This is why history is important. And it's a testimony as to how Black history gets erased. This street is named after my great-grandfather. It was renamed after him, on the corner where his mansion stood and was firebombed when he was at least 88. (1/x) 
("At least" because he never really stopped lying about his age after he ran away from his plantation at age 5). I've heard about this street my entire life.
When I wrote my first book, I wanted to include this piece of history, complete with concrete dates to shut down any naysayers.
But when I called the North Carolina Board of Records, they not only had no idea when this section of Macon St was renamed Medley St, they also had no idea why.
But when I took this pic and sent it to my mom, she said "You're standing in the exact same spot your great-grandfather stood when they renamed the street after him in the paper." But again, North Carolina has no idea why. Because we're black.
And if not for my grandmother telling and showing my mother who told me, it would be yet another lost part of Black American history.
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