I took this photo one week ago this morning. As far as I know, if you drove down Bishop L.N. Forbes Street today, this is what you’d see.
Sixteen days later, and we have had no explanation of what happened on the morning of December 10; no explanation of the original plan; no explanation of what the stones are and whether there are graves beneath them; no explanation of the path forward.
And no apology.
The City of Wilson wants you to believe that things have changed since it brutalized Vick Cemetery in the 1990s. Maybe some have, but the disrespect remains constant.
Miss Edie Bell. Aunt Pet. Aunt Minnie. Aunt Alice. Aunt Nora Lee. Aunt Lula Mae. Holiday dinners in my childhood were often spent at tables prepared by these amazing women, the grandmother and great-aunts of my cousins Monica Ellis Barnes and Tracey Ellis Leon.
I cherish warm memories of these generous women and the delicious meals they prepared — and of me, my sister, and cousins, safe and loved and well-fed.
Christmas brings joy, but also floods of memories of those we can no longer hug or break bread with. I held quiet space yesterday for memories of my grandmother and father and uncle and the Barnes sisters, and all who no longer sit with us in Wilson or wherever we once shared a table. I hope you were able to find joy and beauty in Christmas this year, and I pray for a better 2026 for all of us.
Willie Woodard Sr. celebrated his 100th birthday in September surrounded by generations of family and friends. This past Saturday, after a brief illness, he passed from labor to reward. As his son Eric Woodard shared, “He was active and vibrant for most of his 100 years of life. He cared deeply for family and friends, and he was full of good humor and had a surprisingly quick wit. He loved singing songs of praise and worship to the Lord, playing his guitar and harmonica, and most of all, praying for and sharing his faith with others.”
Rest in perfect peace, Mr. Woodard. My deepest condolences to all he loved.
In this series, which posts on occasional Wednesdays, I usually populate the landscape of Wilson County with imaginary “historical markers” commemorating people, places, and events significant to African-American history or culture. This time, I imagine a mural to commemorate the life of Samuel H. Vick.
Vick’s controversial service as postmaster of Wilson thrust him onto the national stage. Though Wilson’s handsome old Neo-Classical post office was erected long after his tenure, its Douglas Street facade is a fitting place for a tribute to Sam Vick.
I learned of Vernell Elliott this past September. She had contacted the Wilson Times to talk about her childhood, resulting in a feature on Bynum School. I reached out to Ms. Elliott, hoping to include her among the nearly 20 interviews of elders I conducted this year. She told me that she was in the hospital and not feeling up to talking, but would contact me when she felt better.
This morning, I saw Ms. Elliott’s obituary at Stevens Funeral Home’s website. She passed on 13 December 2025 at age 84. My condolences go out to her family and friends. I am sorry I was not able to hear her stories. Rest well.
Here’s an aerial from Wilson County GIS Website. The clearcutting was done in the top third of Rountree Cemetery, outlined in blue.
Here’s a link to video showing the late winter daffodils in this part of Rountree cemetery.
And here’s a link to a post I wrote two years ago about graves on that side of the street.
Maybe there’s a nefarious plot. Maybe it’s simple maintenance. We don’t know. What we do know is that the City (or its contractor) is once again rolling roughshod over an African-American cemetery.
Rather than the dialogue we have begged for, in September 2025 the City announced its choice to communicate about Vick via the passive, uni-directional, highly controlled medium of its website. Judging by its lax updating of info about prized projects like the baseball stadium — “what’s next? The buildings in the stadium footprint will be demolished soon.” — we knew where this was going. The City of Wilson is nothing if not predictable, and here we are.
One week and a day later, and silence still from the City of Wilson concerning what happened at Vick and Odd Fellows Cemeteries. No information, no explanation, no apology. From where I sit, the silence is an ineloquent “f**k you” to the cemeteries’ descendant communities and to anyone else who cares about what happens to these sacred spaces.
I’m finally in Wilson, and here’s what I saw yesterday afternoon.
Learn more about the Tate family plot here. Also, review this video from February 2020. From about 1:10-1:15, I’m walking past the high point of Odd Fellows at the Dawson and Tate plots. You can see a bit of one end of the exposed Tate wall at 1:12, then a section of the missing fourth side abutting the other end a couple of seconds later. That section is gone, scooped up and hauled away, I guess, and dumped wherever they dumped everything else they scraped away.
Here’s Vick Cemetery, post “flattening,” as Rebecca Agner put it.
And here, video from July 2023, when I walked the full front edge of Vick. The little orange-painted stobs I refer to above are visible in the first 3:30 minutes. You can see how far into the top surface of Vick the excavator cut to flatten the ditch bank.
And finally, is it another broken-up grave marker? Rip-rap? The City isn’t talking.
