How visiting the scene of our country's most divisive time gave me hope for today's crisis

Considering the nation’s increasing political divisiveness, I decided it was a good summer to expose my children to a time in history when our country was more divided than it is today.

So our family set out to explore the Civil War era by visiting the battlefields of Gettysburg, Antietam, Harper’s Ferry, First and Second Bull Run and Fredericksburg, three field hospitals, and the National Civil War Medical Museum. It was one of my favorite vacations of my life, and I want to share what we learned in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia through the eyes of my children because it gives me hope for the future.

My two oldest boys started off arguing about how West Virginia became a state. One thought West Virginia seceded into the Confederacy, while the other thought it seceded in the other direction. Our tour guide settled that debate quickly, explaining that the issue of secession so divided the area that it initially separated from Virginia and then became a new state in the Union.

Harper’s Ferry sits at the confluence of the Shenandoah River with the Potomac River. It was quite a strategic location as it served as a rail junction between the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad (B&O) and the northernmost point of the Winchester and Potomac Railroad.

It is there, on October 16, 1859, that John Brown, a staunch abolitionist, and his men raided the Federal Arsenal. Their plan was to provide slaves with rifles and other weapons. Brown thought that many slaves would join him and spread out along the Appalachian Mountains to free more slaves. The goal was to strike terror in the hearts of slave owners.

Walking along the Shenandoah River underneath the railroad tracks headed into town set a stage for all of us that was very different than just reading a history book.

Unfortunately for Brown and his men, we learned, that night didn't go as planned.

At about 1:15 a.m., John Brown’s men stopped the eastbound B&O train heading toward the nation’s capital. The group spread out, capturing strategic buildings, seizing control of the Potomac and the Shenandoah bridges, and taking hostages, including Lewis Washington (great-grandnephew of George Washington). My daughter still marvels about the fact that George Washington had descendants — as if he existed only to found our nation and then disappear.

It was during the train stop that the first casualty of the raid occurred. Heyward Shepherd was a 44-year-old baggage handler with the B&O for nearly 20 years. Mr. Shepherd and his wife, Sarah, had five children and lived in a small house in Winchester, Virginia, about 30 miles southwest of Harper’s Ferry. Shepherd was a free Black man.

My family was hanging on every word as the guide shared Shepherd’s story. Noticing the watchman’s absence, Shepherd stepped out onto the Potomac River railroad bridge and was confronted by Brown’s men. They ordered him to halt. When he turned to head back to the station, the raiders shot him in the back, killing him. The irony of killing a free Black man — one of the very people the abolitionist movement sought to help — was not lost on my children.

My youngest son spoke up first: “Wait, I thought John Brown wanted to help Black people, not shoot them?”

In truth, it was an accident. A mistake by Brown’s men. Which might have distracted Brown enough to make another. Even though Brown did not want word of his raid to reach Washington, inexplicably, he let the train continue to its destination. My daughter describes this decision as “the dumbest of the night if you were John Brown.” At his first chance, the train conductor notified authorities in Washington about what was happening at Harpers Ferry and military support was sent to quash the rebellion.

At the end of Shenandoah Street, a brick building — known as the engine house — looms large on the right side. It is “John Brown’s Fort.” All four children raced one another to get inside. Once there, our tour guide closed the doors to show how Brown and his men barricaded themselves inside. One child uttered an “uh-oh” when the doors shut, probably realizing there was no way out for Brown and his men.

Colonel Robert E. Lee, of the U.S. Army, was ordered to take command of the soldiers being sent to Harper's Ferry, retake the arsenal, and restore order to the community. My oldest son was surprised: “I thought Lee was a Confederate General? Wait, that cannot be right.”

Of course, context is everything. We reminded them all that there was only one side, not two, back in 1859.

But the best lesson of the day was yet to come. Sitting across the street, on a quiet, unassuming corner of Potomac Street is the most iconic and ironic memorial, that of Hayward Shepherd. Surrounded by controversy for nearly 100 years, the memorial was erected by the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC), a group responsible for many Confederate statues as well as one to the Ku Klux Klan. Claiming that Shepherd was a loyal slave who refused to participate in Brown’s plot, they called this monument the “Faithful Slave Memorial,” a notion which turns my stomach.

But it is the reaction of my children to this memorial which made my heart swell. They expressed anger and frustration about the idea that anyone thought a slave could condone their captivity. They recognized the bold-faced lie for what it was — an attempt to re-write history. My daughter pointed to the Underground Railroad as proof that slaves wanted freedom. My boys talked about the thousands of escaped slaves who served in the Union Army, soldiers they learned about at Gettysburg just a few days before. And they knew Shepherd was not a slave. He was free. I admit I almost cried.

For me, the best part of our journey was tracing a path through history with them at my side, hearing their conversations each evening, and talking about our experiences after returning home. Before this, I had never given much thought to the idea of tearing down Confederate memorials. And I understand the reasons for it, but here is what I know: If the memorial to Hayward Shepherd had been torn down, my family would not know his story. And we should.

Frederick Douglass called Harper’s Ferry "where the end of American slavery began." The death of Hayward Shephard heralded that end. In my opinion, the Civil War was fought to bring one nation together and his memorial should be a reminder to all of us that it did.

Dr. Niran Al-Agba is a pediatrician in Silverdale and writes a regular opinion column for the Kitsap Sun. Contact her at niranalagba@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on Kitsap Sun: Civil War era history at Harper's Ferry offers a lesson in division