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Even as the vegetation within the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery thrives on fresh spring rain and plenty of sunshine, the terminated lives of those buried there continue to reflect the age old white supremacy that has shaped the present day university. In fact, it is this same rain that has, up until the beginning of April 2005, left the segregated western end drowned in a bog from lack of gutters, such as those gracing the pathways of the prominent eastern end; and the same rain that has in time reduced to indentations the names that marked any identified slave graves. The answer spans centuries, from the present day to the 1600s, when race became a ground for dividing power amongst people. Evidence of inequality and segregation is evident with every grave in the cemetery as well as within grave discussions concerning allocation of funds to the cemetery and controversy over the recent retirement of a scholarship bearing the name of a prominent cemetery resident. In time, it is these discussions which will determine the extent to which UNC’s segregated past is remembered, understood, and used as a tool for creating a more complete history of Carolina. Cornelia Phillips Spencer For many years the legacy of Cornelia Phillips Spencer, who now resides in the cemetery's eastern end, lived on in the form of a prestigious scholarship for women at UNC. The present day debate over the Bell Award has also sparked plans for setting up guidelines for future awards. Within these guidelines both Spencer's descendants and the University desire an outcome that, "Clarifies Spencer's positive legacy and adds some clarity to the University's dealings with its history." (Blythe, Anne) Questions that arise from this dilemma, such as whether or not to reinstate a similar award, will ultimately decide which direction Carolina takes in allowing its history of racial injustice to unfold in the eyes of the present. Funding Feuds Debate over funding for improvements to the cemetery are heavy with the weight of a past not easily forgotten by its resident’s descendants, yet not easily accessed by those who wish recall the lives and contributions of the unidentified and eroding characters resting in the western end. It is these disappearing links that may piece together personal family histories of separated slave families and reveal insight into the forgotten aspects of Carolina’s past. The debate also encompasses a turning point in the preservation of physical contributions made directly to the cemetery by more widely known and historically celebrated sources such as the Dialectic and Philanthropic Societies. Giving rise to accusations of institutional racism within the committee is the debate over allocation of a disproportionate amount of money for restoration and preservation of dilapidated structures revered as historic public art, and for improvements to the cemetery’s onsite interpretation at the gazebo, while forgoing much needed restoration work in the African American section. While such a decision was ultimately not made, the differences of opinion reveal the fragmented and processual nature of the cemetery’s collective memory. These are the decisions that give history its ever changing meanings, each one carrying the choice of remembering versus forgetting, and possibly allowing unseen aspects of the past to be brought into view and used to create more complete histories of the University and Chapel Hill itself. Driving the desire to complete the restoration of the Dialectic and Philanthropic Societies (Di-Phi) fences first is their role in the Cemetery’s nomination to the National Register of Historic Places, and the possibility that their successful restoration could be used in initiating support for other improvement efforts within the cemetery. Successfully completing the restoration of attractive structures such as the Di-Phi fences could help support additional funding for more functional, less attractive projects. However, many of these less attractive projects also demand immediate attention in order to save quickly fading artifacts, and the successful completion of the Di-Phi fence project risks hogging the money needed to save such artifacts. In the end, this problem was amended by contribution of additional funding in order to carry out the restoration projects currently viewed as needing immediate attention. One project benefiting from this decision is the installation of a much needed gutter along the western-most driveway, in the heart of the African-American section. The gutter will not only help with drainage issues, but will also slow down the erosion process that has been fracturing and destroying historic graves, thus allowing their memory to be preserved from unnecessary damage. The greater interest in preserving the memory of items such as the Di-Phi fences in the eastern end versus preserving and exploring the memories contained in the western end reflects the disproportionate recognition throughout UNC of people buried within the Cemetery. Throughout campus, one may identify buildings possessing names identical to those on many graves from both sections of the cemetery such as Brooks, Caldwell, Davis, Carroll, and Miller, yet none of these buildings have been named in honor of those resting in the segregated western end. The sole memorial to a black buried in the cemetery stands as the tallest monument in the cemetery over the grave of Wilson Swain Caldwell, the son of President Caldwell's slave "manservant." The monument stood as a marker to President Caldwell’s grave in McCorkle Place where he rests with his wife, until a new obelisk was erected in line with Silent Sam, and the old moved to its current place in the cemetery. Making up for this fragmentation between races is the installment of a new memorial on campus near the Caldwell memorial, yet one immediately notices that it is not in line with the other memorials standing in McCorkle Place. There is a simple reason for this placement, however, as factors concerning damage to tree root systems and the artist’s wish for the monument to be in the shade narrowed the site possibilities. (Zelsdorf, Adam) Given as a class gift by the class of 2002, the Unsung Founders Memorial pays homage to the slaves who contributed to the physical founding of the University, many of which rest in the Cemetery’s western end. Having struggled to live well in a world full of racism, the silent occupants of the cemetery’s western gravesites now rely on the voices of the living to overcome present day struggles concerning funding and centuries old ignorance about the history of Carolina. The silence itself holds much to learn from, if one only takes the time to listen and reflect within it. |
If one takes a simple stroll from the cemetery's west end to the east end, the landscape's transformation from a terrain sparsely dotted with modest unmarked stone structures and simple brick borders to a dense forest of elaborate headstones and intricate cast iron fences leaves one to wonder, in this modern age, the reason for such a stark contrast. 
The Cornelia Phillips Spencer Bell Award, commemorating the day in 1875 when Spencer rang the South Building bell in celebration of the University's reopening, was retired in December 2004, and has since then stirred up more than a little controversy. Recent study of Spencer’s archived letters and articles written in the 1800’s has revealed a previously "whitewashed" side of Ms. Spencer's attitudes towards blacks and has created an excellent opportunity for the University to take action towards a more complete history of Carolina (Dann, Kevin). 
In saving these graves the links connecting those buried in the cemetery to their living ancestors stand a greater chance at successfully uniting fragmented family histories. There is an abundance of history within these broken links that could also be considered as a factor in the cemetery’s listing within the National Register of Historic Places, seeing that many of these unidentified occupants played enormous roles in the state and University’s current success and physical presence.
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