We had passed the old building many times. I had heard the story of it almost as many. Two stories high. Vertical boards lining the exterior. Except for the 1/3 extension in the rear. This newer section was built of stone. The strongest section of the structure, of course. Ed told me of the old building's history. Probably not haunted, if you even believe those stories. But interesting in it's own sense. I had driven by, on my way to and from Ed's house. Never thought I'd be so curious as to look inside. Until the curiosity and interest would not leave my mind this one evening.
     The old place had been a slave shack years ago. The rear section was the slave house. Historic, for sure. Tragic in a way, but so damn interesting in another. I could see from the old gravel road we traveled, that the driveway had disappeared into the brush. Weeds, small trees, and vines took its place now. No chance of driving up the long, steep driveway. So Ed and I decide no better time than the present. I wanted a peek inside the old abandoned place. Ed couldn't dare make the steep hike up there, but managed to come close enough to point out and tell me what was what.
     The front section was a simple design. Looked as though there had been a small deck above the porch at one time, now collapsed and surrendered to the weather over the years. Straight to the rear addition, on the same side so that Ed could communicate. Honestly, I felt a little uneasy anyway. Just the thought of the goings ons of long ago, right there where I stood. Enough to give me second thoughts. On to the still-strong, wide set of steps, also built of stone. I was at the top, as far as one could be without going inside. There were no windows on this section at all. I did manage to peek through, between the back of one of the large doors and its middle hinge. Weather had really taken a toll on this place. The very thick wooden doors had even become warped. Enough for me to peek my head through. So as disappointment sat in, I realized that there wasn't anything special to be seen. Ed yelled, encouraging me to go inside. If only there were a way to. Thin vines had filled the interior, so not much was in my direct view. As I headed off toward the truck, Ed asked if I had seen the chains and ropes. I returned to see once again.
     The old slave shack still had chains and shackles, mounted from the ceiling rafters. Ropes for tying down. On the drive to Ed's house, he explained that this is where the slaves were tied, shackled, beaten or whipped. Ed had been inside as a child. The stories he had been told as a child were now being shared with me. Interesting stuff, really. To think how far we've come. Ed explained how ignorant people are when it comes to knowledge of the days of slavery. Wasn't my fore-fathers. Or his. As explained to me by Ed, only the rich could afford to have slaves then. That counted my family out, for sure.
     Back at Ed's house, I went to his garden with a paper sack, to pick some peppers to go with his dinner.

- The property where the old building stood, it's been leveled for several years now..

Uploaded 07/05/2011
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