Back to the main articles page
An Open Letter & Open Report - Black History Month, Part 2
From: HK Edgerton [firstname.lastname@example.org]
Date: Tue, Feb 23, 2016
Subject: An Open Letter & Open Report - Black History Month, Part 2
To: siegels1 [email@example.com]
Dear Ms. Lunelle,
In keeping with the celebration of Black History Month, I would don the uniform of the Southern soldier and post his Colors at the front entrance of Asheville Middle School in the City of
Asheville, North Carolina. One Black mother expressed that the parents should determine what history their children should be told. Therein lies the problem, I would tell her, as she sped away
unable to resolve that so many other parents were honking their horns, waving and calling out my name in praise of my presence.
On this day, I can only describe it as a love fest between myself and the citizenry as I returned a salute from a Black mother in the parking lot of the school as I posed for a picture from
another Black mother who expressed how proud she was I was there, and that her son finally got the chance to meet and speak to me as he made his way into the school.
My stop the next day would be at Asheville High School. After an hour or so, with the blue lights flashing, a police officer would exit his car and approach where I stood in the public easement
at the entrance of the school. I could hear the babies shouting from the school buses, "leave Mr. HK alone!" With an outstretched hand, he would greet me. "Mr. Edgerton, I would volunteer to come
here because I am the only officer in the department that does not have an HK Edgerton story to tell. I am not here to ask you to leave. You can stay as long as you like." And after about thirty
minutes of dialogue, I can assure that he got his wish, and the Principal probably needed an enema for the failed efforts to have me removed.
Much like the day at the Middle School, I would pose for pictures, hug a lot of people, do a lot of listening to stories people would tell about their ancestors who, too, wore the grey of the
Confederate soldier, and of so many women who fought a war of their own against the unholy invader who raped, murdered, burned and stole his way across the South.
I could only contemplate as I furled my flag what the next day would bring as I would visit the University of North Carolina at Asheville. God bless you!
Member, Sons of Confederate Veterans
Longstreet Zollicoffer Camp 87