Still standing today the old Cedar Tree quietly bears the burden of being the only remaining survivor and witness to the fire that left forever silent the sounds of the poor, but happy children. The tree keeps it‚s secrets, but prays that someone will put together the pieces and discover the truth even if no proof can be found today, and no earthly punishment will befall the criminal, the killer of the happy voices. For the tree knows that the tiny souls of the children are at rest with their Creator, and that the soul of the one who started the fire will find itself forever in the pit of hell. 

     Seventy years had passed since slavery had been abolished. The Ku Klux Klan was a reality in the rural counties of Virginia. Equally as real were the blood relationships between the white and black populations of these rural Virginia counties. These kinships produced envy and hatred between the races. 

     On a  spring day the hatred between the races likely cost the lives of several black children. They died in a house fire. The white woman living within sight of the burning home was not sad or sorrowful at all. She watched with an attitude of “Good enough for them. Now maybe they will all go away.” By the time the white woman‚s daughter arrived home from school the fire was all but over. The white woman‚s daughter chose that day to bring a friend home from school. The friend says, “I’ll never forget that day." The young white girls felt shock and sadness as they gazed at the sight of the smoldering remains. They were innocent of the evil in the home and heart of the white woman, who had happily watched the house ablaze. 

     Jump ahead 50+ years. The now elderly white woman who gleefully watched the house ablaze from her foyer window now sits in a chair. She has been a widow for many years. Her daughter has moved away. She is alone with her hate filled heart and bitterness. She has NO grandchildren. A realtor agent knocks on her door. The old white woman yells, “Come in.” The agent shows the old woman’s house to a young couple with children. The old woman sells the house to the young couple. The old woman leaves her home of about 60 years. She takes her hate filled and bitter heart with her. 

     Alas, the old white woman was not the only person whose heart was filled with hate. Another in the neighborhood carries so much hate and bitterness that she is determined to share her misery with the young white couple. This black woman stomps out her misery up and down up and down every morning in front of the home the young couple purchased. One morning the young white woman greets the black woman hoping to get to know her and learn of her trouble. The hate is so thick the young white woman can cut it with a knife. Soon the young white woman realizes she and her family are now caught in the midst of such racial hatred as the young family has never known. 

     Time passes. The young family makes its home a place of their own. The past is not theirs. From time to time the young white woman talks with each of the old bitter women. Nothing changes, and eventually both the old women die. The secrets of the Cedar are still hidden. But, there is knowledge of some terrible thing that happened in the past in the heart of the young white woman. She doesn't know what it is, nor does she understand it. 

     From time to time the young white woman walks about her property. Often she notices the odd lone Cedar. It is as if the past calls to her heart. The young woman knows there is some connection between the two old women, but what? What could possibly make them hate each other to such an extent? Finally, the young white woman figures that the old white woman’s father or grandfather must have been the father or master to the certain black woman who was once given 20 acres of land for herself and her children. Well, that may explain some of the bitterness between the two old women. 

     Life goes on and one day the young white woman decided to give the attic a through cleaning. She reaches the attic via a hidden space in her own house. She climbs a ladder and is surprised how spacious the attic is. The young mother goes about gathering what looks like trash. This attic houses a wardrobe type thing. There is nothing hanging on the rod. Then over in the corner the young mother picks up a pile of what looks like some more trash and discovers a horrible picture. It is an 8 by 10 original photo of a group of KKK members proudly standing in their full dress white sheet costumes in front of a local General Store. The young white woman is thinking “it’s the 1990‚s. Oh, my heaven. The old white woman’s husband was a KKK member. He hid his stuff up here in my attic. He dressed up here.” The young woman’s first thought was get rid of the picture. Throw it away. She didn’t want anything to do with such a thing. The man had been dead for years. How awful. She placed the picture in a trash bag and tied the bag shut. That night the bag containing the picture made it’s way into the land fill dump site never to be seen again. 

     On her walks about her property the young woman would still be drawn to the lone Cedar. How odd it looked by itself. None of the other vegetation is as old. Once in a while the young woman would ponder the lost lives of the children whose home once stood near the Cedar. She would remember the awful picture of the KKK members and remain thankful that the dead old man’s proud association with such a group now rests in the county dump. 

     Years later while mowing out in the field the young woman almost had an accident. She gave herself a good scare. She thought to herself-I must be more careful because if an accident were to happen no one would know. There would be no help for me until my husband came home. The property is pretty secluded back here. Suddenly more pieces of the old puzzle fell together. The truth seemed to come crashing in on her. The old man was a KKK member. He could have started the fire! Ever since that day the young white woman has known the unofficial truth-the secret of the Cedar Tree. 

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