as a Klansman and FBI informant, indicated that the Klan had approximately 100 people that planned to be in attendance on November 3rd GPD knowledge of the Klan’s presence coupled with the stipulations placed on the CWP’s permit created for vulnerability for the CWP as well as the predominately African American, working class people of Morningside Homes.

On October 26, 1979, Dawson reached out to members of the GPD to inform them of a meeting between North Carolina Grand Dragon Virgil Griffin that was going to include the Ku Klux Klan, Nazi party, and Rights of White People Party Theirs was an effort to collectively combat the Communist Workers Party on November 3, 1979. These white vigilantes secured a copy of the parade permit through Eddie Dawson which was given to him by the Greensboro Police Department. The fascists began their planning. Their preparation was facilitated by Bernard Butkovich, an agent of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (ATF), Butkovich incited modes of racist violence in a similar fashion of Edward Dawson, if not more. Butkovich infiltrated the Nazi Party in Winston Salem, roughly 20 minutes from Greensboro, in July 1979 and worked with them until November 3 with the knowledge, approval, and supervision of the Washington ATF headquarters. Just like with the KKK, the FBI was allegedly interested in penetrating the Nazi Party for the purposes of monitoring them making sure they do not grow too powerful. However, through the FBI’s use of Butkovich, it appears authorities took advantage of opportunities to instigate Nazi aggression toward leftist politics, particularly communism

A couple of months leading to the 1979 Greensboro Massacre, Butkovich, other members of the Nazis, and some Klansmen, met in Louisburg, North Carolina, to form a coalition for their attacks on communists and African Americans. At this meeting, Klansmen Virgil Griffin, Gorrell Pierce, and Roland Wood, along with North Carolina Nazi leader, Harold Covington, announced the formation of the United Racist Front. After the creation of the organization, Butkovich encouraged this group to get involved with a number of illegal activities. He offered to teach a course on how to make bombs, urged party members to obtain illegal military weapons from him, offered to procure explosives, and attempted to interest Nazis and Klansmen in securing illegal equipment to make semi-automatic guns fully automatic In preparation for November 3, Butkovich attended a key planning meeting for the Greensboro motorcade that would be present at the march. He checked to see whether the then-Klan party leader of Winston-Salem, Roland Wood, still intended to participate and urged him to take a pistol to the anti-Klan rally. Butkovich also provided guns and the names of the CWP who were to be shot. He, however, planned to not actually attend the march

The information that had been relayed to some of the authorities by Eddie Dawson was correct. The Klan and Nazis showed up to the march. When examining the minute-by-minute communication of the police with each other on the morning of the march, it is evident that the commanding officers knew the location and the route of the Klan/Nazi caravan for nearly fifteen minutes before conveying the information to the actual officers who would be working the parade At approximately 11:25 a.m., the terror at Morningside Homes began. A string of cars full of Klansmen arrived screaming out, “You asked for the Klan, you got ‘em!” That is when the people in the crowd started hitting the cars. The Klan proceeded to get out of their cars, retrieve their weapons, and shoot. The antics of children at play had been interrupted by the piercing sound of gunfire. Most of them ran inside their homes terrified, crying, and gasping for breath telling their parents that “everybody’s getting shot! It had been a miracle that none of the children had been hit. The adults of Morningside were equally vulnerable and became suddenly in harm’s way. A young mother was hanging out the family’s wash when the first shots were fired. Another lady was caught on tape lugging groceries from her parked car to an apartment. Even those adults who were seemingly secure inside their homes were not shielded from the violence. Many of the demonstrators, accompanied by children, began to run to the doorsteps of the residents for cover. Residents let the demonstrators in to provide some sort of protection from the flying bullets. In the carnage, one of the demonstrators died near the front door of an elderly woman’s apartment. That resident was later hospitalized for an aggravated heart condition as a result of what she witnessed. At the end of the gunfire, several protestors lay dead and wounded and some of the bodies were strewn on the doorsteps of Morningside Homes and the lives of those living there were changed forever

The days following the event were just as intense as the event itself. Morningside resident Barry Ross described the area as being like a time bomb, as the community attempted to sort out whom to blame, how to respond to the violence, and determine exactly what happened. One thing was certain: the residents had witnessed a massacre. “It’s a hard blow,” Ross exclaimed “when somebody comes in your neighborhood and blows stuff up! This tragedy had not just entailed the interruption of a protest movement and the murder of five people; it also interrupted and disintegrated the social, political, and living conditions of Morningside. The immediate effects of the trauma were primarily associated with residents witnessing the gunning down of human beings. The impact was long-term because the shock recurred. The violence itself did not return to the tenants, but the fear of being violated again by the Klan, the coming in of the CWP, and the failure of the police was all so physically, emotionally, and mentally haunting

After the bodies had been carted away and the traces of blood cleansed, the memories and the terror remained with the residents. For former Morningside resident, Tammy Tutt, the fear that the Klan put in the people in the community became, “bigger than what was right. By this Tutt meant that the fear overcame the ability of tenants to rightfully challenge those who had specifically violated them. It also meant that fear had caused the community to lose much of its cohesiveness and damaged the confidence of the people. In support of this idea, Nettie Coad, former resident of predominately black Southeast Greensboro, recalled, “We were so afraid that people refused to talk about it. All we knew was what we read in the paper because we were too scared to discuss it with each other. It was easier just not to deal with it.

Fear also led to the breakdown of community relations. Prior to the shooting, it was common to find children outside playing or visiting their friends. It was also common for adults to be found sitting on their porches conversing with their neighbors. After the violence of November 3rd, children were too frightened to play, and adults did not want to be potentially caught in any crossfire. As a result, many relationships became strained. The residents had reluctantly allowed the violence to steal from them the very thing that had always been so important: a thriving and tightly woven community

Prior to this tragedy, there had been well documented cases of police brutality involving several members of the African American community in Greensboro throughout the years. The event of November 3, 1979, made the relationship between the authorities and those living in Morningside Homes more stressed. Because the police had assumed a connection between this “troublesome” community and the CWP, they seemed to use this incident as leverage to intensify their aggression toward the community in the days following the shooting. For example, the police implemented a curfew on the community, and people were arrested if the curfew was broken. It was as if the residents were being punished for an incident that they, in essence, had no part in creating

It was the Nazis and Ku Klux Klan who were responsible for strategically striking down five victims, all of whom were leaders in the Communist Workers Party. However, it was the aiding of key authorities that facilitated in the plans of the Klansmen that allowed the attack to be successful. It appeared that law enforcement was so focused on the CWP that the police either had not considered or did not care about the danger the march could potentially bring to and for the people who lived in Morningside. Residents wanted to know that if the police could tail the KKK down Interstate 85 and Highway 220, why could they not follow them to Everitt Street where the shooting happened? Why did they not respond to calls from people in Morningside who telephoned when they saw what was about to happen? After all, everyone knew the Klan was prone to violence, and the police were aware that some members of the caravan had weapons

The tragedies of the 1979 Greensboro Massacre were multifold. They included intentional acts of hate, corroboration between local police and government officials with white nationalists in the carrying out of acts of hate, and traumatic damage done to a local black working class community. Nearly 40 years later after the 1979 Greensboro Massacre in Charlottesville, Virginia, some of the same tragedies were disturbingly emulated. During the United the Right Rally in 2017, the United States was under Donald Trump’s presidential administration which was quick to condone conservatism and slow to denounce white supremacy. That support from the national administration facilitated the racist acts of the Alt Right in Charlottesville.

Because the events of Charlottesville are relatively recent, there is still much being uncovered. There has been no evidence, so far, of corroboration between the police in Charlottesville and neo-fascists as was illustrated in Greensboro. What is clear about the Unite the Right Rally is that racists were comfortable carrying out acts of violence and the authorities left the counter protestors vulnerable. Also, the tragedy of Charlottesville hardened, perhaps even more, the relationship between the police and local liberal communities and communities of color, particularly African Americans.

The Unite the Right Rally was organized and planned for August 12, 2017, in the city of Charlottesville, Virginia, by white nationalist, Jason Kessler. It was planned in response to the decision made by local city officials to remove the Robert E. Lee statue that was erected at Emancipation Park located in the downtown area. A day prior to The Unite the Right rally and its tragic outcome, however, there was an unannounced march that was held by white nationalists on the campus of the University of Virginia. This gathering had not been sanctioned by the city of Charlottesville or by any entity on campus. Marchers organized and many carried tiki torches as they chanted through campus, “White Lives Matter,” “You will not replace us,” and “Jews will not replace us.” Soon confronted and surrounded by counter protesters, the torches of the marchers were used as weapons as scuffles between the two groups ensued. The University of Virginia police later arrived on the scene and soon declared the event an illegal assembly and threatened to arrest anyone who would not leave

Although the campus police eventually arrived, it has been argued by some community members and counter protestors that the lack of intervention by them sooner is what contributed to the confidence of the neo-fascists for the actual Unite the Right Rally slated for the next day. There was seemingly no fear of retaliation on the part of the white nationalists which encouraged more participation by neo-fascists during the planned rally. The seeming paralysis of police infected the image of all law enforcement and created a general sense of inadequacy and unpreparedness for the weekend’s events

The Unite the Right rally commenced on August 12th as planned. It was scheduled for noon, but protestors were eagerly arriving as early as 8:00AM. White nationalists ascended on Emancipation Park where they were confronted by counter demonstrators. Both the Charlottesville Police Department and Virginia State Police had rightfully planned to have a heavy presence the day of the march. One of their first missteps, however, was placing members of law enforcement at crucial intersections who were not qualified or equipped to handle parades of this violent nature. Diane Hueschen, an unsworn civilian employee of the Charlottesville Police Department who works as a forensic technician was standing on the corner of 2nd Street NE and High Street. Her daily job description typically requires her to maintain evidence collected from crime scenes, but she often works traffic duty for football games. On August 12th, she was ordered to stand post at 2nd Street NE and High Street with a marked unit blocking southbound vehicle traffic on 2nd Street NE. Hueschen was not given any intelligence about the event, but was told by her superiors to “expect things to go south.” Because Hueschen was an unsworn civilian employee, she was not authorized to carry a weapon, only pepper spray. There was no realistic way for her to maintain crowd control as a result of her status. This kind of lack of preparation created opportunity and allowed for the type of violence that the local police department had hoped to prevent As feared, Hueschen witnessed a physical confrontation around 10:00 a.m. just south of her position approximately two blocks toward Market Street

A group of hundreds of Unite the Right demonstrators marched west down Market Street toward the southeast entrance of Emancipation Park. Led by members of the League of the South and the Traditionalist Workers Party, they wore helmets and carried shields, flagpoles, and pepper spray. The crowd of counterprotesters responded by forming their own human blockade in front of the clergy. They locked arms and blocked Market Street. Unite the Right demonstrators were not dismayed. They pushed forward with their shields and hit the counter-protesters with flagpoles. Body camera footage shows that police officers witnessed it all as they watched standing behind barricades. There is no evidence that officers sought to intervene by separating the parties, which could have prevented injuries or any further escalation of violence. Police Chief Al Thomas’ personal assistant Emily Lantz stated upon the first signs of open violence on Market Street, Chief Thomas said, “let them fight, it will make it easier to declare an unlawful assembly. Chief Thomas has denied that he made any such claim

What is certain is that very shortly after, the rally was declared an unlawful assembly at approximately 11:32 That declaration did not coil the high emotion and violence, however. Right wing groups began leaving the park and moved toward McIntire Park which is located roughly a mile and a half from the downtown area. As the marchers began leaving Emancipation Park, Officer Tammy Shiflett was in a vulnerable position at her assigned post with all the violence at the intersection of 4th Street NE and Market Street. Although she is a sworn police officer and carries a firearm, Officer Shiflett is a school resource officer who works in an elementary school. She had just returned to active duty following more than two months of leave while recovering from elbow surgery. In the face of the Market Street skirmishes that broke out after the unlawful-assembly declaration, Officer Shiflett felt unsafe and radioed for assistance. Instead of her being reinforced by additional officers, she was reassigned

Once she moved her vehicle, all that remained at that crucial intersection was a wooden sawhorse barricade. Lieutenant Steve Knick, the traffic supervisor, was not aware that Officer Shiflett had been reassigned and no one in the Command Center replaced Shiflett’s original position. The lack of protection of that intersection left it vulnerable to vehicle traffic southbound on 4th Street, across the Downtown Mall. The sawhorse barricade blocking 4th Street was moved by unknown persons, and several vehicles were able to travel southbound across the Downtown Mall. James Fields, Jr. exploited this vulnerability when he drove his Dodge Challenger southbound along 4th Street into a crowd of counter-protesters, causing the death of Heather Heyer and injuring of several others

The death of Heyer represented the hideous face of hate and her murder shook the entire country. Immediately members of the community, including the police, started to assess the events leading up to Heather’s killing. Some immediate questions that arose from those in the community were questions about police preparation. There had been weaknesses that unintentionally enabled James Fields, Jr. to plow his car into a crowd of counter demonstrators. For example, Charlottesville Police Department conversed with other jurisdictions that had experienced prior events like this, but never implemented any of those lessons in their own operational plans

Also, multiple law enforcement agencies, including the Virginia State Police and Charlottesville Police, coordinated in the planning process for the Unite the Right rally. Other agencies also included in preparation was fire and rescue agency personnel and other local law enforcement agencies. There, however, was no planned coordination among any of them. It is also important to mention that August 12 was the first time that many CPD personnel had ever become part of a mobile field force. The leader of the CPD field force, Lieutenant Michael Gore, had never before commanded a mobile field force. Most officers had not trained in crowd dispersal, moving as a group in a line formation, or the appropriate use of nonlethal weapons. They had never responded to the military-style commands that are used when field forces are put in motion. They had never gathered in a field or large open area to practice as a field force. Many officers had never worn or even tried on their “riot gear,” which consisted of ballistic helmets, plastic shields, and gas masks. Additionally, the late attempt to move the Unite the Right rally to McIntire Park hampered communications with the public, city officials, and authorities. Uncertain as to where the event would ultimately take place, City leaders were unable to provide specific details about street closures, safety measures, and other important information. They left important questions from the business community, neighborhood groups, and interested citizens unanswered. As a result, many people were uncertain about whether to attend the protest event, and what to expect if they did. That uncertainty created anxiety and the tragedies surrounding the Unite the Right Rally justified those feelings then and beyond

Charlottesville Police Chief, Al Thomas, expressed regret about the white-nationalist rally, but defended police action. He also denied giving orders to not intervene between clashes between marchers and counter demonstrators. Contradicting claims that there was poor police presence and intervention, Thomas exclaimed that, “the police had a very large footprint throughout the entire endeavor. However, one year later during counter demonstrator protests to commemorate the tragedy, activists were still expressing disdain for the actions of the police. This time it was primarily locals who had gathered to honor Heather Heyer and stand in solidarity against racism. Noticeably absent were the white nationalists that had ascended on Charlottesville the year prior. Who was clearly present was the police department who were dressed out in all of their riot gear

On the night before the year anniversary of the Unite the Rally, those in solidarity against hate gathered at the steps of the Rotunda at the University of Virginia. A giant banner was up in plain, obvious sight that said, “Last year they came with torches; this year they come with badges.” On the actual anniversary, the protesters, who had come out to confront white supremacists clearly had planned to stand up to the police, too. They cursed them. “Blue lives don’t matter,” the crowd chanted. And: “We don’t need cops. The group then moved the rally to a neighboring lawn saying they didn’t feel safe in the “cage”, referring to the barricaded rotunda area. On the lawn, protesters confronted a line of police wearing riot gear. “Why are you in riot gear? We don’t see no riot here,” they chanted

Some called the heavy law enforcement presence a difficult necessity to ensure everyone was safe. Others said the police made them feel anything but safe. “I was here last year and was almost hit by the car,” resident Zoe Spellman, 31, said. “It’s sad that our relationship with the police is manifesting itself this way. I saw last year how they would not help us. We begged for help on [August] the 11th. We begged for help on the 12th. . . . And for we white people, this was the first time we felt what black people must feel all the time.

As for the black communities of Charlottesville, only time will tell how the trauma of the Unite the Right rally will affect them for years to come. Oral histories, testimonies, and current interaction between them and local authorities, data, and statistics will provide insight for future scholars in the same way historians learned the impact of racist violence on black communities in Greensboro. What was already known prior to the rally was that issues of race in Charlottesville are far from new. Many African Americans in Charlottesville are, for example, still reeling from the 1964 leveling of the predominately black housing and business community known as Vinegar Hill. Vinegar Hill underwent redevelopment displacing at least 500 long term residents who were mostly African American. There remains much bitterness around this urban renewal controversy and serves as an early example of several local racial injustices In recent years, there has been documentation of the educational disparities of blacks in comparison to whites in the city as well as in imbalance of arrests among blacks in comparison to whites Since the rally, local organizations such as the White Feather Educational and Historical Project have held discussions centering Charlottesville’s public fear of the African American Community and ways in which they can combat that white, public sentiment Others in the city since the tragedy have focused on the mental health of those in local black communities that is often damaged as a result of the racism and negative stigmas These are all indications of a community, particularly the African Americans therein, that is seeking to heal. If the black community of Morningside Homes in Greensboro is any indication of what could continue to manifest for black communities of Charlottesville in the years to come, then there remains much intentional work ahead for the city of Charlottesville. Further, that intentional work must not only be committed to by the African American community, but by all sectors of the city. If every entity is not committed, as warned by the city of Greensboro, much dismay vulnerability and invisibility lies ahead for blacks in Charlottesville.

Years after 1979, Morningside was never able to rebuild its viability as a community and was on the road to decline. Candy Clapp remembers that with all of the scarring memories and negativity, “Everyone wanted out of Morningside after that happened. Little did she know, many of the people would eventually come out of Morningside, just not in a way that they would have predicted. In 2001, what was considered to be an “obsolete” Morningside Homes began to be transformed into a “vibrant, mixed-income community” made possible as a result of a seventy-six million project spearheaded by the Greensboro Housing Authority. The revitalization effort focused on the Morningside Homes/Lincoln Grove areas and covered roughly two hundred and forty acres. With this new development, Morningside Homes changed names and became the area known as Willow Oaks. Willow Oaks generated over forty million in private investments to create the new community. Other financial support came from a twenty-three million grant awarded by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) under the HOPE VI Revitalization Program. The remaining twelve million was provided by the City of Greensboro

Only Three hundred of the six hundred and eight units of Willow Oaks had been subsidized by the Greensboro Housing Authority. The remaining three hundred and eight housing units were rented or sold at market value for whomever may have wanted to live there. Priority for the subsidized units was supposedly given to the former residents of Morningside Homes, but what about all of the other tenants? While it may have been true that many residents wanted to leave the area as Clapp suggested, they did not want to be forced out under these circumstances only to be transferred to other public housing areas that also fought the demons of a disinvestment and lack of resources.

As a result of the displacement of several Morningside residents, it began to appear that the Willow Oaks community was created in an effort to eliminate certain members of the community, erase social and political memories, and destroy the infamous history of the area. “There is no doubt in my mind that the city bulldozed our community trying to erase the damage that had been done as a result of November 3,” said former Morningside Homes’ resident, Sammy Pass. “Hope VI Project? Since when did they ever care about bringing positive change to Morningside? And how did Morningside get chosen over the other public housing areas?” he continued This is certainly Nelson Johnson’s position. “There is no doubt in my mind that the reason Morningside was done away with was due to what had happened there 25 years earlier. By the city ridding itself of Morningside, they would no longer have to face their failure of the people. The easiest thing, then, was just to get rid of the place and pretend the 1979 Greensboro Massacre never happened. The goal for the city of Charlottesville should be to not risk this type of erasure for their own African American communities as a result of attempting to white out the blotches of white supremacy.

Nearly 41 years later in October of 2020, the city of Greensboro offered an apology for the 1979 Greensboro Massacre The City Council rightfully honored the five lives lost on that fateful day, but there remained hardly any mention of the impact on the black working class people who were living in the space where the tragedy happened. The case study of Morningside Homes illuminated a disregard and invisibility that black communities often suffered at the hands of law enforcement, city officials, white supremacists and other community members. The tragedy of Charlottesville illustrated not only the continuation of that invisibility, but also the traditional hindering of organizing as a result of trauma, fear, and distrust of those sworn to protect the communities in which they serve. Despite how progressive America attempts to position itself, local histories continue to reflect national divisions of race and politics that relentingly facilitate rage, violence, and white supremacy in an alleged Post-Racial Society. Hence the persistent need for freedom fighting organizations such as Black Lives Matter and Dream Defenders, who, despite the constant fear of retaliation and repercussions, undertake in the necessary upstream fight for freedom and equality for all.