Town adopts Confederate monument Louisville rejected
BRANDENBURG, Ky. — The leaders in this small town said they wanted history to be preserved, so they piled into a car last summer for what they considered an important mission: to save a Confederate monument from possible destruction.
The monument had stood in Louisville for 121 years. But Louisville wanted it removed and called a public meeting to help determine its relocation. One speaker said the structure should be “obliterated.” Another said he would gladly help drop it into the river. And then, one by one, up to the microphone came the people from Brandenburg.
“I think it would be well-received by the county and the residents,” the county judge executive said.
“Brandenburg has a rich Civil War history,” the local historian said.
“We’re proposing to put this monument right here,” the mayor said, holding up a photo of a riverfront park, and soon the largest Confederate monument in Kentucky was disassembled and rebuilt 45 miles away.
But in recent days, the country’s symbols of Confederate history have become even more complicated than before. In Charlottesville, white supremacists used a statue of Robert E. Lee as a gathering point for a deadly rally. In Durham, N.C., protesters slung a rope around the statue of a Confederate soldier and pulled it down in a headfirst dive. Cities across the country are hastily removing monuments that stood for decades.
In Brandenburg, a monument that was planted into the ground just nine months ago has already taken on a new meaning: symbolizing not just a 152-year-old war but, in the eyes of many here, a stand in a present-day culture war.
“Anybody else who wants to throw out their statues, we’ll take those, too,” said Diane Reichle, 66, who lives a quarter-mile from the monument. “I hope we get all of them.”
Since the white supremacist gathering in Charlottesville, Brandenburg’s decision to relocate the Confederate monument has felt more charged, some residents say.
“People who want these statues removed, they’re a bunch of whiny babies,” said Johnnie Hayes, 48, who was at the riverfront park last week. “If you’re offended, don’t go look at it.”