Old warehouse turned Civil War hospital's collapse reported earlier

Contrary to earlier accounts, last week’s collapse of a Civil War-era tobacco warehouse was reported to authorities by neighbors.

Jim Hebron, who lives behind the vacant four-story building, said he called City Hall twice the day after the structure’s rear wall tumbled down.

The wall partially collapsed on Monday, Jan. 30, exposing a huge swath of the aging building. City officials initially said no one reported it and they didn’t find out about it until Wednesday when a passing city employee noticed the gaping hole.

But this week, officials confirmed they received a message about the collapse the day before, although no one listened to it until Wednesday.

“It was routed to the voicemail of an inspector who’s out in the field a lot,” said Kent White, director of the Community Development Department. “We didn’t actually find out about it until Wednesday.”

Hebron, who was vexed by the city’s initial account of events, said he wondered why the city did not respond to his calls.

“I don’t want to turn over rocks here necessarily, but I think it’s important to respond in a timely manner,” he said, adding he made his second call around 3 p.m. because he was concerned for the safety of children departing from nearby Paul Laurence Dunbar Middle School for Innovation.

“I realize the city’s under budget constraints and things, but you never know what could have happened in that time,” Hebron, 65, said.

No one was injured by the collapse. When city inspectors arrived on scene Wednesday, they roped it off with yellow caution tape and closed off the street as a precaution.

The building is marked for demolition. After receiving an unfavorable engineering report on the remaining structure’s condition, property owner Harold Gibson said they are moving to knock it down immediately.

Demolition is slated to begin as soon as the necessary permits are secured, he said.

In response to Hebron’s concerns, White said his department strives to respond to all citizen complaints within 24 hours, but it is increasingly difficult to meet that goal.

“Obviously, this would have been a priority response,” White said, adding he is looking into how the call was handled and why Hebron was transferred into someone’s voicemail.

“Part of the problem is, with what we do, we’re out in the field a lot,” White said, noting it limits their availability to quickly respond to calls. “… We’re not really set up for an emergency response.”

Situations presenting an immediate safety concern are best reported to 911, which can provide a quicker response, he added.

The damaged building, located at 612 Dunbar Drive, was one of two surviving Civil War-era tobacco warehouses in Lynchburg that served as Confederate hospitals during the war. Dozens of city buildings were pressed into service as hospitals, making Lynchburg the second biggest medical center in the state during the Civil War — behind only Richmond.

The Dunbar Drive building, referred to as the Miller Building after tobacconist William Miller, was part of the Virginia Civil War Trails and had a Sons of Confederate Veterans historical marker — although that apparently was stolen sometime after the collapse as a wave of onlookers descended on the property.

In addition to being a hospital, the building had the distinction of serving as a wartime morgue. Once it is gone, the neighboring Knight Building, now occupied by Morris Construction, will be the city’s last surviving tobacco-warehouse-turned-hospital.

The Morris family says it is committed to preserving its building and would like to get it on the state and national historic registers.

Gibson, whose family owned the Miller Building since 1999, said they explored the possibility of salvaging part of the building, but an engineer who inspected the structure last week recommended a quick tear down.

“They’re recommending that it be an immediate demolition,” he said, adding they “hate” to see it come down.

“I understand there’s a lot of history behind that building and it’s important to quite a few people in Lynchburg,” said Gibson, who lives in South Carolina. “But I guess every building comes to a point where it has to go. It’s kind of like human beings. There comes a time when all of us must go.”

The circa-1845 warehouse was vacant for some time and was degraded by years of weather damage.

Gibson said the family has not decided what to do with the land once the building is down.

“We haven’t got to that point yet,” he said. “We would hope it would have some marketable value after the building is demolished. But that’s in the future.”