An Open Letter & Open Report / Black History Month / Asheville High School

From: HK Edgerton []
Date: Wed, Feb 1, 2017
Subject: An Open Letter & Open Report / Black History Month / Asheville High School
To: siegels1 []

Dear Ms. Lunelle,

This morning, Wednesday, February 1, 2017, don in the uniform of the Southern soldier, to mark the beginning of Black history celebrations, I would post his Colors in the public easement at the entrance of Asheville High School, where almost two and a half decades ago I would be attacked by two Black men for doing the same.

The first to warmly greet me would be a White school teacher. Then three young Black students would do the same as they passed me by. And, many more would do the same.

Downhill, things would quickly go, as I was approached by a young Black woman, and a White man of whom I correctly guessed to be the janitor, because of the abundance of keys on his belt, and the large phones they both carried.

“Good morning,” I would say. “Don’t good morning me,” would come her reply rather gruffly. “You gonna have to get your dumb a _ _ off of our property with that racist flag.” “Mam,” I would reply, “this is not a racist flag, and I’m not going anywhere until I decide to leave.”

“Oh yes you are, with your stupid, ignorant dumb a_ _. I’m calling the police. And, you being a Black man standing in front of our school where people can see your stupid a_ _!” “Mam,” I said, trying to reason with her, “It is Black History Month, and you should be telling these babies about the Black Confederate soldier, and the integrated army he served in with honor. And, his families at home who without the Confederate army would have ground to a halt.”

Another walkie talkie carrying White man would exit the school just in time to hear the young woman unleash another round of expletives at me. “Mam, you have called me a lot of nasty names.” Interrupting me, she said that she had just got started calling me what she really thought of me. It turns out that she was Dr. Poore, the Assistant Principal.

Shortly after the lady and her entourage stormed back to the school, an officer from the Asheville Police Department would come to where I stood. “Good morning, Mr. Edgerton,” he would say with an out stretched hand. “How are you doing this morning?” I told him that I was doing just fine until the Assistant Principal had unleashed her vulgar diatribe on me for celebrating the Black Confederate soldier and his family who had earned a place of honor and much dignity alongside a man that he called family and friend on this Black History Day.

He asked what she had said, and I told him. “Mr. Edgerton, some of these people are new to the school. I shall go and see if I can calm things down. And, in the meantime, you can stay as long as you like. And, please try and have a good day.”

Pastor Louis Grant, a man that I had attended school with, would stop and give me his blessings, tell me to keep up the good work HK. “We hear you, and we love you!” I would stay until 10:30 AM, accepting the waves and many accolades from those who passed me by, with a few middle fingers, and stupid nigger go home thrown in for good measure from some Black, and White Yankees to boot. Black History Month had begun. God bless you!

Your brother,


Honorary Life Member, Zebulon Vance Camp 15 Sons of Confederate Veterans