Why I Was Here

Pouring rain separates the geeks and the eaters from the weather wimps.

Tonight's installment of VCU's speaker series, "Race, Citizenship and Memory in the South" brought Dr. James Loewen, author of "Lies My Teacher Told Me," to the student commons to discuss "What Does the Civil War Mean in Richmond Today?"

Come on, wouldn't you be curious?

When I left Jackson Ward, the rain was so faint I barely needed an umbrella, By the time I got half a mile away, the skies had opened up and zealots were probably building an ark. Even a good espadrille can't save your feet from puddles as deep as the curb.

Despite the gushing sky, easily 80% of the students had no umbrellas and it couldn't have been that they'd been caught unaware. It's been raining off and on the entire day with a forecast of rain all week. Heck, even during the brief moments when rain and thunderstorms weren't predicted today, it was still supposed to be 100% humidity.

The crowd had plenty of drenched students but also a fair number of adults show up, so many, in fact, that the powers that be eventually realized they needed to put out more chairs for the standing masses.

But the crowd definitely skewed young and when he used the phrase "Perry Mason moment," and asked how many people knew who Perry Mason was, fewer than 20 people raised their hands.

Most were like the girl who came in and spotted the Asian guy with the perfectly-manicured Mohawk and blurted out, "What are you doing here?" and when he told her he came because it sounded interesting, she turned to her vapid-looking girlfriend and asked, "Are we at the right thing?"

No, honey, unfortunately you are, although you will get nothing out of the time spent listening to this man.

Loewen began by justifiably bragging that his book was the best-selling book (1.5 million copies) by a living sociologist. And, yes, it's a book about history.

He was a good speaker, engaging the audience, moving around and not reading some pre-packaged lecture. A real character, too, not shy about sharing his opinions or suggesting what we, the audience, could do to bring about change.

Part of his cred came from having taught at the blackest university (Tupelo) and the whitest (Vermont). At Tupelo, he'd been appalled at the history knowledge of incoming freshman, only to find that it was based on the BS history (bad sociology) that was being taught at Mississippi's black high schools.

People like Loewen don't accept crap like that, so he set out to write a Mississippi history book for use in K-12 classrooms. The school board rejected it, he took them to court, won and it was accepted.

Seems the white members of the school board objected to the state's real history being taught. As the quite humorous (and white)  Loewen put it, "You don't have to be white to get history wrong, but it helps."

You don't have to be engaging or amusing to give a humanities lecture, but it helps, too.

Richmond - or at least tonight's audience - acquitted itself beautifully when he quizzed us on why South Carolina seceded from the Union. Slavery? States' rights? Lincoln? Tariffs and taxes?

The largest contingent voted for slavery, which was the correct answer, although in the scores of other cities he's posed this question to, an average of 65% of people think it was about states' rights.

That, my friends, is because of how the history books have been written for far too long (basically since 1890). Nationally, only 20% of people queried know that slavery was the real reason, providing the motivation for him to try to change that.

He made a case for how since 2000, Richmond has revised its thinking on Civil War and slavery history, citing examples - Ralph White's "stealth" markers on the Slave Trail, the Reconciliation statue - and suggesting we do more, like re-contextualizing Monument Avenue with accurate and complete historical markers.

And, hey, if markers that don't toe the white supremacy historical line cause the monuments to be defaced or vandalized, so be it. Loewen means business. He also suggested a sesquicentennial event to mark Reconstruction, a period he says needs to be better taught, more widely acknowledged and remembered for the widespread misinformation disseminated since this crucial period.

So while Loewen didn't have the hellfire and brimstone delivery of a Cornel West, his was a completely fascinating look at how whites whitewashed history for generations of neo-Confederates, a term I'd never fully understood until tonight.

Kids, this is why sometimes we have to go out in the pouring rain

Which it was still doing when the lecture ended, but now I had the luxury of time to find somewhere to eat, winding up at the Roosevelt since it had been ages since I'd dined there.

You'd think a dark and stormy Tuesday night would make for easy seating, but the place was packed with a wait for bar stools and my stomach was having none of it, so I moved on to Dutch & Co., where things were far more civilized and a stool awaited me.

From it I had a picture-perfect view of the downpour silhouetted against the street light. Given how warm it was outside, a server and I discussed how much better it would be if we were ensconced on the porch of a beach (or river) house watching the rain instead.

And although my water view was nothing more than the stream of storm runoff rushing down 27th Street, the food was fabulous.

Worth going out in the pouring rain for.

I started with slices of frankfurter sausage over turnip green puree with a killer hash of sweet potato, onion and turnip seasoned with fermented lemon drop pepper, while talking about the bike race with all the Church Hill residents around me. Everyone had been wowed by the spectacle of the bikers and the sheer magnitude of the crowds.

A fashionista type spotted my waterlogged espadrilles and mentioned that this is the time of year she scouts the DSW website for cute shoes on sale and buys them for next year. I'm not sure I've ever been that forward thinking about shoes.

Some would say this makes me a failure as a female.

After the amazingly good housemade root beer I'd had last night, I asked what their current soda was, only to learn that the soda-maker is off on his honeymoon this week. And while I'll gladly forgo a soda for the sake of a cause as romantic as a honeymoon, I heard the happy couple is currently on an island off the coast of South Carolina, no doubt as soggy as we are here.

Not that honeymooners should require sunshine to have a good time.

My next course was scallop ceviche with garlic lime chutney, cilantro, tostones and crispy shallots on Bibb lettuce with -surprise! - whipped bone marrow. The point, I soon learned, was for the fat of the marrow to mitigate the heat of the chilis. Brilliant.

I got a ringing endorsement of the Peter Chang's at the beach, both about the quality of the food and the surprise of a dim sum menu. Surely, two of us decided, it's not too late for one more day getaway to the beach, especially with a superb dinner at the end of it?

By the time I finished eating and chatting, the dining room was down to two tables and the bar crowd and since it was pouring again, it didn't seem likely that there'd be another rush. You know how some people hole up once it starts to rain cats and dogs.

Which is great if you're on your honeymoon.

For the rest of us, there are southern lessons to be learned and fine foods to be eaten. At my age, I don't have to ask a friend. I was at the right things.