RALEIGH, N.C. _ At the time of its unveiling in 1895, the Confederate Monument at the state Capitol seemed destined to stand forever, same as the laws and customs throughout the South that often determined a man's worth by the color of his skin. The people who erected that monument 125 years ago, who celebrated it like a victory, could never envision a day when it might come down.
But that day arrived in the final hours of Tuesday night, in front of a small crowd that came to bear witness.
"The people that are out here, the people who have been out here, even though we haven't seen much movement since Sunday _ it's kind of like you want to witness an old part of history," said Kenny Lee, a Black man who grew up in North Carolina, while the monument came down. "And at the same time you're witnessing a new history."
The monument was removed four days after protesters ripped away two statues that stood near its base. Protesters on Friday night dragged those statues, depicting Confederate soldiers, through the streets of downtown Raleigh. They hung one from a stoplight pole and left the other outside the courthouse.
The unrest followed weeks of protests locally and nationally in the aftermath of the death of George Floyd, a Black man who was killed after a police officer in Minneapolis knelt on his neck for nearly nine minutes, and prompted North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper to remove three Confederate monuments from the grounds of the Capitol. Citing the need to protect public safety, Cooper's order on Saturday called for removing the remainder of the monument and two smaller memorials nearby _ the monument to the Women of the Confederacy and the Henry Wyatt Monument.
For three days, workers attempted to disassemble the 75-foot tall monument, which was described as "one of the handsomest granite monuments in America" when it rose. On Sunday morning, while two women provided a melodic soundtrack of spirituals and hopeful Gospel music, those workers lifted away the statue of the Confederate soldier that stood atop the monument, facing west down Hillsborough Street.
The granite pillar beneath that infantryman, though, proved resistant to change, like the time in which it was built.
Workers using one crane failed to separate the pillar on Sunday. Another group, with a larger crane, failed as Monday night turned into Tuesday morning. It was as if that pillar, which for so long had held that Confederate soldier high in the air, supporting him while he looked out onto the city, had been built to stand forever.
Tuesday night finally brought a moment more powerful than the granite. After hours of preparation, workers secured towing straps to the pillar, beneath metal rods they'd drilled into its sides. A few minutes before 11:30 p.m., the crane attempted to separate the pillar from the rest of the monument.
There was quiet and then a loud snapping sound, and for a moment, the pillar lurched to one side before righting itself. The crew members appeared to consider their next move. Then, suddenly, the pillar hung in the air.
At 11:30, the crane lifted it from what remained beneath. In an instant, the pedestal that for 125 years held high the statue of the Confederate soldier that kept watch over North Carolina's Capitol stood no more.
People cheered when it happened. A small crowd of perhaps a few dozen had gathered in the parking lot of the First Baptist Church, across Salisbury Street from the monument. Some had been waiting for hours, sitting in camping chairs and watching. One group of friends brought two pizzas and sat under the police tape that created a perimeter, which kept onlookers at a distance.
Lee, who spoke of a desire to see "new history," was among them. He did not want to reveal his age, but said he was older than 50. He wore a baseball hat, carried a camera and sat on the ground, staring ahead toward the monument while crews worked.
He'd long become familiar with the old arguments surrounding structures like this, the people who said they represented heritage and not hatred. When he looked at the monument, Lee saw a glorification of an Army that fought to keep his ancestors enslaved.
"Some would say that you're erasing history and getting rid of history and so forth," he said. "But we're just creating a new future, you know what I'm saying? And so this is just a small step. It's just a small step right here.
"We've got to get rid of some of these images of supremacy _ white supremacy."
