Visiting Charleston massacre site seen as rite of passage

They travel from places such as Atlanta, Texas and Egypt, Ark. They come from Belfast, Northern Ireland, and Berlin, Germany.

Some have visited Charleston for the sole purpose of paying their respects to the nine worshippers who died in June at Emanuel AME Church and to reflect on the lessons it taught Americans about racism. To others, the Calhoun Street worship hall has become a necessary stop in their tour of the city’s restaurants and historical sites.

Some of the tourists buy T-shirts to remember their visits to the church, where the city used a dark moment in its history to blur the racial lines that have long divided parts of the Deep South; most leave behind tokens of what the place means to them. They drop off flowers, crosses, paintings, quilts and wads of cash. They sign their names on trees, fire hydrants and the sidewalk.

Without room for everything at the makeshift tribute, the church has filled a building on its property with the memorabilia. Museum and history experts from as far away as the Smithsonian Institution in Washington have started a massive archiving project to include the items in a permanent display.

Much like New York City’s World Trade Center site that was destroyed in the Sept. 11 terror attacks, the church has become a destination and a ground zero for modern racial strife. It could mark a historic turning pointing in how Americans view race.

Tourism officials hesitated to estimate how many people have inquired about visiting Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, but the building has risen nearly to the top of Charleston’s tourist attractions.

The interim pastor, the Rev. Norvel Goff, said members of his congregation were energized by a public sentiment that the church has “an open door to all visitors, regardless of color.”

“It’s become a touchstone for Charleston,” he said. “People from around the world are coming to share their thoughts and how their communities have come together in their own way because of how this community came together.”

‘Part of history’

The visitors started showing up in the few days after authorities said Dylann Roof, a 21-year-old man from Eastover with beliefs of white supremacy, fatally shot nine black people during a Bible study there.

Many had drawn inspiration from the victims’ relatives, who stood during Roof’s bond hearing and forgave him, despite the alleged hate-motivated crime. They had seen local residents of all races gather for rallies and speak out against what had happened.

Roses, carnations and posters choked the sidewalk outside the church. After getting married in a nearby church, a bride set her bouquet among the flowers.

At times, police shut down Calhoun Street because so many people had gathered there.

Nearly two months later, visitors still flow to the site every day, regardless of rain or scorching heat.

“It’s important for everyone to come and see all this support and love from all over the world,” said one of them, Jonetta Jones of Columbia, whose two children accompanied her. “It’s important to see we can all come together.”

Some people smiled and used “selfie sticks” to photograph themselves in front of the church. Others cried or kneeled in prayer.

Ariel Frierson came from Newport News, Va., to visit family, but she carved out time to see the church. Her great aunt, Susie Jackson, had died there.

Frierson and her father took pictures. They encountered a man peddling $20 T-shirts commemorating the victims. Her father bought two.

‘Worth the visit’

“It’s part of history,” Frierson said. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Visitors have signed their names or written well-wishes on banners, boards and small trees. They scribbled notes on a fire hydrant and the sidewalk. Church officials put up a sign to stop them from writing on the building itself.

Offering a glimpse at how far the massacre’s effects had spread, the visitors marked their home cities, states and countries: Baltimore; Sumerduck, Va.; Seneca, Ill.; California; New Jersey; United Kingdom.

“Indiana loves you,” one said.

“In our hearts from NYC,” another added.

“This church has been an example to us all as to what is pure,” a Miami resident wrote.

Peter Morrow, his wife and twin 3-year-old girls had flown from Belfast, Northern Ireland, for a family wedding in Myrtle Beach last week. During their stay, they explored downtown Charleston and stopped at the church.

As a native of Northern Ireland, which was ravaged by decades of sectarian violence between Catholic and Protestant extremists, Morrow could relate to the effects of senseless crime. But he said mass shootings should serve as a wake-up call for Americans to tighten regulations on firearms.

“When the shooting happened, we had second thoughts (about visiting Charleston), but I didn’t think it should stop us,” Morrow said. “It has been worth the visit. It’s amazing that people are still coming weeks after it happened.”

‘We had to come’

A tour bus slowed as it passed the church on a recent day. Through its tinted windows, Pennsylvania tourists snapped photos of people forming a prayer circle on the sidewalk. Some wept.

The tour guide spoke of an “evil” person who had visited weeks earlier.

“What he meant to be a race war turned into love and unity and peace,” she said.

“Amen,” the tourists shouted as they clapped. “Hallelujah.”

The tourists had traveled with art teacher Valerie Davis, who presented church officials with sketches of the shooting victims. Michelle Roy was one of the 50 people.

“Everyone in Charleston came together with peace and love,” Roy said. “It was just an incredible experience to be there.”

On another day, a bicycle-powered rickshaw went by.

“There was only one person they transported,” the bicyclist told his two passengers. “Everybody else was dead.”

The number of requests for Charleston Bike Taxi rides to the church was especially high shortly after the killings, business manager Allen Cowart said.

“There were definitely people who came just for that,” Cowart said. “People are still interested. If they pass by it, they’ll always ask.”

Inquiries also have poured in at the Charleston Area Convention & Visitors Bureau’s visitor centers and information services, board member Perrin Lawson said.

“I personally have had business associates from out of town ask where the church is so they could go by and pay their respects,” Lawson said.

Specific numbers of church visitors were not available, he said, but the draw for Charleston tourists is apparent on Calhoun Street.

Glenell Lee Pruitt and a fellow AME pastor flew last week from Shreveport, La. Clad in a T-shirt emblazoned with “I am AME,” Pruitt said she had visited Charleston before, but locals’ reaction to the shooting prompted their recent journey. She opted for a three-day stay at a nearby hotel to “take in the downtown flavor.”

“We just got off the plane, and this was our first stop,” Pruitt said outside the church. “This is our main reason for even coming. … We knew we had to come.”

Lexington, Texas, resident Phillip Eberz has been traveling the world for a year with his wife and two children. The church in was a last-minute stop on their journey.

The family had toured Paris, the United Arab Emirates and Moscow. They most recently completed charity work in Calcutta, India, with the Roman Catholic organization that Mother Teresa founded. Often living in a truck-bed camper shipped from the U.S., they saw 12 countries on four continents.

“When we were out of the country, there was a lot of bad news from the United States,” Eberz said. “This was one of them. But the response after this was so much better than the others.”

His family brought a hammer and nailed a small Mother Teresa medal to a board that other visitors had signed. The token had traveled with them from India.

“I just loved these memorials,” Eberz said. “I just want to say to all the people here: Thank you. Thank you for this response.”

‘Love for Charleston’

With a congregation that first formed in 1816, Emanuel is the oldest AME church in the South. Its history earned it a listing as a National Historic Site, and it drew occasional visitors interested in its past.

But a movement ignited by the shooting to have it designated as a National Park Service landmark would increase its official importance in U.S. history and likely make it an attraction for years to come.

Kenneth McNeil and his relatives recently made the trip from Georgia and Texas to see other parts of the Holy City, but the church was high on their list of must-see sites.

“We’re Christians,” McNeil said. “We just felt it was necessary to stop by.”

Keith Jayma drove here from Charlotte with his 10- and 12-year-old girls to take a Caribbean cruise. Before boarding a ship, they stopped at the church.

“I wanted to bring my girls to tell them how important it is to stop senseless violence,” he said. “This is very emotional. It brings up a lot of deep feelings you didn’t know you had.”

He and his daughters signed a banner that said, “Don’t deny. Unify.”

Since the shooting, church historian Liz Alston has watched people like Jayma sign posters or leave behind expressions of sympathy.

Volunteers from the Charleston Archives, Libraries and Museums Council have led the daily effort to remove and catalogue items amassing on the sidewalk, hoping to one day permanently display them. For now, they sit in a building steps from the makeshift memorial.

On a recent day, Alston walked through the rooms, picking through boxes filled with shawls from Arizona and a wooden Star of David from an Oklahoma synagogue. She came across $47 in cash in a box of cards from schoolchildren. On another day, an archivist sifting through 20 postal boxes of notes and cards came across a check for $10,000 from a Boston hedge fund manager.

“Every room is just filled with stuff,” Alston said. “It’s tremendous.”

Other boxes contained a wooden chalice, a cross made of Popsicle sticks, a flier offering free dental care for church members and origami doves from Holyoke, Mass. A painting of Johns Island’s Angel Oak tree leaned against the wall. Another canvas painted by a Texas artist depicted the church in front of a glowing red sky.

“They’re coming here from everywhere, and they’re bringing flowers, cards, all this memorabilia every day,” Alston said. “Just being here seems to satisfy not their curiosity for what happened, but their new love for Charleston.”

This story was originally published September 7, 2015 at 9:11 PM with the headline "Visiting Charleston massacre site seen as rite of passage."