A makeshift memorial of flowers and a photo of victim, Heather Heyer, sits in Charlottesville, Virginia. Photo / AP
A makeshift memorial of flowers and a photo of victim, Heather Heyer, sits in Charlottesville, Virginia. Photo / AP
At the scene where a suspected far-right extremist mowed down anti-fascist protesters in Charlottesville, Anna Quillom spent the day laying dozens of carnations along the street.
"I grew up here but this doesn't feel like my home anymore. The lid's come off it," said Quillom, 36, who runs wine tours in the historic college town.
Welling up with tears, she added: "It was the best place in the world, inclusive, everyone cares about each other. Why are these Nazis able to come into our city?"
Nearby, at a makeshift memorial, a sign read: "No Place For Hate!"
A red shoe, lost by one of the victims, had been stuffed with roses.
Charlottesville, a town of 47,000 with a university very much at its heart, was shattered by the weekend's events when hundreds of extremists descended and violence erupted.
In the street, dotted with book and antique shops, people appeared stunned.
Had President Donald Trump helped foster an atmosphere that has led to their home becoming the new ground zero in America's race war?
Why were groups that once operated in the shadows, now connected across America by social media, becoming increasingly emboldened to launch public displays of hate?
In Charlottesville, where the council is seeking to remove a statue of Confederate General Robert E. Lee, they have found a cause célèbre.
Fascists, nationalists, anti-Semites and Hitler enthusiasts marched openly in the streets shouting the Nazi slogan "Blood and Soil" and displaying the kind of insignia normally locked secretly in extremists' basements.
After they left, an elderly woman cried as she tried to clean detritus from the red-brick pavement.
"We need to look at the 25th Amendment again," she whispered, referring to the US Constitution's provision for removing a president "unable to discharge the duties of his office".
She said: "This is the summer of madness in the White House."
Unite the Right rally organiser Jason Kessler is escorted by police after his press conference was disrupted by protesters today outside City Hall in Charlottesville. Photo / AP
It was on a blistering hot afternoon that the driver of a silver Dodge sports car sped down Charlottesville's narrow 4th Street, past a fine cigar shop, a spa, and a record store before crashing into two stationary cars.
Anti-fascist protesters were sent flying into the air. One woman died and 19 other people were injured.
Moments afterwards people were seen desperately running away, screaming and crying. One shouted: "It's a terrorist attack!"
Witnesses estimated the driver was doing 65km/h and "hit at least 20 people". Several said they believed he acted intentionally.
They also described seeing a woman pinned between two vehicles. The driver reversed away at speed but was arrested nearby.
The arrested man was James Alex Fields from Ohio. He had been pictured earlier marching with a shield handed out by the far-right group Vanguard America. The group later issued a statement saying he was not one of their members.
It emerged Fields, who has been charged with murder, had dropped off his cat with his mother, Samantha Bloom, before attending the rally.
Bloom said: "I thought it [the rally] had something to do with Trump. Trump's not a white supremacist".
Mike Signer, Charlottesville's Mayor, said Trump should "look at himself in the mirror".
He added: "He should think very deeply about who he consorted with in his campaign, and the forces they chose to work with in their quest for political advancement.
"I hope he turns the page and works to quell the forces of division and this outbreak of virtual terror, and actual terror, we saw here in our city."
In a small square opposite a red brick church stands the imposing statue of General Lee, seated atop his horse, Traveller.
It has dominated the square since 1924.
The area used to be called Lee Park, named in his honour, but in June the city council voted to change that to Emancipation Park.
Yesterday it was the scene of what is now known as the "Battle of Charlottesville", as hundreds of far-right activists, some of them armed with assault rifles, gathered for a "Unite the Right" rally.
The only reason for an American to hold a Nazi flag is if it has been captured in battle. pic.twitter.com/g44h8PSZyd
It was intended as a protest against another vote by the council in February to remove the statue, a decision that has gone to the courts.
Appearing openly at the rally, flanked by a security team clad all in white, David Duke, the former Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard, said: "We are going to fulfil the promises of Donald Trump. That's what we believed in, that's why we voted for Donald Trump. Because he said he's going to take our country back."
Jason Kessler, the organiser of the Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, later had to be escorted away by police as he attempted to hold a press conference near City Hall.
Kessler, a blogger based in Charlottesville, was smartly dressed in a suit jacket and open-necked shirt.
He was drowned out by chants including: "You're wearing the wrong hood," a reference to the Ku Klux Klan. Police then helped him away from the raucous scene.
Other white nationalists sought to defend their views.
Peter Cvjetanovic, 20, a history and politics under-graduate at the University of Reno in Nevada, said: "I came to this march for the message that white European culture has a right to be here just like every other culture.
"It is not perfect. There are flaws to it, of course. However, I do believe that the replacement of the statue will be the slow replacement of white heritage within the United States. Robert E Lee wasn't a perfect man, but I want to honour and respect what he stood for during his time."
A photograph of Cvjetanovic holding a torch and shouting became symbolic of the hatred shown at the event. But he said: "I'm not the angry racist they see in that photo. White nationalists aren't all hateful. We just want to preserve what we have."
The rally was supposed to start at noon local time, but an hour before that it descended into chaos. Neo-Nazis and counter-protesters fought running battles as riot police tried to intervene. Bottles full of paint flew and home made pepper spray filled the air.
Organisers of the rally issued an order to "evacuate" and the extremists began leaving Charlottesville. In a side street, a group of seven neo-Nazis tried to cram themselves, and a giant flagpole, into a small family vehicle. A comic scene unfolded as they feverishly tried various combinations before two ended up in the boot. As they sped off one of the men raised a hand in what was either a Nazi salute or an apology for the delay. It was hard to tell.
Brenda Diaz-Castro, holds a sign during a candlelight vigil on Sunday, Aug. 13, 2017, in Harrisonburg, Virginia. The vigil was held for the victims of the violence in Charlottesville. Photo / AP
Similar scenes unfolded across the town. In a car park a far-right demonstrator was assailed by a crowd as he tried to get in his car, while militiamen in fatigues, brandishing heavy weaponry and a Confederate flag, looked on.
Protesters chanted "F*** Trump" and "We don't want you here", while the far-right demonstrator shouted: "This is my country."
The day after the melee, the steps leading into Emancipation Park were still covered in purple paint and General Lee was surrounded by crash barriers. Nazi slogans scrawled in crayon on a pathway nearby were already fading, but the name "Robert E Lee" and the large numerals "1488" - a white power symbol - remained.
Residents steered clear of the park apart from one elderly woman who stood at the edge, her arms folded, staring at the statue.
"I'm sick of that statue," she said. "Who cares about a statue? I don't."
Nearby, Merle Robertson, 88, was on her way to her Episcopalian church. "I'm just so disgusted." she said. "I watched it on TV and I was mesmerised to think this was happening in our little town, all this horrible stuff. It's a nice quiet little place, that's why it's so heartbreaking."
Kessler has vowed to "have bigger and bigger events in Charlottesville".
