Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have seen men who never stopped working to build a home in the wilderness for their families, and who prayed to Heaven the war would not come to their farms.

In choosing how we would shelter family units for this event, our plans went through a number of permutations.

Our original plans on original site called for houses built in place. When we moved to public land, we moved to the concept of prefab houseing.

Those prefab houses fell like grain before the scythe, to unemployment, life-threatening illness, court cases--with the last one falling out days before the event when its transport vehicle wrecked.

I've never been one to leave anyone behind over something so small as shelter, and thus we arrived with enough canvas to rig a clipper ship.

And even before we'd got even part of it set, men were down in the woods, dragging up deadfall, hewing notches, and shelters were rising, to be chinked with mud and topped with weathered painted canvas as we scattered out into the woods.

We had opted for a 'split camp' design---putting tentage in the Forest Service designated primitive camping area, allowing room for medical care, for heavy cooking needed to support certain interactive scenarios, and for large scale water supply in wood barrels. This area also enabled us to better establish fire breaks and care for large animals as they became unable to proceed with the wagons. This area was agreed upon as 'off limits' to military looting.

More remote locations provided an authentic and realistic atmosphere, were fair game for looting, and required a lot of work and travel to build and maintain.

Accomplishing this task were Roger Adams ( Echelberger?), Brandon "Happy" Carpenter, Mark Simpson, Danny Burns, and while Jim Bruce was not suppossed to be swinging an axe, I imagine he did.

The recent controlled burns in the area proved invaluable in clearing brush and freeing dead trees to build these structure. As with all National Forest Service Areas, the cutting of live trees was prohibited, and that rule was followed.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I nodded as the men negotiated a young boy's apprenticeship and watched as the boy walked away behind the wheel ox, to a new life and the responsibilities of a man

I have not yet seen an image come rolling in of young Travis Simpson. He left us rather early in the game, so I hope one will. He is the image of a boy/man--standing on the brink of leaving childhood, too old for the other children, too young for the men, originally detailed to aid in taking care of a family group that would need aid with wood, water, and fire in a remote location--- but they never checked in.

So when Gerry asked if I had a boy about, quiet discussions took place behind hands, then a longer and very real one after dinner in the front room. Gerry negotiated with Mark Simpson the terms of the boy's apprenticeship as a wagoneer's lad, the duties required, and the opportunities available for a young man with such a trade. He also explained that while he himself had started at a younger age, the boy was still of a fine age to learn.

The boy bowed up a bit when he realized that all pay for such work went to his father, as it did by rights to aid the household, and then settled down. Papers signed, money changed hands, and the next day the boy went to work, hauling hay and water, learning commands and duties

As the day's shawdows lengthened, they departed, old man, oxen, boy and wagon, off to an unknown future.

When they returned to us in later days, Gerry said quietly "I'll take this fine boy anywhere, on any length of trek you will let him go"

I swear, Travis was a foot taller than when I'd seen him last.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have listened to the wagonneer as he told the stories of his service in the 1812 War, and told the stories of the wars his fathers fought before him.

Chawls has mentioned in another place my quiet notice to him that we had stepped down from all the first person fol-de-rol we'd planned, and his commentary is noted here

"Terre had warned me the camp had migrated out of first person immersion mode a day or so earlier, but I'll attest to the fact the camp had more immersion going on than most immersion events.

As a group, we tend do our characters more 'on the fly'--they are well prepared, and a good deal of time had been spent by the various families, adult and child alike. Still and all, there are those that look down there noses at this style, hold themselves to be more authentic, whether they have learned a thing about survival on a frontier, or not.

We departed quickly from those prepared activities as soon as I realized the depth of resource we had available in Gerry, whose stories and tales of Cracker history added more to our lives and knowledge than a semester in college, and stretched back into the mists of time.

He explained to me many of the roots of things I had insisted upon for this trip out of sheer instinct--that no one was allowed to be helpless or useless in protraying the farming familes of the Cane River area--no parlour queens or drawing room men allowed here, but folks with skills able to care for themselves in rough land.

Four years ago now, Sister and I reset our reenacting ages, changed our wardrobes, and drew our baseline characters from folks recorded in Pickett's 1851 A History of Alabama. Those baseline characters serve us well, poor white in three time periods.

And, Gerry tells me that the 'family structure' concept I required for the event, that seemed so onerous to a number of applicants, is a given in some other time periods, required for the safety of the participants and the growth of skill and interaction of those reenacting the time period.

So, soon enough, once the clothes are shook out, breaths drawn, and pocketbooks replenished, Gerry tells me we'll be poor white in four time periods.

[Moose]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Mrs. Lawson -
The civilian camp was one of the highlights for me. You all did a fantastic job. As one of the "wandering few" we had a unique experiance with the civilians, really "living" amoung you for a day and watching all of your day-to-day activities. The civilains were very kind to us, but always kept a watchful eye out for the"Yankee boys." Walking into your camp, sharing in your food and some chores really made my event. Thank you.

Joseph Caridi
77th Ill. - "Stragglers Mess"

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have laid my head against an ox's side and felt his great heart beat.

Our original call for participants for the civilian portion of this event called for folks to organize themselves into families, and included the following line :

Since the site cannot support a large number of civilian participants, these applications will be used to construct a community comparable to those in the area. In other words--you get extra points for children, old folks, period trades, animals and such like in your household.

Along with age ranges and a male and female mix, animals were considered a vital part that application---just as they were in everyday life in the 1860's.

Children carried the primary responsibility for care of the animals for the event, under the broad supervision of the adults. In addition to Gerry's four oxen, there were two dogs, a flock of chickens, and several horses. Milks goats were planned as a substitute for milk cows, but we were unable to obtain them for local sources (there's that land and date change again), and unable to transport them.

Folks wonder what we do all day------with animals to feed, water to haul, meals to prepare, school to hold, spinning, knitting, mending, fires to tend, structures to build.

The reality is, we never stop.

But every great once in awhile, old bones rise in the cold night, walk down under blazing stars and speak softly to the oxen. And the great red beast allows the liberty of a warm embrace, and the strong sound of another beating heart.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Gerry's in my email box right now, exhausted from a 17 hour drive, and says the boys are happy and sound asleep.

And yes, seeing Gerry seize Charles :D (the ox most prone to 'issues') by the yoke and give him a good eye to eye talking to is another great joy not to be missed.

He also want to know when we are getting up to go again. Since Jack King has been making noises for about a year now, I better get my good walking shoes resoled. Whatever got on them down below New Orleans last year ate them right up.

[Charles Heath]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Terre,

I mentioned to Joe and Steve that they looked much like Red Durham, but didn't get a chance to ask the oxhandler. They were very well kept animals, and I understand Gerry's language is as colorful as any muleskinner's. They were very special, and it is rare these days to see a four-up of oxen. Phil would have enjoyed seeing that operation as much as I did, or even more.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have seen a yoke of four oxen, a blue wagon, and a grizzeled wagoneer plodding through the deep woods.

I'd heard of Gerry and his oxen, named for the four kings of England he hates the most, through Darling Daughter and her work at Fort Defiance, North Carolina We'd had the joy of meeting him in the crisp cold Christmas at Mansker's Station, riding in the great cart under the blazing stars.

When I saw those great red horned heads coming out of their trailer in the Kitsachie, I nearly burst into tears with the sheer joy of having such a grand thing move through our lives. I'd known it coming, and kept it secret from the others.

These oxen are trained to voice command--great shaggy vest pocket animals who will do anything for their daddy. They come up to yoke and water by name, turn and tiptoe delicately as 2000 pounds of sheer muscle can be said to do. Gerry tells us they are paired and herd animals--that it is not unusual for one ox to follow its yoke mate shortly if the first one dies, or for all to die if the wagoneer dies.

Miss Bertie and I followed them, flashers on, for the first few miles, in low gear, and often riding the brakes, to hold far back and provide a guard for the wagon moving at 4 to 6 miles per hour down the paved road. We marveled at the meandering path taken to get the wagon down the hill, and the mark the brake wheel of the wagon left on the road--a path that later proved valuable and readable as we hunted the army.

Gerry and Tim walked beside the wagon rumbling down that road, and others took up escort as the day went on. Some hours later they walked into our little clearing, and I noted that Gerry was barefooted---just as Daughter said he always was.

Chawls has asked elsewhere the breed of the oxen. The proper name escapes me, other than they were imported from England, and were of the sort that a prosperous and forward looking man would have purchased in the early 1700's--if he will go over and ask on the BGR military board, Gerry wanders through every now and again.

The blue wagon itself was painted with a period paint, mixed from local clay, turpentine, and linseed oil, as well as some coloring known to me from my dyepots. Its interior held the period tools common to its use at the time, along with quilts and buffalo robes.

Gerry had used its cotton cover over the bows, knowing that the deep woods would tear the expensive linen cover, but grumbling that the cotton cover lets in the rain, while the linen one does not.

He and Tim were glad for the shelter I had built for injured soldiers, as it provided a night of relatively dry sleep.

Gerry takes longer treks than we have dreamed---three to six months, and has traveled the great wagon roads of this country, along with a family group of 18th century reenactors.

Gerry and those fine oxen are also the ones who built another little home in the woods that we have come to love---one we know as Brown's Stand.

Folks will be adventuring there next weekend. I hope they have as fine a time as we did.

[Rob Murray]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Mrs. Lawson, I would like to thank you and the citizens for their help during the long march. Thanks to their kind hands, five men of Co. B, 81st Ill. were able to complete the march a little more comfortably. Many thanks.

Rob Murray
Capt.
Co. B, 81st, Ill

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have seen men weep because they had fallen out, unable to go another step, held their hands and told them they were home.

Many men kept going on this event because they loved those men they were marching with. The bonding of men in such circumstances is deep and abiding---yet another reason I do not hold with women in and around military camps---it interferes with a process that forms and makes men, in a society that increasingly does not allow that vital process to occur.

Knowing that, we had prepared in certain ways for those who simply could not sustain any longer. We wanted to to provide excellence in medical care, to offer a period experience within the scope and level of the injured man's ability to perform, to enable those who were fit to return to the ranks, and to keep one man's injury from taking out a whole carpool.

Accordingly, our medical team consisted of long time reenactors with professional medical experience. Kimberlee Bruce is a Certified Nurse Practitioner, an RN with a Master's in Nursing---her special training allows her to work under a doctor's broad supervision to write prescriptions, suture wounds, and perform a variety of emergency medical services. Jim Bruce is MedTech with service in the Vietnam War, and a continuing career in emergency rooms. Diana Myers is an RN with specialty training in OB and pediatric work in addition to emergency medicine.

With no idea as to the weather, or numbers of fall outs to be reasonably expected, we packed a number of extra things.

My big 12 X 12 A tent, and a stack of painted cloth, in case the nights were unseasonably cold and wet.

I purchased a new 16 x 16 Tentsmiths tarp--a shelter designed with multiple loops on the brown canvas that would allow arrangment into any form from a free-standing fly, to a shebang, to another tent.

Six blankets, two feather beds, a bearskin, several gallons of molassas and vinegar, and Kimberlee's fully stocked medical box.

All saw heavy use--and proved one of my maxims that there is no such thing as too many blankets or oilcloths. I started the event with two feather ticks under me and three blankets around me---about my usual load as I chill easily. We ended it with Amy and I on one tick with blanket and baby.

Most injuries were the normal things----heat and muscular, though there were two serious medical evacuations for heart and cramping problems. One man who presented as simple exhaustion and dehydration was actually far more serious, and required monitoring for the next 24 hours as he also had a medication imbalance that was exacerbated by the hydration problem.

I noted quickly that the invalids would not avail themselves of the comforts of a closed floored tent unless ordered to, and that order was not given unless a medical necessity prevailed. The ranged them selves around that open tarp, kept the bake fires moving, drug up dead fall and chopped it, hauled water with bucket and yoke.

It was a fine thing to hear an Old Soldiers Home begin to take form outside my door, and a comfort to hear their voices long in the night.

While they did not finish the march in quite the same way, they were in place to welcome the troops home. They too made an adventure in the wilderness, pulled their own weight, and added to the strength of the community. I am thankful to them.

I am equally sorry that there were whole carpools who fell out when only one man in the group had a minor injury. Provisions had been made for the comfort and safety of all, while maintaining a period experience. I am not sure where the line of communication failed on that availablity, and would like to know it for future reference.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Nearly three years ago, when this event was envisoned on private land, structures were planned to be built in place. Somewhere along the way, a bargain was struck to move the event a year to accomodate Rich Mountain, and to make a trade--the men of the Texas Ground Hornets made the long journey east for Rich Mountain, and men from the east were to make the long journey west for Banks Grand Retreat.

Decorum prevents my commenting on how this bargain was kept.]

Oh Doug, I know full and well how that bargain was kept. That I why I mentioned it. Fred is too much of a gentleman to do so. I am not. That bargain cost us a good two dozen static civilians, and two large traveling families, traded off for an event style that is increasingly the case----"no civilians", as we reenact a war fought on civilian land with civilian goods and civilian casualties.

Lives change in a year, but a word given should be kept when at all possible. In our small community we've seen cancer, stroke, large scale unemployment, cross country transfers, military call up, divorce and child custody cases----you know, all the really important things in life. Still and all----well, you saw it.

There is a lot of deadfall in a pine barren. Controlled burns on National Forest Service land clean those barrens and make the wood accessible. While some were setting the main camp on Sunday, others were out in the woods dragging up log and stone, notching them out and beginning to stack. Painted canvas had been brought with us in every size and variety to serve as roof.

Those who arrived later found shelters and homes in those woods , and a source of mucky chinking clay nearby.

And more abuilding...

Again, the building effort put in by the civilians was astonishing to our eyes. One of the tents even looked to have some floor boards obviously salvaged from a period structure. Floor coverings and as many comforts as could be placed on a wagon by refugees in flight were used. Heck, everything was in use.

I hope somebody took photos before you guys moved on Terre. It was amazing.

:D You noticed our Imported Eye-talian Parquet Floors did you? :D

Had all gone according to time table, those would have gone up in a blaze of glory to give you Confeds even more eye candy to fight about.

Danny Burns works for a company that gets transmissions from Italy in big wooden crates. The large cupboard in the front room was one of those crates whole and intact, while the floors in that room, the back kitchen, and the two side rooms were also made of those broken down crates.

Danny Burns and Mark Simpson put a lot of time into those floor panels. The crates themselves were free. Hauling them from Lexington, Kentucky on a flatbed trailer at eight miles to a gallon was not.

And when we got about 4 inches of rain they were priceless.

Oh, and that trailer started 'walking' about 30 miles into that journey--which means the Burns and Simpsons, with five children and 2 dogs, unloaded that trailer in vacant parking lot in central Kentucky on Friday night, then reloaded it to balance the walking problem-------all the while fending off folks who wanted to know "How much you want for that barrel, chair, rope bed, table, stove, ........

It was about 2 am Saturday morning when they rolled into Tuscaloosa.

[DougCooper]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Nearly three years ago, when this event was envisoned on private land, structures were planned to be built in place. Somewhere along the way, a bargain was struck to move the event a year to accomodate Rich Mountain, and to make a trade--the men of the Texas Ground Hornets made the long journey east for Rich Mountain, and men from the east were to make the long journey west for Banks Grand Retreat.

Decorum prevents my commenting on how this bargain was kept.

And somewhere in that year of slide, the private land was lost, the event moved to public land, and civilians moved to the concept of portable structures--a daunting and expensive task.

Some of those structures fell by the way due to lost jobs, family crisis, devasting illness, life-threatening injury, and the simple inability to do the task. I was unwilling to leave anyone behind over something so small as what we used for shelter as we built a community of rural farm folk, so no one was left out because of the lack. The last portable structure fell victim less than two weeks before the event when its hauling vehicle spun and totaled on black ice in Ohio, mercifully leaving that family unhurt.

There is a lot of deadfall in a pine barren. Controlled burns on National Forest Service land clean those barrens and make the wood accessible. While some were setting the main camp on Sunday, others were out in the woods dragging up log and stone, notching them out and beginning to stack. Painted canvas had been brought with us in every size and variety to serve as roof.

Those who arrived later found shelters and homes in those woods , and a source of mucky chinking clay nearby.

And more abuilding...

Again, the building effort put in by the civilians was astonishing to our eyes. One of the tents even looked to have some floor boards obviously salvaged from a period structure. Floor coverings and as many comforts as could be placed on a wagon by refugees in flight were used. Heck, everything was in use.

I hope somebody took photos before you guys moved on Terre. It was amazing.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have heard distant cannon boom through the night, and wild hogs snort and snuffle near by.

Now, obviously, our men were not fighting and firing all through the night. And when we first heard the cannon's roar, they weren't even on the place--it was only Sunday, and the civilian contingient was the only portion there.

No, this was another shining example of the excellent choice Fred Baker and Tom Yearby made to use this particular piece of land---we sat at a high point and miles away was the active and working Fort Polk range, where a modern army was on training manuevers this week. One women in our number had hoped to see her brother in the course of the week, as he is stationed there.

Instead, his orders put him out in those same forests, with live munitions, and we heard the war close in around us from the very moment we stepped on the place.

The wild hog were another matter. Primarily noturnal and shy, they are large and can easily kill a man, especially during mating season or when the shoats are young.

We pulled perimeters in accordingly, and made provision for 'bear bags' for some of the food. We had some family units who wished to live more remotely from their neighbors and I scouted sites that would allow that option while still maintaining the wisdom and safe guards that would remove them from discerned hog paths.

Additionally we had two modern weapons in the place, well loaded with hog shot, and hung high--so that we could reach them readily but the obedient children could not.

We required the children to wear emergency whistles--high pitched and loud, to be blown when in danger or lost. If they became disoriented, their instructions were to sit down and blow until someone found them. We recommended them for adults as well.

Living and working in a wilderness area is not something to just be blundered into. It requires a great deal of planning, woodcraft skill, and cooperation within and between family units for the safety of all.

And, I must admit, that first night, when my shelter was set up some distance from the home of my neighbors, and the rest of my 'family' had not yet arrived, when I heard the first hog snort in the darkness, I very nearly went flying barefooted accross that clearing and into the rope bed occupied by 2 children and one large bloodhound.

As I was gathering myself for that run, the blood hound came loping out of the house , circled my place and laid there for awhile. When she commenced to snore, so did I.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have stood under a sudden waterfall in a Howling Wilderness, good for bathing and for drinking, tumbling down weathered rocks.

Well, alright, I didn't stand under it. Kimberlee said "Now Miss Terre we can get you down there ........." which I knew meant that it was a terribly bad idea, and one that could result in a little helicopter ride for me. Always a bad idea to do something stupid and beyound one's known ability just for the hardcore points. Especially if it causes grief and trouble for others.

Besides, I started the week leaning on my cane only at night when there was no moon, and ended it reaching for my stick or any substitute with every step, except when I was too prideful to do so.

But I could hear it it, cool and tumbling down the rocks to the platform of hewn wood the men placed under it. And one fine day, Miss Bertie helped me down the upper trail for a splashie bath in the shallows as it poured out of the spring and off the ledge.

One rough huck towel, one bar of homemade soap, one pair clean drawers and a rough linen chemise that Racquelle and Sarah had washed and dried. Turn my stockings inside out, shake and smooth my dress and hair, and I was a new woman.

Folks trained for this event in different ways--one of mine was a bit odd. For the last 10 months, I have taken only a "Saturday night bath", washing daily with bowl and basin, and washing my hair every one to two weeks. That change has served to toughen my skin, change the chemistry of it, make it not so thin, delicate, and easy to blister or chafe. And the chill was not a true problem--with various rennovation challenges, we've had only intermittent hot water at my home for the last six months.

That trail to the waterfall also had another fine resource, pointed out by the oxcart driver. Churned mucky clay, just the stuff for hauling out in buckets and making a fine period paint. And, he told me the receipt for it, including how to make it blue just the color of his wagon, with mixtures I already knew from my dyepots.

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have seen a fine Bloodhound find new purpose in life, doing the work God created her to do.

Diva was about like any other young bloodhound in a household living on a good-sized city lot. She had a couple of children who loved her, and not really much to do. She'd been educated to search and rescue a bit, but hadn't gotten to use it. Mostly she laid about living history sites on the weekends and tolerated spectator children who kissed her and tugged too hard on her ears.

She was bored. listless, and damn tired of spending life on the end of a leash.

Within a half day in the Kitsachie, she was a new dog, a dog with a job, punching a timeclock and going to work, just as surely as a man gets up and goes joyfully to his carpenter's shop on a Saturday morning.

Leash gone, she established an outer perimeter to be circled and checked regularly for trespassers, and and inner one more for socialble purposes, as she checked both the tent and remote log house camps on a regular basis.

She quickly discerned the difference between civilian dress, military dress, military men who were ill and needed help, Park Service folks in uniform, and just plain old modern folks---and addressed each of them differently, and in accordance with their station and need.

She negotiated a truce with the oxen--after taking a 15 foot flight through the air.

She herded children and guarded chickens.

And she played with a tiny dashhound /terrier named Tad all week, a fine game of Big Dog /Little Dog tag, with no home base, and no off limits---except right there around the oxen.

And when the day was over, she took her bed at dusky dark, first on her on ticking, but eventually in the children's rope bed as the nights grew cold and wet-----but not for long.

Her job was never done, for in the night I would hear her lope through, checking, patrolling, guarding her perimeter and her people.

Dog with a job. Everything created for a purpose, and better for it when it fulfills it.