By its own definition a “museum of conscience,” the 158,000-square-foot copper-roofed structure hopes to engage visitors in a visceral way. “This is not a slavery museum,” says executive director Spencer Crew, who moved to Cincinnati from Washington, D.C., where he was director of the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of American History. “Rather, it is a place to engage people on the subject of slavery and race without finger-pointing. Yes, the center shows that slavery was terrible. But it also shows that there were people who stood up against it.”
Visitors will find, in addition to the slave jail, artifacts including abolitionists’ diaries, wanted posters, ads for runaways, documents granting individual slaves their freedom and newspapers such as William Lloyd Garrison’s militant Liberator, the first in the United States to call for immediate abolition. And they will encounter one of the most powerful symbols of slavery: shackles. “Shackles exert an almost mystical fascination,” says Rita C. Organ, the center’s director of exhibits and collections. “There were even small-sized shackles for children. By looking at them, you get a feeling of what our ancestors must have felt—suddenly you begin to imagine what it was like being huddled in a coffle of chained slaves on the march.”
Additional galleries relate stories of the central figures in the Underground Railroad. Some, like Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman, are renowned. Many others, such as John P. Parker, a former slave who became a key activist in the Ohio underground, and his collaborator, abolitionist John Rankin, are little known.
Other galleries document the experiences of present-day Americans, people like Laquetta Shepard, a 24-year-old black Kentucky woman who in 2002 walked into the middle of a Ku Klux Klan rally and shamed the crowd into dispersing, and Syed Ali, a Middle Eastern gas station owner in New York City who prevented members of a radical Islamic group from setting fire to a neighborhood synagogue in 2003. Says Crew, “Ideally, we would like to create modern-day equivalents of the Underground Railroad conductors, who have the internal fortitude to buck society’s norms and to stand up for the things they really believe in.”
The center’s concept grew out of a tumultuous period in the mid-1990s when Cincinnati was reeling from confrontations between the police and the African-American community and when Marge Schott, then the owner of the Cincinnati Reds, made comments widely regarded as racist. At a 1994 meeting of the Cincinnati chapter of the National Conference of Christians and Jews, its then-director, Robert “Chip” Harrod, proposed the idea of a museum devoted to the Underground Railroad. Since then, the center has raised some $60 million from private donations and another $50 million from public sources, including the Department of Education.
The term underground railroad is said to derive from the story of a frustrated slave hunter who, having failed to apprehend a runaway, exclaimed, “He must have gone off on an underground road!” In an age when smoke-belching locomotives and shining steel rails were novelties, activists from New York to Illinois, many of whom had never seen an actual railroad, readily adopted its terminology, describing guides as “conductors,” safe houses as “stations,” horsedrawn wagons as “cars,” and fugitives as “passengers.”
Says Ira Berlin, author of Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America: “The Underground Railroad played a critical role, by making the nature of slavery clear to Northerners who had been indifferent to it, by showing that slaves who were running away were neither happy nor well-treated, as apologists for slavery claimed. And morally, it demonstrated the enormous resiliency of the human spirit in the collaboration of blacks and whites to help people gain their freedom.”
Thanks to the clandestine network, as many as 150,000 slaves may have found their way to safe havens in the North and Canada. “We don’t know the total number and we will probably never know,” says James O. Horton, a professor of American studies and history at George Washington University in Washington, D.C. “Part of the reason is that the underground was so successful: it kept its secrets well.”
As the nation’s second great civil disobedience movement— the first being the actions, including the Boston Tea Party, leading to the American Revolution—the Underground Railroad engaged thousands of citizens in the subversion of federal law. The movement provoked fear and anger in the South and prompted the enactment of draconian legislation, including the 1850 Fugitive Slave Law, which required Northerners to cooperate in the capture of escaped slaves. And at a time when proslavery advocates insisted that blacks were better off in bondage because they lacked the intelligence or ability to take care of themselves, it also gave many African-Americans experience in political organizing and resistance.
“The Underground Railroad symbolized the intensifying struggle over slavery,” says Berlin. “It was the result of the ratcheting up of the earlier antislavery movement, which in the years after the American Revolution, had begun to call for compensated emancipation and gradualist solutions to slavery.” In the North, it brought African-Americans, often for the first time, into white communities where they could be seen as real people, with real families and real feelings. Ultimately, Berlin says, “the Underground Railroad forced whites to confront the reality of race in American society and to begin to wrestle with the reality in which black people lived all the time. It was a transforming experience.”