Writing the History of Battlefield Preservation

By Bob Zeller · Originally published November 2017 · p. 28

One startling telephone interview stands above the countless other memorable moments that came my way as I researched and wrote Fighting The Second Civil War: A History of Battlefield Preservation and the Emergence of the Civil War Trust, published by Knox Press in June. I was on the phone with John T. “Til” Hazel Jr., the prominent Northern Virginia developer who tangled with preservationists while planning to build the William Center Mall on the Manassas battlefield in the late 1980s. The preservationists, led by the legendary Annie Snyder, won the fight when Congress passed legislation that took Hazel’s land. But as detailed in the book, it cost the government a staggering $135 million. Hazel, 86, is blunt and outspoken, so as I introduced myself, I went to some trouble to explain that, yes, I was writing the book for the Civil War Trust, but that I would be fair, giving all sides a fair examination. He interrupted my spiel. “I have become a member of that Civil War Trust. I contributed pretty much to them in the last couple of years and I am impressed with the preparation,” he said. “When they send an appeal, they do a very good job of identifying, and having an excellent map of why the piece (of battlefield land) they want to buy is so important. And I think that’s a good thing the way they do it.” We went on to have a good, long conversation, and Hazel’s perspective on William Center as he reflected on it after almost 30 years allowed me to write a complete and balanced chapter covering both sides of the controversy in a personal and readable way. Some of the preservationists who fought the William Center battle were wholly unimpressed with Hazel’s support of Civil War battlefield preservation. But what caught me was that Hazel’s business sense honed in on one of the most remarkable traits of today’s Civil War Trust—its relentless, never-ending “assembly line” of battlefield acquisitions. Throughout this decade, the Trust has averaged more than three dozen battlefield land purchases a year, or more than three a month, or a new closing about every 10 days. As Trust President Jim Lighthizer explained in the book, “Our business, like a propeller, has to run at a continuous rate,” Lighthizer said. “You can’t have a burst of speed and then stop. If you do, that plane will fall out of the sky. The propeller spins because we find deals and mail out solicitations and the cash comes in, which allows us to do the next deal, but the propeller keeps spinning.” The result has been the preservation of a staggering 46,355 acres of hallowed ground in 23 states at more than 132 battlefields, several of which I’d never even heard of, but nonetheless where young men fighting for the North and South gave their lives and shed their blood. The propeller also keeps spinning because the Trust’s real estate department is matched in professionalism and drive by its other departments: development and fund-raising, government affairs and communications, and history and education. Most of the time, the work is wholly non-controversial as the Trust’s departments keep the propeller spinning. All battlefield purchases are made with willing buyers. When the organization has had to fight to save battlefield land, it waged a relentless campaign and has usually won, as described, battle by battle, in Fighting the Second Civil War. The book was the idea of Garry Adelman, the Trust’s Director of History and Education. Soon after taking that job, he contracted me in 2011 to do oral history interviews of 50 of the preservation movement’s key players. In 2012, I agreed to write the history of the Trust and the modern battlefield preservation movement. From the start, it was intended to be an organizational history, but one that emphasized story telling throughout in the same captivating fashion that legendary historian Ed Bearss and the best tour guides employ while giving battlefield tours. The history of the modern battlefield preservation movement, from the founding meeting of the Association of the Preservation of Civil War Sites at Arbuckle’s restaurant in Fredericksburg, Va., on July 18, 1987, has spanned only 30 years. That’s less than half a lifetime for a hale and hearty human, and many Civil War enthusiasts have followed the development of the movement, and supported it, from the beginning. The story often gets messy and complicated because that’s the way life is. Few of the preservation history’s main players, including Lighthizer and Bearss, are spared criticism. Nonetheless, nearly everyone involved agreed to willingly participate and share their own remarkable stories and experiences. In August 2016, I went to Arlington, Va., to interview Bearss.

We sat on the front porch of the home of the former National Park Service chief historian because Bearss, then 93, did not have air conditioning and it was a warm summer day. The more I picked away with specific questions about the controversies that included him, the more Bearss relished it. Then he started telling his own stories with the same enthusiasm he displays while giving a battlefield tour. We talked for more than two hours. “I enjoy talking about those times,” he said with enthusiasm as we wrapped up the interview. It seemed as if he was just getting started. I’m sure he would have been happy to continue to tell more stories, but a lawn mowing crew showed up and noisily ended our session. Bob Zeller, co-founder and president of The Center for Civil War Photography, is one of the country’s leading authorities on the imagery of the Civil War. He is the author of several ground-breaking books in the field, including The Blue and Gray in Black and White: A History of Civil War Photography (Praeger, 2005), the first narrative history about the war’s photographers, what they did and why they did it.