There's this space in Richmond, and it used to be the city hanging grounds back in the early 1800s.

It also was given to enslaved people as a place to bury their dead.

Nobody was caring about the history of this place.

People were like, take your asphalt off my ancestors.

To take responsibility for one's ancestors after they've passed is something that should be looked at with great honor.

So now, the pavement has been taken off.

It's a victory of the people.

A self-determined effort.

There is no one who can tell anyone going down there that you don't have the right to take care of your own ancestors.

We do.

One moment, please.

[phone ringing] Good morning, this is Rodney.

Hi, Rodney.

My name is Free Egunfemi.

I was calling you about the Truthful History Heals monument project.

Is there anyone I could speak to about that this morning?

Sure, I can try and help you as best as I can.

OK, well who's curating that space?

I had the opportunity to go to school on a full scholarship for violin, and I was classically trained violinist from the age of two.

Ranked number one in the state of Virginia.

Playing my violin on the golf course as the golfers ride by.

And my mother, play, play.

And I'm just like, oh my God.

One day, I realized my life is going to be gone before I live.

I gotta stop this.

And then when I told my parents, they flipped out.

I said, well fine, I'm going to Virginia State.

And that's when I went, never realizing that my ancestors were within a half a mile of my dorm, who had been in the oldest free black community in the country.

So as changing lanes, when I left Virginia State, I was really deeply rooted within black culture.

So this is the original sketch of the portal.

I wanted to have this center image to represent the picture of the altar at my house.

This is the portal.

And the portal shows all of these people on the ancestor altar.

And we're putting them in locations where people can actually go there and learn about the people that are on here.

No, we decided not to put it down there because it's too low.

.

I used to see him around and be like, who is this dude?

I knew that he was a carpenter.

When I finally got a chance to meet him, I realized, you know, there was work for us to do.

Oh, she's a doer, and I'm a doer.

We do.

And I drew those portals out and showed it to him.

And he came and brought that thing down to the canal.

And I looked at it, and I was in shock, because it's exactly what I drew.

We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors.

You need to be able to know you're living in a city with people who pushed past and accomplished so much.

There's no monuments to them.

And their lives need to matter.

I'm a fourth generation spiritualist.

My mom didn't tell me that my whole family was African spiritualists, although she was raised this way from birth all the way to the time she met my dad.

She did not want me to take after that family dynamic.

But the wider conversation that you just offered to us to curate a gallery-- I thought I was striking out on my own.

And all along, I was doing what our family had been doing for countless generations.

This sign explains to people how they would use the space.

They come with an open heart and a willingness to do good.

My mom, when she passed two years ago, she was on her last moments on earth.

I remember I started singing this song.

And it's a song that you sing to open up the portal when a person is transitioning.

It goes-- [singing] When I got to the end, I said, Ma, you want me to sing it again?

She goes, yes.

You leave that to where to bury.

I'm not burying you in some crazy ass crypt.

I said, you know, I'm going to be down here all the time.

I would really rather just go ahead and inter some of my mom's ashes over there.

When I come down there, my mom is overlooking the whole scene.