Watching History Turn to Rubble

When I first saw the photos of the demolition at the White House East Wing, I felt a physical ache, almost like watching a part of democracy itself being beaten with a massive piece of machinery. The White House is not just a building. It is a living record of the people and ideals that have passed through it. Seeing part of it torn down, despite assurances that it would remain intact, feels like losing something that belonged to all of us.

Many people felt the same way here locally when our county courthouse was demolished earlier this year. The Botetourt County Courthouse, though, was not the historic structure many seemed to think it was. It was a replica, built in 1975 after a 1970 fire destroyed the 1848 building. That 1970 fire was our version of watching a wrecking ball smash through the People’s House, the White House.

The county courthouse in 2018.

Tearing down the Botetourt County Courthouse

The Botetourt County Courthouse that recently fell had serious issues: black mold, poor construction, and cramped space. It was an imitation in many ways, more a copy of history than history itself.

When the county decided to rebuild, the process was deliberate. Phase 1 funding was approved in 2022, the project was carefully planned and phased, and records show that the public could have followed along if they had been paying attention. 

County officials met with Town of Fincastle officials and brought in local historians for meetings. It was a years-long process. And while they did not hold public hearings – legally, there was no need to do that – they did let the public know what was coming.

Additionally, the county made an attempt to salvage or preserve some elements of the historic aesthetic so the new courthouse would honor the past while serving today’s needs.

I understood the grief and frustration that many exhibited as the county courthouse came down, though. It was a beautiful building. It did seem a waste that it lasted no longer than 50 years. 

I also knew the courthouse replacement was a difficult but necessary decision.

The White House

Removing the East Wing of the White House feels different, and while I am seeing people on one side laugh at people on the other (the same people who were upset that the county courthouse was demolished see nothing wrong with tearing down the White House, it appears), what I don’t see is process.

This is what should have happened: there should have been an initial proposal that went through various channels, followed by an historic review, the planning and environmental oversight, an aesthetic review, and final authorization. None of that seems to have taken place.

The current administration decided, unilaterally, to remove historic elements and construct a $300 million (and rising) ballroom. There was no public consultation, no effort to preserve the original structure. It feels brazen and unnecessary, as if a piece of shared memory, a civic soul, has been erased for personal vision. As I watched part of the White House turn to rubble, I did not just mourn the building; I mourned the disregard for history itself.

The difference between these two experiences is clear. One was deliberate, a balance between practicality and preservation. The other is a stark reminder that even the most iconic structures can be treated as expendable when care and oversight are absent.

In the end, it is heartbreaking to see how carelessness can destroy in a day what reverence built over generations.

The East Wing removed. Photo from financialexpress.com

Mountain Magic

The other week, we went to the Mountain Magic festival that is held in the other end of the county every year.

We saw lots of old cars.

They also had crafters, a place for the kids to play, and music:

Historic Fincastle Festival

Saturday was the date of the annual Historic Fincastle Festival, a time when crafters, history interpreters, and others all come together to showcase the town.

It was a little different this year. First, the courthouse is just a pile of rubble, since the county has torn it down to make way for a new one. That's not exactly a picturesque setting.

Second, the weather forecast was dire.

We were getting ready about 10:30 to head to the festival when I realized my glasses had something wrong with them. I picked them up and they broke in half at the weld on the bridge.

After much scrambling through drawers, I found an old pair of glasses that looked close to what I had, and we drove to Roanoke to LensCrafters to see if they could put my lenses in the old frames.

Fortunately, that worked out just fine. Whew.

It was about 2 p.m. when we finally arrived at the festival.

It was dead, or nearly there. Some tents with crafters remained, but we saw others packing up and leaving, even though there were still two hours to go.

Unbeknownst to us, some of the vendors had moved into one of the church's meeting halls, but there were no signs to indicate that, and we never went that far along the route.

It is never good when an event goes sour like this. The Fincastle Festival used to be a very big deal. Back in the 1980s and early 1990s, I feel sure at least 20,000 people visited the 2-day affair. It was a big money-maker for Historic Fincastle, Inc.

The festival then was so full of people, I could barely squeeze my way through the crowd. Kids ran all over the place and the craft booths overflowed with lookers and buyers.

But times change, and people grow old. The festival took a hiatus for a while in the 2000s, and returned as a smaller version of itself, just a one-day affair.

The weather makes a difference, too. A day like Saturday, when the clouds were dark and brooding, and rain drops splattered the windshield, doesn't exactly make anyone want to be outside.

Here are a few shots of the festival:

From the Springhouse to the City Tap

In 2013, my husband and I spent close to $100,000, along with weeks of sweat and labor, to fence our cattle out of the springs and ponds on our farm. We live on land that feeds Tinker Creek, and like many in our area, we’ve always known that the water starts around here. It bubbles up out of the ground, clear and cold, and gathers itself from every spring and seep along these Botetourt hillsides until it becomes something big enough to name.

We took on the project through the Mountain Castle Soil and Water Conservation District, with partial help from federal cost-share programs. But a lot of it came straight out of our pockets. My husband laid miles of pipe by hand, running water from a well to troughs so the cows could drink without stepping into the streams. We did it because it was the right thing to do for our land, for the wildlife, for the water downstream.

That water, of course, ends up in Carvins Cove.

Most folks around here know that the reservoir sits just over the line in Roanoke County, but part of it is actually in Botetourt. What many forget - or maybe never knew - is that the water in Carvins Cove is largely Botetourt water. Tinker Creek, Catawba Creek, and dozens of smaller veins start here, not in the city. Springs like ours feed them. The Tinker Creek diversion tunnel, built decades ago, rerouted that water into the reservoir. With the turn of a valve, it went under the mountain.

Botetourt County officially joined the Western Virginia Water Authority in 2015, but that doesn’t erase what came before. Back in the 1930s and '40s, Roanoke City needed water. It looked north, acquired the land, and built the dam. The community of Carvins Cove was condemned and flooded out. Families lost their homes. The city owned the reservoir and, for decades, controlled the flow without asking much of the county where the water began.

Now, Botetourt citizens pay the same rate for water as anyone else in the region. That’s how the Water Authority works: a uniform rate for a shared system. Fair on paper, maybe. But it still bothers me. We protect the source. We fund the conservation. We watch the rain fall here, the springs rise, the runoff roll downhill—and then county residents on public water pay the same as folks whose water comes through miles of pipe and a whole other county. (We are on a well, not public water.)

To me, for the folks who have to use the water that originates here, that feels a little like buying your own apples back from the store.

I understand how infrastructure works, and I understand the need for regional partnerships. What I don’t understand is why there’s still so little public acknowledgment of where the water comes from and who’s been caring for it all this time.

Carvins Cove is one of the largest municipal parks in the country now. A conservation easement protects over 11,000 acres around it. People hike and bike there, unaware that the water under their feet may have started in a cow pasture ten miles away where someone like us chose not to let the cows walk through it.

Water is going to become more important than ever in the years ahead. Google in June bought 312 acres in Botetourt County to possibly build a data center. There’s been talk about infrastructure, power, and taxes—but not much yet about where the water’s going to come from. I can tell you this much: it’s not going to come from Roanoke. It’s going to come from us. From our farm and all the farms around us who have springs that flow on into Tinker Creek.

And we’ll still be here watching the deer, walking our fields, and keeping our springs clean. Whether anyone says thank you or not.

Google Comes

Yesterday the county Board of Supervisors announced that Google has purchased 314 acres from the business complex known as the Botetourt Center at Greenfield.

The county sold the acreage for a total of:

$18 million from the land sale and Google’s additional contributions will go toward a slew of projects, including:

$4.9 million for new fire trucks and ambulances,

$3.6 million toward a community events center,

$3.5 million to renovate the Buchanan library branch,

$2.6 million toward the county sheriff’s office purchase of body cameras and less-lethal weapons, and

$2 million for the county public school system to use as it chooses.

Money will also go toward new tennis courts, pickleball courts and soccer field lighting at the Botetourt Sports Complex; an E-911 dispatch center; and a new home for the Botetourt County Historical Museum.

That's according to an article in Cardinal News but given that I watched the presentation via online streaming, the numbers seem correct to me, except that the land sale was actually $14 million and change. Google gave another $4 million for community projects, so the $18 million figure includes more than just the purchase price. Still, the extra $4 million was generous of them.

Additional information about the purchase can be found on the county's website here: FAQS.

There was a lot of backslapping about the foresight of a previous Board who went against public outcry and purchased the 900+ acres that made up the Greenfield complex. About 750 acres of that went toward industry, while the remainder went to a new elementary school and recreational facilities, including the Botetourt Sports Complex.

I was one of those people who, at least behind the scenes, was not in favor of this project. Greenfield is not that far from where I live. The property Google purchased is behind me. Not so close that I could hit it with a rock, but close enough that I could walk to it, if I were of a mind to trespass on others' lands and wander through the woods to get there.

At the time, I was freelancing and writing for The Herald, and I attended the meetings as a news reporter. I may have written a column or two opposing the purchase; I honestly don't remember as that was over 30 years ago. I do recall not liking the project.

However, the option was a big subdivision full of McMansions as the property was going to be sold regardless of the purchaser, as I recall. McMansions aren't much of a tax base, while industry at least has the potential to be. It becomes not so helpful when the state and/or the county give away corporate welfare of public tax dollars to lure industries to our community.

I spent a lot of time talking to the county administrator at the time, as well as members of the Board of Supervisors, about what I, as a taxpayer and life-long resident of the county, would like to see. The property held a great deal of historic significance, and after much discussion the county agreed to try to maintain an historic area on the property. Then came the gift of property to the school system so they could build Greenfield Elementary and the ballfield construction.

There is also the Cherry Blossom Trail, which many people use for walking and jogging. I've been on it a few times, and it's a lovely route and well-maintained.

Once the county purchased the property, I pivoted and went all in. There was nothing else to do, really, except hope to convince the county leaders that it was in the best interest of all to see that we had development that was not transient and ugly. I urged for green preservation spaces around the industries, survival of a wetland pond there, and upkeep of the historic structures that remained on the property.

I remember that Bob Bagnoli, who is no longer with us, urged the county to build a training center. They listened, and for a long time Virginia Western had a satellite location there. It is now the county administration offices, with Virginia Western's remaining courses (welding, I think), shunted off to the side.

I did not get everything I wanted when I spoke with the supervisors and county administration. Neither did anyone else. The county was lax in upkeep of the historic structures, particularly the Bowyer House and the 1800s structures where enslaved persons worked and lived on this piece of property. I brought attention to the lack of upkeep via the newspaper on several occasions, and each time the county would step up for a while and then forget again that there are some of us who live here who love our history.

The worst thing the county did was move the historic structures of the enslaved people, relocating them to another place in the park. I wasn't writing then for the newspaper at that time, and I spoke out in letters to the editor about this. Many people tried to stop the relocation of these structures, but we did not succeed, and the structures have not been renovated. I have my doubts that they ever will be, at least, not in my lifetime, and I don't know if there will be anything left of them by the time these old buildings go through historic heat waves, freezing cold, major downpours from thunderstorms, and other weather events.

Greenfield was the name of the plantation/farm owned by Colonel William Preston. Preston purchased Greenfield in 1759 and lived there until 1774 when he moved to Smithfield in present day Montgomery County. In 1775, he was one of the signers of The Fincastle Resolutions, one of the first documents to support the creation of the Continental Congress prior to 1776.

Six of Preston’s 12 children were born at Greenfield, and his legacy has left a large footprint on the nation. Preston descendants founded six universities and influenced two others - Columbia College, now the University of South Carolina, and the University of Chicago.

Additionally, Preston’s descendants served in the Virginia House of Delegates and in the U.S. Congress. His son, James Patton Preston, served as governor of Virginia from 1816-1819.

Because of this legacy, Preston has been memorialized by the Fincastle Resolutions Chapter of the Sons of the American Revolution (SAR) with a garden area at Greenfield County Administration Building.

His legacy as well as historic interpretations of plantation life, including Preston's ownership of slaves, would be explored in depth at the designated historic area at some future date.

We learned that the county is planning to move the Botetourt County History Museum to Greenfield, ostensibly where the enslaved historic structures have been relocated. That's a $6.5 million project that is being funded mostly by the state, with Google throwing in the $500K.

These are big plans for the county, and I don't expect to see movement on them in the immediate future. We will see how things look five years down the road.

 

More on the Courthouse Demolition

 

The brick buildings to the left will stay.

What's left of the structure as of Sunday.

The Botetourt County Courthouse demolition continues. The county plans to replace this building with a $30 million structure that will have two circuit court courtrooms and plenty of space for whatever else is needed, along with accessibility and safety features.

Anyway, that was the plan last time I saw it. Given the current administration's weird fixation on things that makes life a little easier for some folks, I can only assume that the locality will move forward with what was approved, even if accessibility features might be "woke" because apparently handicapped people don't need to use the courtroom or something.

This is what the new structure is supposed to look like:

This is what the old structure looked like (without the steeple):

I wrote about this a few weeks ago here, when the front was still in place. It is gone now. Soon this will be just a memory.

Also, if you're interested in seeing the construction as it happens, it can be viewed at fincastlecourthousecam.com. There's a live cam showing the process.

Tearing Down the Court House

About 50 years ago, the Botetourt County Courthouse in nearby Fincastle burned down. I only have a vague memory of it happening, but my father-in-law was one of the firefighters who went to fight the blaze, so I have heard stories about it from my husband.

The courthouse was rebuilt mostly with funds from the community and some tax dollars. It was built to look very much like its predecessor.

Unfortunately, like much construction in the 1970s, the courthouse rebuild was not the best. Over time, its exterior began to crumble and inside there was black mold. The county staff also outgrew the facility, which was relatively small to hold the Circuit Court, the Commissioner of Revenue, the Treasurer, and the County Administration.

Perhaps better upkeep by the county would have kept the structure in better shape, but that would have been done with tax dollars. The same people who are gnashing their teeth and crying because this old building is being torn down to be replaced with a newer model are the same people who complain about having to pay taxes. Their inability to understand that it takes tax dollars to do public things always amazes me.

At any rate, the process is underway and in a few years we will have a big new courthouse. But first comes the tearing down part.

This was the courthouse in 2018.

This is the courthouse without the steeple, and with fencing around it.
It is empty now. Circuit Court is being held at new space created
in the jailhouse, and the records and staff are in an older building to the
left of this photo.

This is to the left of the courthouse. The white building once housed emergency services
and then served as a community building. It will also be torn down and this area
will become a multi-level parking area. The brick structures will remain.

They are blasting this week. That's what all the stuff on the side of the hill is.

This is the backside of the courthouse. As you can see, it is being demolished.

I took this shot to show the top where the clock is from the rear.

I think the destruction of the front of the building will be the most painful for residents who saw this structure as the signature building for Botetourt County. I'm not sure when that will occur, but I daresay it won't be long in coming.

I Am Honored

Yesterday, the Botetourt County Historical Society, Inc. held its 16th Founders Day Dinner at Virginia Mountain Vineyards in Fincastle.

A few weeks ago, I received a call from one of the members telling me I should be there, and they were giving me two tickets to the event. I was receiving a recognition, I was told.

Actually, I received The Garland Stevens Award, named after one of the museum's founders. Mr. Stevens, who is no longer with us, was also my husband's cousin, and I knew him. I think I interviewed him at some point, but to be honest I have interviewed so many residents of Botetourt County that without going back through the newspapers I can't be certain of that.

I was greatly honored to receive this for my writing and for my other work to help preserve the historic nature of Botetourt County. Over the many years I wrote for the newspaper, I sounded the alarm on several structures that were up for demolition, and the Historical Society or others sometimes were able to step in and save these buildings. Not always, but not every battle is meant to be won.

Additionally, I served with Historic Fincastle, Inc., on its board for a number years and served as its president for two years. I also wrote the magazine that celebrated the county's 250th anniversary in 2020, and to be honest, because of Covid, that magazine (which is no longer in print) is about all the evidence that there was any notice of the anniversary at all. (My old editor, Ed McCoy, wrote a book called Chronicles of Botetourt that came out that year, and it was a 250th anniversary project, but it was not sponsored by the county.)

The event lasted 3 hours and much to my surprise, my father and stepmother came to see me receive my recognition. I was able to introduce my father to several people I know, including our representative to the Virginia General Assembly in the House of Delegates and the chairman of the county supervisors. I'm not sure my dad knew that I am on a first-name basis with these folks. I don't go around talking about it, after all. But I liked being able to introduce him to these dignitaries.

My close friend Teresa and her husband Robin also came (and they are important people, too, in our community), and I was so glad to be able to spend time with them. I saw many other folks that I haven't seen in at least 4 or 5 years.

The keynote speaker was Dr. Sarah McCartney, Assistant Teaching Professor, NIAHD, from The College of William and Mary. She spoke for about 40 minutes on the Battle of Point Pleasant, which is considered by some historians to be the actual beginning of the American Revolutionary War.

While the battle took place in what is now West Virginia, at the time it occurred in 1774, the land was part of Botetourt County.

We had a very nice time, although I was worn out when we got home. That was a long time for me to be out of my little nest here. 

The Fincastle Festival