Charleston is a sunny city, full of pretty old buildings and overrun with gaggles of Citadel cadets, gentleman lawyers, and ladies out for a night out on the town.  The main park, Marion Square, is a wide-open field graced with trim palmettos and magnolia trees heavy with bud.  Off to one side there’s a large, modern sculpture, a memorial to Holocaust victims who lost their lives in Europe during World War II.

Over on Chalmers Street there’s another, especially pertinent Charleston memorial, the Old Slave Mart Museum.  Inside this unremarkable, two-story stone building slaves were held after purchase from traders and owners and then auctioned to local buyers.  Displays describe how some slaves resisted, influenced prospective buyers, communicated with one another, and worked to keep their families together.  Like the city’s buildings, which have all settled crookedly due to the watery subsoil, the museum gets at something deeper and more troublesome than what’s on the surface.