To the former residents of Africville and their descendants. Visiting the community was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I had this conversation with Beatrice while touring the existing museum.

In explaining the layout of the houses after inquiring about the location of the originally demolished church, now paved over by the existing straightened main road , she added. “Come have a look outside, you’ll see. The houses too were just over here!”, as she quickly pulled the door and pointed with certainty.
“Where, near the old church?”, I asked.
“No! Across the road”, she said, pointing towards Big Town and Around The Turn.
“Ok, where the bushes are past the train line.”
“Yes, it’s overgrown now, that’s where our house is”, she exclaimed.
“You can see them, can’t you?” as I strained my eyes pretending to see what was all gone. But not to her, it was fresh in her mind as she confirmed saying, “... as though I’m still a little girl”.
 
 I whispered to myself, under my breath “This Africville is still there in her mind, I must recreate it.” But before leaving her company as we toured the rest of the museum, I realized the task at hand was for something in the form of a memorial must come from “nothing”. The only thing I could think of was to begin with using light. This way Africville will always be “someplace” rather than “…no place”. Her thoughts must radically radiate for all to see.