What happened when a White man carrying a large wooden cross met a Black man at the nation’s largest Confederate monument
A Cross, A Mountain, And A New Understanding: Jean Shifrin’s Discovery at Stone Mountain
The Unexpected March Up The Slope
healfromzero.com – On the Fourth of July, Jean Shifrin found herself navigating a steep trail when an unusual procession caught her attention. Squinting against the bright morning light, the photographer watched as three men made their way upward. Two were Black, and one was White. Together, they carried an eight-foot wooden cross up the slippery incline. The lead figure, a broad-shouldered Black man, balanced the cross’s head on his left shoulder while calling out in a commanding voice, “Yessir! Yessir!” Behind him, a White man with heavily tattooed arms—already flushed red from sun exposure—supported the center beam. Bringing up the rear was another solid Black man. This trio moved forward with a supportive crowd following close behind, including a young boy clutching a Bible and a middle-aged Chinese woman enthusiastically chanting “Jiayou!”—Mandarin for “Keep going!”
Shifrin, a sixty-eight-year-old photographer with a lean frame, regularly encounters oddities on this mountain. Stone Mountain rises 825 feet above the landscape near Atlanta, and it carries considerable historical weight. Often called the “Mount Rushmore of the Confederacy,” this massive granite formation features an enormous carving depicting Confederate leaders Robert E. Lee, Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, and Jefferson Davis riding horseback. This relief stands taller than the presidential faces carved into Mount Rushmore and represents the nation’s largest Confederate monument.
From Symbol of Hatred to Place of Healing
Historically, Stone Mountain held a complicated legacy. It served as the birthplace of the modern Ku Klux Klan and remained a gathering point for various White supremacist organizations. For many years, the only White men who carried crosses up this mountain were those who later burned them. The site has also drawn protests from Black Lives Matter activists and others demanding the removal of more than six hundred Confederate monuments scattered throughout America.
Shifrin once viewed the mountain through the same lens of prejudice. As a Jewish woman who had personally experienced antisemitism, she felt deep revulsion toward any form of discrimination. “I was revolted,” she recalled. “The more I learned about the history of it and how it was started — it just got uglier and uglier.” Yet during a difficult period when a debilitating genetic condition threatened her ability to walk, the mountain became something different—a source of personal healing.
Now, she wondered if the mountain could reveal yet another dimension. Her decision to photograph the people gathering at the summit led to a revelation: there exists more than one method to challenge a Confederate monument’s meaning.
Beyond Religion: Heritage and History
The men carrying the cross on that July day demonstrated something Shifrin had not anticipated. Their motivation extended beyond simple religious devotion. For decades, supporters of Confederate symbols have argued they protect heritage rather than perpetuate hate. However, Southern leaders were explicit about their reasons for secession and the resulting Civil War.
Our new government is founded upon exactly the opposite idea, Stephenson said in a speech three weeks before the start of the Civil War. Its foundations are laid; its corner stone rests upon the great truth that the Negro is not equal to the White man; that slavery, subordination to the superior race is his natural and normal condition.
Alexander Stephens, vice president of the Confederate States of America, delivered these words in what became known as the “Cornerstone Speech.” In it, he directly challenged Thomas Jefferson’s assertion in the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal.” The memorial at Stone Mountain emerged from similar convictions. A Confederate widow championed its creation in the early twentieth century, and she also proposed including KKK members in the carving. More than half a century elapsed before the carving reached completion in 1972.
A Mountain Transformed
Today, Stone Mountain Park operates as a theme park situated sixteen miles outside Atlanta. It opened on April 14, 1965—exactly one hundred years following Abraham Lincoln’s assassination. Over recent decades, the mountain has evolved into what Shifrin describes as a mini-United Nations. People of diverse races, religions, and cultural backgrounds now gather here daily. They come to exercise, meditate, and celebrate together, climbing the slopes that once seemed to represent only division.
Shifrin has dedicated years to documenting the visitors who come to Stone Mountain. Yet nothing prepared her for the scene she witnessed on July 4. The sight of a White man and Black men working together to carry a wooden cross upward suggested that transformation was possible—not just for individuals, but for the meaning of places themselves.
As changes continue to reshape how the nation views its largest Confederate monument, Shifrin’s photographs capture a moment of possibility. The mountain that once symbolized hatred now offers evidence that understanding can grow from unexpected encounters. Whether these changes prove sufficient remains to be seen, but for Shifrin, the journey up that steep trail revealed that healing and new perspectives can emerge from even the most complicated of histories.