In 1904, a mixed-race crew built the new Cambria, Virginia Depot passenger station. Their faces were captured, but their names were not. As we search census records and explore new tools like AI facial recognition, we hope to uncover who they were — the hands and lives behind this piece of our shared history.
Facebook PostCambria Depot Work Crew, about 1904 (DD Lester Collection, Montgomery Museum of Art & History)Close-up of Cambria Depot Work Crew, about 1904 (DD Lester Collection, Montgomery Museum of Art & History)Close-up of Cambria Depot Work Crew, about 1904 (DD Lester Collection, Montgomery Museum of Art & History)Close-up of Cambria Depot Work Crew, about 1904 (DD Lester Collection, Montgomery Museum of Art & History)
This 1904 photograph captures a work crew—Black and white men together—building the new passenger station for the Cambria, Virginia Depot. It’s a remarkable image of shared labor and community effort during a time of deep segregation.
Yet, like so many images from the early 20th century, the men remain unnamed, except for the foreman, Willie Corell. Their faces look back at us across more than a century, but their identities have been lost to time. Who were they? What were their lives like?
With advancing technology, tools like AI facial recognition may one day help uncover their names and family connections. Until then, our research turns to the 1900 and 1910 census records, where we hope to find traces of the African American laborers who helped shape the Cambria community and build this station that still stands as part of our shared history.
If you have family stories, photographs, or names that might help identify these men, we would love to hear from you. Each clue brings us closer to giving them the recognition they deserve.
Behind the Lawrence family’s fence on Five Points Road in Riner stands an unidentified African American woman—her name unrecorded, her story unknown. She appears behind Canaan and Mollie Weaver Lawrence, whose wealth came from farming, commerce, and the post office in the late 1800s.
Searching for Her Name
In this photograph, taken in Riner, Virginia, a white family stands proudly in front of their home on Five Points Road, Riner, Virginia. Behind the fence, partially obscured, stands an unidentified African American woman—someone whose name and story have not yet been recorded.
She is pictured behind Canaan (1840–1905) and Mollie E. Weaver Lawrence (1838–1931), whose home and farm once stood at this site. Canaan, a Confederate veteran, was listed as a farmer, D.G. merchant, and postmaster in 1893—the sources of the family’s prosperity. Born in Floyd County, he moved to Auburn by the 1870 census. Mollie, born in Auburn, remained there her entire life.
This photograph was shared by their granddaughter, Virginia Deal Lawrence, a longtime teacher at Auburn Elementary School, who preserved many family images and documents. Despite a search through census and local records, the woman’s name remains unknown.
We will continue to look through Virginia Deal’s papers and scrapbooks in hopes of finding a clue.
If you recognize this woman or know anything about the African American community connected to the Lawrence family, please contact us—we would be honored to record her name and story.
Please let us know if you can identify this woman behind the fence.Lawrence Family PhotoCanaan Lawrence1893 Canaan Lawrence was Postmaster of Riner, Va1895 Canaan Lawrence was the Postmaster in Riner, VaMollie Elizabeth Weaver Lawrence Virginia Deal Lawrence, granddaughter of Canaan and Mollie LawrenceThe Riner 1995 Calendar filled with Virginia Deal Lawrence’s photos
Fisk University has released its Rosenwald School Digital Collection, preserving and sharing the history of these vital institutions. In Montgomery County, the collection highlights schools built through the determination of African American communities in Elliston, Pine Woods, Shawsville, and Wake Forest.
Fisk University has made its Rosenwald School Digital Collection publicly accessible, a significant step in preserving and sharing the history of these important institutions. For Montgomery County, the collection documents the Rosenwald Schools established through the determination and vision of African American communities in Elliston, Pine (Piney) Woods near Riner, Shawsville, and Wake Forest.
Although only the Wake Forest school remains today—adapted for use as a private residence—the collection ensures that the legacy of all three schools endures. These schools stand as a testament to community leadership, resilience, and the transformative power of education during the early twentieth century.
The Story of Rosenwald Schools
The website (scroll down) offers a wealth of information: the story of Julius Rosenwald and his vision, the purpose of the school fund, the significance of the school designs, and the requirement that African American communities contribute a share of the cost. Visitors will also find maps, photographs, and documentation of schools across the region and beyond.
Elliston School
Elliston School Info1940 School Census Map2002 Image (Courtesy of Meadowbrook Museum, Shawsville)Image of the list of students in 1935 (Courtesy of Meadowbrook Museum, Shawsville, James Earnest Dow document)
Built in 1928–1929, the Elliston Rosenwald School reflects the determination of the local African American community to provide better educational opportunities for their children. Families in Elliston raised $300 toward the project, which was matched by $500 from the Rosenwald Fund and $2,583 from the Montgomery County School Board.
The school stood on two acres of land and housed two classrooms, each with its own teacher. The school was located on Brake Road, in the Allegheny School District. The legacy: the Elliston Rosenwald School was a center of learning, community, and pride during an era when access to education was hard-won.
The Pine Woods Rosenwald School (Piney Woods) was built in a two-teacher design under the supervision of Tuskegee University. The school was sited on Piney Woods Road, in the Auburn School District. While the exact construction date is unknown, records indicate the total cost was $1,075. Of that amount, the Rosenwald Fund contributed $300, the African American community raised $275, and the Montgomery County School Board provided $500.
Unlike white schools of the period, which were fully funded by the School Board, African American families were required to make direct financial contributions toward the construction of their schools. This inequity underscores both the systemic barriers they faced and the extraordinary commitment of the Pine Woods community to ensuring education for their children.
Constructed between 1928 and 1929, the Shawsville Rosenwald School followed a two-teacher design overseen by the Montgomery County School Board. The total cost of $3,383 was shared among the Rosenwald Fund ($500), the African American community ($300), and the Montgomery County School Board ($2,583).
At the time, Shawsville, of the Allegheny School District, was a thriving hub, energized by railroad service and new road (US Route 11) construction projects. These opportunities drew African American laborers and rail workers to the area, many of whom invested their limited resources into building a school for their children. Their contributions—financial and communal—stand as a testament to the determination of Shawsville’s African American families to secure education despite inequities in public funding.
Constructed between 1928 and 1929, the Wake Forest Rosenwald School followed a two-teacher design on a two-acre site, in the Blacksburg School District, overseen by the Montgomery County School Board. The project cost $3,383, with funding shared by the Rosenwald Fund ($500), the African American community ($426 in 1928, about $7,500 in today’s value), and the Montgomery County School Board ($2,457). This school is now a private residence.
The Wake Forest community at this time was made up of independent farmers, farm laborers, boatmen, railroad workers, teamsters, and domestic workers. As coal extraction began to rise and reshape the region’s economy, African American families recognized that education would be essential for their children’s future. By pooling their resources—despite economic hardship—they ensured access to schooling that could open paths beyond the limits of labor and provide new opportunities for the next generation.
In 1961, Blacksburg High School became the first in Montgomery County to admit African American students, paving the way for full integration of all county high schools by 1966.
After the U.S. Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown v. Board of Education ruling outlawed segregation, Montgomery County resisted. The school board leaned on “states’ rights” arguments and used tactics from Virginia’s Gray Commission—such as controlling student assignments and offering tuition grants to white families—to delay integration for years.
Amidst this resistance, three students from Christiansburg Institute applied to transfer to the all-white Blacksburg High School, which then enrolled about 900 students. They were siblings Phillip H. Price (15) and Ann Christine Price (13), along with Jacqueline Iris Lewis (14). With support from NAACP attorney Reuben E. Lawson of Roanoke, their applications went before the State Pupil Placement Board. Phillip and Ann Christine were admitted for the 1961 school year, but Jacqueline’s request was denied on the grounds of “academic standards”—a requirement never applied to white students.
On August 23, 1961, Jacqueline and her father, Walter H. Lewis, traveled to Roanoke for the hearing, an intimidating experience for a 14-year-old. The Board delayed its ruling for a week before denying her appeal. That fall, Jacqueline remained at Christiansburg Institute.
That September, Phillip and Ann Christine Price became the first Black students to integrate Montgomery County schools when they walked into Blacksburg High. According to researcher Tracy A. Martin, they were not alone—their white neighbors walked beside them in solidarity. This act of courage followed a chilling warning: on April 29, 1961, a ten-foot burning cross had been discovered on the school grounds, South Main Street.
In 1962, the school board again delayed the application process for two more students seeking admission. Yearbooks from 1961–1964 suggest that the Price siblings were the only African American students at Blacksburg High during those early years. In the years that followed, more students of color began to appear in the yearbooks. By 1966, the school board closed Christiansburg Institute, and all of the county’s white high schools were finally opened to every student.
Phillip H. PriceAnn Christine Price
Newspaper Articles
April 1961
04 April 1961 Daily Progress04 April 1961 The Free Lance-Star04 April 1961, Roanoke Times04 April 1961 Martinsville Bulletin13 April, 1961 The World-News13 April 1961, Roanoke Times13 April 1961 News & Advance14 April 1961 The World News17 April 1961 The World-News19 April 1961, Ledger-Star30 April 1961 “Cross Burned on Blacksburg School Grounds” Roanoke Times
July 1961
26 July 1961 Richmond News Leader26 July 1961 Danville Register & Bee31 July 1961 The World-News
August 1961
01 August 1961 Roanoke Times10 August 1961 Roanoke Times21 August 1961 The World News23 August 1961, Danville Register & Bee23 August 1961 The World News29 August 1961 The News and Advance
September 1961
05 September The Richmond News Leader05 September 1961 The Ledger-Star06 September 1961 The Richmond Times Dispatch 06 September 1961 The Virginia Pilot06 September 1961 The News and Advance05 September The Ledger-Star
1962 Application of Two Young Women, the Courts Ruling
18 May 1962 Roanoke Times14 July News and Advance08 October 1962 Daily Advance
The Formation of Montgomery County, Virginia and Why it Matters to Regional African American History
When Virginia’s earliest European colonial settlers first pushed westward beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains, they entered the border lands already inhabited by Indigenous peoples for thousands of years. As Europeans laid claim to these territories in the 18th century, Virginia’s county boundaries began shifting rapidly to keep pace and the need for local governance.
At first, all of western Virginia was considered part of vast counties based far to the east. Augusta County, created in 1738, stretched from the Blue Ridge to the Mississippi River—a landmass so large it was nearly impossible to govern effectively. As settlement expanded, Augusta was gradually carved into smaller counties.
Botetourt County was created in 1770 out of Augusta, and just two years later, in 1772, Fincastle County was formed to cover the far southwest. But Fincastle itself was short-lived: in 1776, it was split into three new counties—Montgomery, Washington, and Kentucky (the latter eventually becoming the Commonwealth of Kentucky).
Thus, Montgomery County was officially established in 1776, named in honor of General Richard Montgomery, a Revolutionary War hero.
Like most early counties, Montgomery did not remain the same size for long. As population grew and communities demanded closer courts and local representation, Montgomery’s original boundaries were gradually reduced.
1790: Wythe County was formed from Montgomery. 1790: Parts of Montgomery contributed to the creation of Kanawha County (now in West Virginia). 1806: Giles County was carved from Montgomery, Monroe, Wythe, and Tazewell. 1806–1830s: Additional shifts continued, with Montgomery giving land to Floyd (1831), Pulaski (1839), and others.
By the mid-19th century, Montgomery County had taken on the approximate shape we recognize today.
Why this matters
Tracing these changing boundaries shows how the western border lands of Virginia evolved from a vast Indigenous landscape into the network of counties we know today. When we study Montgomery County’s formation and its changing borders, we are not only tracking political geography—we’re also uncovering how those shifts shaped the daily realities of enslaved people and freedmen. The “line on a map” often meant the difference between where families were recorded, where they could live, and how they could begin to claim freedom and opportunity.
County seats like Christiansburg were not only centers of trade and government but also the location of the slave market and the courthouse records that tracked the lives of enslaved people. After emancipation, those same courts became the places where freedmen registered marriages, secured contracts, and sought land. As county lines shifted, so too did the jurisdictions that controlled access to justice, opportunity, and community life.
Further Discussion on How Shifting Boundaries Change Lives
Laws & Records
When county boundaries changed, so did the courthouse where records were kept. For enslaved people, this meant that bills of sale, wills, deeds, and manumission papers might end up filed under different counties as the boundaries shifted. After emancipation, the same was true for marriage licenses, labor contracts, and land purchases by freedmen. This scattering of records makes it both complicated when tracing family histories.
Shaping Community, Labor & Education
County lines determined where enslaved people were forced to labor, where patrols were organized, and where courts enforced slavery laws. After emancipation, those same boundaries shaped freedmen’s access to work, land, and schools. For example, as new counties like Giles or Pulaski were created from Montgomery, Freeman might find themselves suddenly in a different jurisdiction, dealing with a new local power structure.
Education also reflected these divisions. Freedmen near Christiansburg had better access to schools supported by the Freedmen’s Bureau, while those in rural reaches of the county received little help.
Courts and Law
During slavery, county seats (like Christiansburg) were centers of trade, law, and the slave market. Enslaved people were taken to county courts for sales, trials, and punishment. After emancipation, those same county seats became the centers where freedmen registered marriages, secured legal recognition, and later sought protection under Reconstruction policies.
Land, Freedom, and Mobility
For freedmen, land ownership was key to independence. But access to land varied widely from one county to another, depending on who owned large estates, which lands were subdivided, and how local officials treated Black landholders. County boundaries thus shaped the possibilities of building self-sustaining communities after emancipation.
This searchable document is a rich source of information about the county and its wider connections. For example, it notes that the New River boatmen once lived on Kent Farm, where they were enslaved by James Randle and Margaret Cloyd Kent prior to emancipation (see page 13). Additional details about Kentland and these freedmen can be found in the following postings: Historic Kentland and Historic Wake Forest
The names of some of the black boatmen of 19th-century Montgomery County include Frank Bannister (who was a boatman on the James River before the Civil War), Calvin Bannister, Roland Stuart, George Brown, and Lewis Smith.
This report that was written by Gibson Worsham, Dan Pezzoni, Charlotte Worsham, David Roenizer, and others. It addresses the following: 1) Overview of the county’s history, 2) A comprehensive inventory of significant structures and sites in the county and 3) Maps delineating the location of said structures and sites. Similar to the report above, this is a wealth of information about the county.
The Formation of Montgomery County, Virginia and Why it Matters to African American History of the Region
When Virginia’s earliest European colonial settlers first pushed westward beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains, they entered the border lands already inhabited by Native peoples for thousands of years. As Europeans laid claim to these territories in the 18th century, Virginia’s county boundaries began shifting rapidly to keep pace and the need for local governance.
At first, all of western Virginia was considered part of vast counties based far to the east. Augusta County, created in 1738, stretched from the Blue Ridge to the Mississippi River—a landmass so large it was nearly impossible to govern effectively. As settlement expanded, Augusta was gradually carved into smaller counties.
Botetourt County was created in 1770 out of Augusta, and just two years later, in 1772, Fincastle County was formed to cover the far southwest. But Fincastle itself was short-lived: in 1776, it was split into three new counties—Montgomery, Washington, and Kentucky (the latter eventually becoming the Commonwealth of Kentucky).
Thus, Montgomery County was officially established in 1776, named in honor of General Richard Montgomery, a Revolutionary War hero.
Like most early counties, Montgomery did not remain the same size for long. As population grew and communities demanded closer courts and local representation, Montgomery’s original boundaries were gradually reduced.
1790: Wythe County was formed from Montgomery.
1790: Parts of Montgomery contributed to the creation of Kanawha County (now in West Virginia).
1806: Giles County was carved from Montgomery, Monroe, Wythe, and Tazewell.
1831: Montgomery giving land to Floyd
1839: Montgomery giving land to Pulaski
1892: City of Radford
By the mid-19th century, Montgomery County had taken on the approximate shape we recognize today.
Why This Matters
Tracing these changing boundaries shows how the western border lands of Virginia evolved from a vast Indigenous landscape into the network of counties we know today. When we study Montgomery County’s formation and its changing borders, we are not only tracking political geography—we’re also uncovering how those shifts shaped the daily realities of enslaved people and freedmen. The “line on a map” often meant the difference between where families were recorded, where they could live, and how they could begin to claim freedom and opportunity.
County seats like Christiansburg were not only centers of trade and government but also of the slave market and the courthouse records that tracked the lives of enslaved people. After emancipation, those same courts became the places where freedmen registered marriages, secured contracts, and sought land. As county lines shifted, so too did the jurisdictions that controlled access to justice, opportunity, and community life.
The flip book of maps below is a helpful resource to understand how the boundaries changed with time. Begin on page 395.
Pulaski County Reconnaissance Survey, created by Gibson Worsham, Dan Pezzoni, and many others, is such a valuable resource. It provides vital insights into African American history in Southwest Virginia and the greater Central Appalachian region, helping us better understand the interconnected stories that shaped our communities.
Montgomery County, Virginia, has never existed in isolation.
The people who have lived here—whether by choice, through enslavement or servitude, or as Indigenous communities who established towns long before European arrival—moved across boundaries freely. They traveled, traded, fought, buried their dead, and carried out the everyday work of survival across what later became county lines.
This is why the Pulaski County Reconnaissance Survey, created by Gibson Worsham, Dan Pezzoni, and many others, is such a valuable resource. It provides vital insights into African American history in Southwest Virginia and the greater Central Appalachian region, helping us better understand the interconnected stories that shaped our communities.
This report is fully searchable and contains valuable early documentation on African American schools, churches, and communities. It also includes a generalized map that highlights both early European settlements and land tracts. For example, Dunkard’s Bottom—now submerged beneath Claytor Lake—was once part of an early German settlement.
The report also identifies significant Scotch-Irish tracts such as Draper Valley/Peak Mountain, Harrison, Robinson, Springfield, and Thorn Spring. It notes the communities of Newbern and New Dublin, along with the region’s main transportation routes: Traders Path/Leadmine Road, the Great Road/Wilderness Road/Southwestern Turnpike, Peppers Ferry Road, and the Dublin/Giles Turnpike.
The report offers a clear explanation of the early Importation and Treasury Rights system used to claim land (see pages 23–24). For further detail, see F.B. Kegley, Kegley’s Virginia Frontier, Roanoke, VA: Southwest Virginia Historical Society, 1938. p. 59.
The report contains interesting data about the enslaved, noted on page 44. Also, the churches and New River Village is discussed beginning on page 56.
In Pulaski the pattern of large landholding influenced the ownership of slaves. Whereas in Montgomery County there were 2,219 slaves, and in Pulaski only 1,589 in 1859, eight slaveholders had more than fifty slaves in Pulaski while only two landowners in Montgomery possessed as many. In both counties, however, the majority of owners possessed ten or fewer slaves. During the Civil War, the Confederacy began requisitioning slaves to work in the war effort. At the beginning of the war many slaves were requisitioned and shipped to Richmond to fortify the state capital. In the following three years slaves were requisitioned four times so that by 1865 the county found it could no longer comply as it was being drained of free and slave manpower, food supplies and money.
Timeline was created for the 2030 Comprehensive Plan of Pulaski County
A Note on the Language in the County’s Comprehensive Plan
As part of Montgomery County’s 30-year Comprehensive Plan, a historical timeline was created. While the dates provided are generally accurate, the language used to describe Indigenous people and borderlands does not align with our values.
We want our readers to be aware that these depictions reflect the language of the plan’s authors—not the values or beliefs of this website. Our commitment is to present history in a way that acknowledges the dignity, presence, and contributions of all people who have lived in this region.
Note that the African American community of “New River” came to exist after emancipation.
Southeast of the Town of Blacksburg, on the eastern side of the Allegheny Mountains, a community of African American families took root in the early 20th century when the Mills family purchased 40 acres from the Hoge family. For generations, these families farmed the land, raised children, and built their lives in this secluded karst landscape. The unpaved lane that served them was not called Nellie’s Cave Road until the 1980s, when Montgomery County officially named it. Before then, the residents knew it simply as Grissom Lane. The old farm road began at the Slusher family’s farm—located at the southeast corner of South Main Street and Country Club Drive—and ended where the terrain became too steep for a wagon to pass.
On July 5, 1852, Frederick Douglass delivered his powerful speech, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” to the Rochester Ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society at Corinthian Hall in Rochester, New York. In it, he confronted the meaning of Independence Day from the perspective of those still enslaved, asking what freedom could mean in a nation that denied it to millions.
On July 5, 1852, Frederick Douglass delivered his powerful speech, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” to the Rochester Ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society at Corinthian Hall in Rochester, New York. In it, he confronted the meaning of Independence Day from the perspective of those still enslaved, asking what freedom could mean in a nation that denied it to millions.
The copies of both the full version and excerpts are available.
Back Story Radio – excellent production and provides insightful context to the time and place.
The Compromise of 1850 included the Fugitive Slave Act, a federal law signed just two years before Mr. Douglass’s 1852 speech. As historian Eric Foner has noted, this act demonstrates that pro-slavery states were willing to abandon their usual defense of states’ rights when it came to protecting the institution of chattel slavery. Eric Foner on the Fugitive Slave Act.
Timeline of Mr Douglass’ life, presented by the Library of Congress. Brief Summary Based on the Library of Congress
Frederick Douglass married Anna Murray in 1838. Together, they had five children: Rosetta (1839), Lewis Henry (1840), Frederick Jr. (dates vary, likely born around 1842–1843), Charles Remond (1844), and Annie (1849). The family moved to Rochester, New York in 1847, where Douglass continued his abolitionist work.
In 1859, following the failed John Brown raid, Douglass fled briefly to Canada to avoid arrest, returning in 1860—the same year his daughter Annie died. That year, Abraham Lincoln was elected president, and South Carolina became the first state to secede from the Union.
During the Civil War, slavery was abolished in Washington, D.C. in 1862, and the Emancipation Proclamation took effect in 1863, freeing enslaved people in Confederate states. That year, Douglass met with President Lincoln to advocate for Black soldiers and equal treatment.
On April 9, 1865, General Lee surrendered to Grant, effectively ending the Civil War. Lincoln was assassinated five days later. The 13th Amendment, abolishing slavery, was ratified later that year.
Douglass remained active during Reconstruction, fighting for civil rights and women’s suffrage. In 1870, the 15th Amendment guaranteed the right to vote regardless of race. That same year, after a suspicious fire at their Rochester home, the Douglass family moved to Washington, D.C., where Douglass was nominated for vice president by the Equal Rights Party, alongside presidential candidate Victoria Woodhull.
In 1874, Douglass became president of the Freedmen’s Savings Bank in a final effort to save the institution, which was failing and held the savings of many newly freed people. In 1875, Congress passed a Civil Rights Act to combat public discrimination, but in 1883 the U.S. Supreme Court rules the act was unconstitutional.
By 1877, Douglass had been appointed U.S. Marshal for the District of Columbia and later purchased a home in Anacostia (now Cedar Hill). Anna Murray Douglass, his wife of 43 years, died in 1881. He married Helen Pitts in 1884.
From 1889 to 1891, Douglass served as U.S. minister to Haiti and chargé d’affaires to Santo Domingo. He died unexpectedly in 1895.
Quotes From “What To A Slave Is the Fourth of July?”
Now, take the Constitution according to its plain reading, and I defy the presentation of a single proslavery clause in it. On the other hand it will be found to contain principles and purposes, entirely hostile to the existence of slavery. . . .
Great streams are not easily turned from channels, worn deep in the course of ages. They may sometimes rise in quiet and stately majesty, and inundate the land, refreshing and fertilizing the earth with their mysterious properties. They may also rise in wrath and fury, and bear away, on their angry waves, the accumulated wealth of years of toil and hardship. They, however, gradually flow back to the same old channel, and flow on as serenely as ever. But, while the river may not be turned aside, it may dry up, and leave nothing behind but the withered branch, and the unsightly rock, to howl in the abyss—sweeping wind, the sad tale of departed glory. As with rivers so with nations.
The Merry Tree, now a broken and weathered stump southeast of the Preston home, once stood as a silent witness to over a century of enslavement. It remains a sacred place where descendants return to honor their ancestors. We are gathering stories, photos, and memories connected to this tree. Let’s preserve its powerful legacy.
Help Us Tell the Story of the Merry Tree
For over a century, the Merry Tree stood as a silent witness to the lives of the 226 people enslaved by the Preston family at Smithfield, Blacksburg, Virginia. Planted near the time the Prestons built their home, this tree bore witness to generations of forced labor, family separation, resistance, and endurance. Though now reduced to a broken and weathered stump, the Merry Tree remains a place of deep meaning—especially for the descendants of those once enslaved, who return here to remember, honor, and reflect.
We are seeking to gather as much information, memory, and meaning as possible about this special tree. Did your family speak of it? Do you have photos, stories, or oral history connected to the Merry Tree? Whether you are a descendant, community member, or researcher, your voice matters in helping us preserve and understand the role this sacred place played in Black history in Montgomery County.
Please share what you know. Together, we can ensure the story of the Merry Tree—and those who stood beneath it—is never forgotten.
This enormous sycamore stands just east of the spring that once provided potable water for the people living on the Smithfield property. The spring lies a considerable distance from the house and closer to the old Merry Oak. One can only imagine the countless gallons of water enslaved people carried from that spring to the white house on the knoll over nearly a century. Like the Merry Tree, this sycamore may have held significance for the men, women, and children forced to labor here—its presence a silent witness to their daily lives.
Gathering African American History 