Perhaps because I was born up north, figuratively at least, I never shared the connection to the Confederacy that so many of those with whom I grew up in this county did.

As a child, I always wore blue when we would grab our toy rifles and play Civil War in the Sherwood Forest neighborhood of Chapel Hill where I spent my first six years. I have always preferred winners, but I like to think that intuitively I knew who was on the right side of that war that was fought mainly over slavery and took the lives of 600,000 Americans.

In the three score years since, I have always been reluctant to judge those who would display the Confederate flag, on their clothing, car bumper, or in the yard. Many of them were – and remain – my friends, and a condition of that friendship is that they do not harbor hate in their heart based on the skinniest of reasons, skin color.

I am thoughtful enough to have always wondered what exactly I would have done if I had been born in the South in the 1840s after that first shot was fired at Fort Sumter. I am unconvinced that I would have been on the right side of history, which would have required turning my back on family and friends and running.

My first Civil War battle came as editor of this newspaper, around the turn of the century, when there was a local push to remove from the courthouse the Confederate soldier that has stood sentinel since May 10, 1907. We opposed the move, not vehemently as I recall, arguing that those who wanted it moved should raise the money for that to happen, and the expense should not burden the taxpayers. It was a bluff really, one offered knowing that there would be no fund-raising campaign.

So, I was interested recently when I heard the news that the Robeson County Board of Commissioners, in a 6 to 2 vote, has decided to move the Confederate statue to a memorial park nearby. That prompted me to use my friend Google, and to look back to what I had written the last time the debate about the statue occurred in this county.

The following is cut and paste from an Our View that was published on Aug. 19, 2017, in response to Gov. Roy Cooper’s call that such Confederate monuments and statues be removed from public property.

“We are sure the Confederate soldier’s 110-year stay at the courthouse is coming to an end, whether that be soon or not. The wheels have been set in motion thanks to the antics of a bunch of Nazis eight days ago, but it has always been just a matter of time.

“We wish that a private coalition would form to raise money that could pay for the Confederate soldier to be moved, off public property, preferably to the sanctity of a museum, the rightful spot for such historical symbols. There is one right down Elm Street.

“The Confederate soldier deserves a peaceful place to rest — and should not have to endure yet another divisive war, even if this one is words.”

That Our View was obviously the result of an evolved position, one that was largely informed by the truth that in a county that is 70 percent people of color, a Confederate monument on the steps of a

building where justice should be dispensed equally was at the minimum a bad look, but in reality something much worse.

It was also published knowing that the removal of the Confederate monument would not result in more harmony, but would likely provoke additional rancor, that it would be divisive and not unifying – at least in the short term. But the removal of the Confederate monument takes off the table what I believe is a distraction for a county such as ours with so many challenges of consequence.

Monumental challenges.