A group of neighbors sits at an outdoor table on a pleasantly warm evening in Red Bank, Tennessee, an enclave of Chattanooga. There are cold drinks and light snacks. A leafy tree canopy rustles overhead; ice shifts in a cooler.

The scene is friendly and convivial, but when conversation shifts to a gruesome history that lies beneath nearby Stringer’s Ridge, the group struggles to find the right words. Less than a half mile away, in a deep ravine blanketed with invasive kudzu, hundreds of people, mostly Black, were buried between 1890 to 1912—though not all of their bodies remain.

“Are there headstones?” someone asks. No, there are not. So “cemetery” feels inaccurate.

“What about ‘burial ground’ then?” another chimes in. No, that won’t work either. According to reports some of the group are familiar with, graves were at times covered by only a thin layer of leaves, hardly a proper burial.

“Mass grave” doesn’t quite apply, as it evokes images of war. Though the history of this place—known, for now, as “the Field”—is rife with brutality. Bodies were packed in inadequate goods boxes and left exposed, some to be consumed by wild animals; cadaver theft for monetary gain or medical study (or both) was commonplace. The stories of injustice go on.

A Tragic History, Rediscovered

Trust for Public Land first learned of the Field—a place forgotten for over a century—while building the White Oak Connector Trail. The .8-mile path connects Stringer’s Ridge, a beloved natural area overlooking Chattanooga and laced with hiking and mountain biking trails, to White Oak Park in Red Bank.

Two researchers—one a historian from Georgia, the other a member of the African American Cemetery Preservation Fund—were attempting to locate burial sites connected to their work, believing the graves to be in the vicinity of the White Oak Connector Trail. Their paths eventually converged with TPL and the City of Red Bank.

And with that, what began as a relatively straightforward project: creating a trail to connect two parks and two nearby communities, suddenly became a priority on our Black History and Culture roster. For decades, TPL has worked to preserve sites that tell the experience of Black life in America. The Field, we now know, is one of these places.

This land was what is often called a “potter’s field” or “paupers’ cemetery,” where residents whose families couldn’t afford burial costs were interred. Among them were unnamed infants, industrial laborers, immigrants, and a great many Black Chattanoogans—including Henry Hightower, a veteran of the U.S. Colored Troops, and Alfred Blount, one of two Black men to be lynched on Chattanooga’s Walnut Street Bridge for a crime he didn’t commit. (The other was Ed Johnson, a memorial to whom now marks the south entrance to the bridge.)

An iron marker with the number 342 shows through damp fallen leaves.

The graves of those buried at the Field are mostly unmarked, though some numbered cast-iron plates like this one remain today. Photo: Martin Granum

Their graves are mostly unmarked. Though some numbered cast-iron plates remain today, the accuracy of their placement is dubious at best.

“The people buried in the Field made Chattanooga what it is. They were the lifeblood of this city.”

– Maia Council, a public history research associate at the University of the South

In the words of Maia Council, a public history research associate at the University of the South, “The people buried in the Field made Chattanooga what it is. They were the lifeblood of this city.” Undervalued in life and mistreated in death, they were the powerful workforce behind the Dynamo of Dixie. “It’s really important to honor them as citizens of Chattanooga,” she says. “Those are your community members.”

Dr. Jocelyn Imani, director of TPL’s Black History and Culture efforts, sees the Field as an example of “the complications of Black history and culture,” describing it as a piece of land with a “shameful legacy.” But it’s also a project that, with proper support, she believes TPL is uniquely poised to address.

To that end, TPL is working with Donivan Brown, former chair of the Ed Johnson Project and our lead community consultant on the Field. He believes “history leads us back to places that inform us in areas that we need to heal as people.” Brown is researching those interred at the Field and collaborating with TPL, the Cities of Red Bank and Chattanooga, Hamilton County, and the local community to determine how best to restore and remember the site.

 

From Horror to Healing

“There are wounds, pains, traumas that we as a nation are being haunted by,” says Brown, but there is hope and “a sense of jubilation” that comes with recognition and healing. He sees his work as a path toward that goal and has even proposed a funeral for those buried at the Field.

“I don’t think we’re a country that processes grief all that well,” he says. “The way through this as a community is to be up front and to process that grief. Having grieved, it will allow people who want to invest in this to fully engage in the creative endeavor of making it something new.” That new life could take many forms, from private tours to interpretative signage along the trail, to an elevated walkway for visitors to pay respects from above.

Making it something new is where collaboration, funding, and patience are crucial. Imani recognizes that “it’s a journey that’s going to take some time.” But she—and everyone involved—feels a need to “champion the stories of the dead who are there.”

Sal Arrigo, chair of the Red Bank Cemetery Citizens’ Advisory Board, which will eventually help steward care of the site, says stories like these must not be forgotten: “It’s part of our nation’s history, no matter what people try to tell you.”

Trust for Public Land’s Tennessee state director, Noel Durant, feels a deep responsibility toward the land and says he’s been fortified by “the broad base of support” from all sides.

“There’s a clear humanity behind it,” says Durant. “When faced with situations where the dignity of fellow people has been undermined or completely disregarded, it comes as such an affront. We can do better.”

Imani agrees there is something uniquely unifying about the horror of the Field’s story: “When it comes to desecrated sacred space, it invokes another modality,” she says. In case of the Field, that modality is teamwork.

At an early meeting to discuss the site’s future, Red Bank City Manager Martin Granum recalls there being “a quiet resolution and commitment.” Everyone in the room was on the same page: “We’ll get there. All of us will get there together.”

 

A Lifelong Assignment

It’s exactly this type of teamwork and collaboration that TPL is facilitating with its Black History and Culture work nationwide. Take our Rosewood Museum project in north central Florida, where recognition of painful events is being similarly employed as a means to heal trauma an approach Lizzie Robinson Jenkins is very familiar with.

Jenkins’s purpose started with her mother. While some kids receive a recurring list of chores or encouragement to take up a particular career, Jenkins was given a lifelong assignment—at the age of 5—to remember her family’s history and share it.

That history is embedded in the story of the Rosewood Massacre, in which a white mob decimated a thriving African American town in 1923, forcing those who survived to flee and ultimately relocate.

Jenkins’s aunt, Mahulda Gussie Brown Carrier, was attacked during the raid. But she survived. Carrier’s story was untold for many years, until Jenkins’s mother shared it with her children. She essentially told them to follow a now-familiar Black Lives Matter creed: “Say her name” and never forget.

Jenkins founded the Real Rosewood Foundation in 2003 and has been working for over 20 years to elevate the story of the massacre and—perhaps more important—the resilience of the community and its now far-flung descendants.

 

A gray-haired women wearing glasses and in a blue jacket and white shirt smiles in a room of photos and memorabilia
In Their Words
“I’m no longer angry. I’m happy because so many people have stepped forward and wanted to help."

— Lizzie Robinson Jenkins, founder and president of the Real Rosewood Foundation

Empathy through Education

Kate Brown, TPL senior project manager for the Rosewood Museum, says the project is “making more progress than ever” since TPL received a $480,000 grant from the Florida legislature meant for capital improvements related to Black history. Trust for Public Land is using the funds to help the local community envision and design a museum building and grounds that will be sustainable into the future.

To be located near Gainesville in Alachua County—where Carrier and other survivors rebuilt their lives—the Rosewood Museum will be managed in partnership by the county and the Real Rosewood Foundation.

Brown says the goal is to “interpret, remember, and memorialize” while uplifting the tale of a community that rebuilt itself. Though rooted in trauma and racial violence, the story is also one of agency and determination. “The joyful part of the story is not just surviving but thriving,” says Brown, who marvels at the Rosewood community’s fortitude.

Jenkins, who wowed attendees at the National Council of Black Studies conference in 2023 by singing Rosewood’s history in the form of a folk song, pictures the museum as a community gathering space and a safe place for reflection. “I’m no longer angry,” says the 86-year-old. “I’m happy because so many people have stepped forward and wanted to help.”

The Real Rosewood Foundation sees remembrance as way to “underscore the urgent need for education, empathy, and justice in our society today.” Jenkins would like to see younger generations visit the museum and learn from the past. “History is who we are,” she says. “Good, bad, or ugly, we cannot erase it or change it.” But we can use it to forge a path to a better future.

Being There Matters

You might wonder: What does Black history have to do with land conservation? In the words of TPL cofounder and former president Martin Rosen, “merely everything.”

His thinking—which is mirrored in Imani’s leadership of TPL’s current Black History and Culture work—is that engaging with all communities in public spaces, indoors and out, enriches everyone’s lived experiences.

Imani says we need to meet communities where they are by creating safe gathering spaces such as the Rosewood Museum and the Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Monument in Jackson, Mississippi. TPL and the National Park Service celebrated the opening of the latter in June 2023.

According to Keena Nichelle Graham, the park superintendent, “Working with a partner like TPL, who understands that community engagement is just as important as getting the physical work done, made all the difference in the world. [TPL staff] treated our neighbors with respect and dignity,” she adds. “I can say without exaggeration that TPL was the alpha and omega for opening the Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Monument.”

The project is the first in TPL’s Alliance for Civil Rights Historic Sites—where, in partnership with the National Park Service, community advocates, and philanthropic leaders, we’re restoring and investing in historic National Park Service sites across the south, including the Birmingham Civil Rights and Freedom Riders National Monuments in Alabama, the Natchez National Historical Park in Mississippi, and others. “Places hold meaning,” says Imani of the effort. “They play a critical role in constructing our collective memory and guide what we value as a society.”

The Evers’ former home is the site of civil rights leader Medgar Evers’s assassination—a catalyst for passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964—but the national monument also signifies and celebrates the couple’s legacy of activism and courage, where they organized, as Graham puts it, “a revolution of the soul of this country.”

When we set foot in the spaces and places where these stories happened, it allows for reflection on the full truth of history.”

– Diane Regas, former TPL president and CEO

Trust for Public Land Mid-South Program Director Stacey Shankle says it’s likely tens of thousands of people have already been visiting the home each year, often on buses as part of civil rights tours that have been disruptive to neighbors. Now, thanks to TPL’s conversion of a nearby vacant lot, there’s a proper entry point and room for discourse and contemplation outside the home, which has limited interior capacity. “There’s a hunger for that conversation,” says Shankle. “The impact and lessons the Evers provided us as a country only get amplified from this point forward.”

He also notes that the site helps put Jackson on the map when it comes to civil rights tourism, a boon to the local economy—especially in tandem with the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum, which opened in 2017. Designation of the Evers’ home as a national monument by the National Park Service elevates the experience with quality interpretation and on-site experts. So far, “reception from the community has been spectacular,” says Shankle.

A female National Park Service employee wearing a uniform stands at a podium and smiles at seated attendees.

Park Superintendent Keena Nichelle Graham and Myrlie Evers (seated) exchange a meaningful glance at the opening of Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Monument. Photo: courtesy of the National Park Service

Diane Regas, Trust for Public Land’s president and CEO from 2018 to 2024, attended the Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Monument opening, which took place during the week of the 60th anniversary of Medgar’s murder. Her experience at the site testifies to the importance of physically being there: “When we set foot in the spaces and places where these stories happened,” she says, “it allows for reflection on the full truth of history.”

Ordinary People, Extraordinary Lives

The Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Monument celebrates Black culture and the impact the Evers had on their community in Jackson and beyond.

Medgar was the NAACP’s first field secretary for Mississippi. He also served as program director for the Regional Council ofNegro Leadership, which encouraged Black voter registration and business ownership. Myrlie worked alongside him and steadfastly continued their efforts after his death; in fact, she is still advocating for social justice and racial equity today.

The Evers’ home is in the historic Elraine district, the first neighborhood owned, developed, and designed by African Americans in Jackson, which is emblematic of the time and place in which the couple lived. Medgar’s status as a decorated World War II veteran helped him acquire a VA loan when many Black Americans were denied mortgages by white-owned banks. The neighborhood’s background is included at the new entry point for the monument, which also includes a garden dedicated to Myrlie Evers.

In the words of Superintendent Graham, the site will help people realize that the civil rights movement “consisted of normal people in neighborhoods making things happen.” The Evers raised kids, held jobs, and socialized with their neighbors—all while “doing extraordinary things,” says Graham.

“I hope to foster an environment that inspires people—regardless of background—to look within their neighborhoods, within their homes, and within themselves for opportunities to make a positive change,” she adds.

Graham’s words could be describing another advocate for Black Americans: Jesse Allen, a community organizer and city council member in Newark, New Jersey, who was considered one of the most effective leaders of the Newark Community Union Project.

The NCUP was associated with Students for a Democratic Society, a radical political movement that organized disenfranchised African American communities against discriminatory practices in the mid-1960s. Described by community member Edna Thomas as “down to earth and sincere,” Allen was said to be especially effective because of his ability to relate to others.

He specialized in tenant organizing, including rent strikes intended to force landlords to repair neglected buildings. He was also said to be a great listener—an aspect mirrored in the renovation of his eponymous park, on which TPL was a partner. A core tenet of Trust for Public Land’s work is our participatory design process, where we center residents in envisioning what their green spaces can be.

Jesse Allen Park first opened in 1979, but by the time Trust for Public Land got involved in 2009, planning to update it to better serve community needs, the park had become an eyesore and was “torn up and dilapidated,” per Donna Kirkland, TPL’s senior director of community engagement in Newark.

New York Jets players, members of the New Jersey National Guard, and children from the Boys and Girls Club using the Fitness Zone at Jesse Allen Park. Photo: Frances M. Roberts

New York Jets players, members of the New Jersey National Guard, and children from the Boys and Girls Club using the Fitness Zone at Jesse Allen Park. Photo: Frances M. Roberts

A Green Space Reborn

Three phases and over a decade later, the park’s rebirth was complete. Fully renovated in 2022, it now features a long walking path, facilities for basketball, volleyball, soccer, lacrosse, and tennis; a full-size (yes, full size!) football field; a playground and multiple seating areas; a skate park the first in a Newark park; and a Fitness Zone®️ area. Players from the New York Jets and children from the nearby Boys and Girls Club of Newark worked side by side to design the latter, an outdoor exercise space. “What I think is important about that park,” says Imani, “is its culture. It’s in the heart of a community.”

The city’s second-largest municipal park, it now provides more than 18,000 people who live within a half mile with easy access to park space. What’s more, its design incorporates green infrastructure elements that help combat the effects of climate change, such as rising heat and floods. The playing fields feature a sophisticated stormwater capture system that holds rainwater in underground storage tanks and then releases it into the city’s sewer system over time, helping reduce overflows of untreated water into Newark Bay.

Imani sees TPL’s Black History and Culture efforts as encompassing community gardens, urban parks, and schoolyards—in addition to historic sites. And she emphasizes the importance of time spent outdoors and connecting with neighbors: “There is a kid in some neighborhood who needs to come across old men playing chess in their community park and learn from them,” she says. “They can’t do that if we haven’t built the park.”

“We have to get outside. We have to breathe fresh air and put our feet in the grass. It is a human necessity, and it is a matter of life and death.” – Dr. Jocelyn Imani, TPL national director of Black History and Culture

In most cities, there are fewer and/or smaller parks in neighborhoods of color and low-income communities, which are often areas that have been systematically disinvested in through redlining or other forms of discrimination. This has created a gap in park equity that green spaces like Jesse Allen Park are helping to close.

“We have to get outside,” says Imani. “We have to breathe fresh air and put our feet in the grass. It is a human necessity, and it is a matter of life and death.” That’s not hyperbole. Lacking green space has serious consequences to mental and physical health—while access to it has major benefits. Numerous studies have shown that time spent outside is associated with reduced risk of obesity, stress, and depression.

Parks also provide a sense of pride and belonging and foster social cohesion, something Jesse Allen championed. He saw that when people came together, change was possible.

 

Strength in Numbers

Naomi Davis, founder and CEO of Chicago-based nonprofit Blacks in Green, also believes in the power of united communities—and the role of green space in uplifting them. The group is known for its Sustainable Square Mile concept, a model for Black community development designed to increase household income and create an oasis of resilience through green economies in energy, horticulture, housing, tourism, and waste. Davis says only a whole-system solution “can transform the whole-system problem common to Black communities everywhere.”

A woman with a microphone speaks to a crowd at an outdoor event

Black in Green founder and CEO Naomi Davis speaks at a community planting event at the Mamie Till-Mobley Forgiveness Garden in Chicago, Illinois. Photo: Kamil Krzaczynski/courtesy of Timberland

Blacks in Green relies on synergy between many moving pieces for its vision of environmental justice and green community development to be realized. Part of that vision includes an ambitious plan to create 16 community gardens dedicated to luminaries of the Great Migration. TPL helped launch the third of these, the Mamie Till-Mobley Forgiveness Garden, in 2019. Its namesake is the mother of Emmett Till, who, in 1955, was kidnapped, tortured, and killed by white supremacists at the age of 14 while visiting family in Mississippi. (Both Emmett and his mother were recognized by the designation of a national monument in their names in 2023.)

In an act of extreme courage, Mamie Till-Mobley famously held Emmett’s funeral with a glass-topped casket, putting the brutality of his murder on display for the world to see—and be horrified by. The Mamie Till-Mobley Forgiveness Garden, which is near the Till family home in Chicago’s West Woodlawn neighborhood, invites visitors to heal from decades of painful racism and honors Emmett’s mother, a teacher and advocate for civil rights and children’s education.

It will also serve as an anchor for the Great Migration Gardens of West Woodlawn to come, which will be dedicated to other important figures of the era, such as playwright Lorraine Hansberry and sculptor Richard Hunt.

Trust for Public Land helped with improvements to the Till-Mobley garden and drew on our Equitable Communities Fund and contributions from the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation and L.L.Bean to purchase two plots for additional gardens near the Till home, which is slated to become a museum, theater, and heritage hub under the direction of Blacks in Green.

Property Is Power

Illinois State Director Caroline O’Boyle recalls getting word that TPL was going to provide Blacks in Green with $100,000 to help purchase the additional lots: “I went to a Halloween event with a mock $100,000 bill in my pocket,” she says. O’Boyle then prompted Davis to ask, “Trick or treat?” Davis did, and O’Boyle surprised her with the funds. “She started bawling,” says O’Boyle. Nearby onlookers seemed concerned. “No, they’re happy tears,” she recalls with a smile.

As Davis sees it, buying land is the most effective means of combatting wealth disparity and displacement in this country. You must buy the land,” she says. “Nothing trumps ownership of the land. We have enough money if we work together—and with friends like TPL.”

“Every place has a story. You find those places and lift them up. We call it the narrative of triumph.”

– Naomi Davis, founder and CEO of Blacks in Green

In addition to assisting with property acquisition, O’Boyle views TPL’s role in the garden series as “making sure there is a through line that connects it,” adding, “the expertise that we bring to bear in completing that initiative is really exciting.”

She also mentions a possible opportunity to help advance the Sustainable Square Mile using data and insights from TPL’s Land and People Lab. Blacks in Green has applied for a grant from the Environmental Protection Agency that, if received, will fund the use of TPL’s Natural Solutions Tool to complete an economic analysis and identify places in West Woodlawn where green infrastructure would be most beneficial. (TPL assisted with the application and will receive a portion of grant funds if it’s awarded.)

Success is all about agency and ownership. “We’ve got to tell our own stories,” Davis remarks. “Every place has a story. You find those places and lift them up. We call it the narrative of triumph. We are people of triumph.”

Yellow and white flowers bloom alongside a gravel trail

Black-eyed Susans and fleabane grow along the White Oak Connector Trail between Chattanooga and Red Bank in Tennessee. Photo: Amy McCullough

A Path Forward

Back in Tennessee, the stories of the Field are still being uncovered.

Donivan Brown says the dead don’t ask for anything. But they deserve something: “a solemn place left free of violation.” While we can’t undo past wrongs committed in Chattanooga, Rosewood, Jackson, and across our country, we can move forward with acknowledgment and respect.

On another warm early summer day, the scene along the White Oak Connector Trail (below) is bright and peaceful. Black-eyed Susans and fleabane sway in a breeze that pushes the occasional, welcome cloud between the sun and the earth. Despite everything wrong that took place in the hilly ground adjacent to this trail, the people whose bodies remain in the Field are now part of a beautiful, calm, natural place—a solemn place, free from violation. And it will only get better from here.

Amy McCullough is managing editor and senior writer at Trust for Public Land. She is also the author of The Box Wine Sailors, an adventure memoir.

 

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