Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have seen a cabin begin to rise in the wilderness in a short morning, built of pulled up logs and hacked deadfall, by two long legged men with axes.

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.

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.......

[Alamo Guard]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

As many of you know I was the Preacher moving about the armies and civilians. When not hauling, grain, hay or water for the troops I would pop up almost anywhere.
I stopped off sometimes to beg food from the armies for the civilians living in the woods. I was amazed by the men who had so little and gave so much. The children sure enjoyed the crackers that you tired men gave. The monies you donated was given to the women for needed supplies as Im sure the men would have spent it all on something wasteful, right?

[Spinster]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

Oh no Doug, its never really over--you always carry it in your heart, and the work we all do is lasting.

Within our ranks was a writer--an Englishman--and you may not have seen him. When the Army's schedule, location, and route changed on Thursday night, we fixed him a bedroll and a bag of food and I 'parachuted' him in between the lines shortly after midnight.

He's written other books about folks who make journeys, but this one is about people like us--living historians who do immersion events, who go on 'adventures' in past times. In the last year he has marched for days with Roman Legions and sailed the ocean in a Viking ship. He moved amoungst us as a "reporter for the London Times".

I saw him move off into the darkness in the wee hours of Friday morning. The next time I saw him, he came into the clearing with the long strides of a runner, calling for a medic and an ambulance for troops some distance away. And, after our medical team went off, he quietly pulled out his journal and began to write.

My last vision of him Sunday as I pulled away from the clearing was that of a long lanky man with a towel and a bar of homemade soap, headed for our lovely waterfall with great anticipation. I imagine he will write about that waterfall too.

Along with all the other things we do.

And folks will read about it. And learn something.

[DougCooper]

Re: Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

All I can think of to say is:

"It was all too real"

The best event I have ever attended, and that did more things, all of which by themselves could have "made the event."

The tone you hear from Terre Lawson, the "Angel of the Howling Wilderness", was exactly how we felt in the ranks.

The organizers - Fred Baker, Tom Yearby and civilian Terre Lawson, among the other folks who worked so hard on this, did an extraordinary job before and during the event. They had it all covered, rain or shine, medical and logistics, loss of key folks, etc. In short, they allowed us to do great things.

This morning, as the preservation raffle was concluded and folks began to drift away on the long drive or flight home, Steve Mayeux, head of
Friends of Fort DeRussy was overcome with the generosity and comradeship of the men and women of BGR and asked me this simple question:

"Doug, you mean you are all now just parting ways, its all over?"

I said - "yes, its what we do - but this band of brothers and sisters will do it again, somewhere else, for a battlefield and a cause always worthy of our best efforts."

I am too tired and too far from home to write more.

[Spinster]

Oh the Wonders I have Witnessed

I have seen a cabin begin to rise in the wilderness in a short morning, built of pulled up logs and hacked deadfall, by two long legged men with axes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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 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.

I have seen a young widow with her baby strapped to her back and her husband's bloody shirt in her arms, dodge betweeen two armies into percieved safety and home, and find no hiding place there.

I have heard the coyotes howl in the night, and seen the chickens huddle closer to the door.

I have seen children go off a fishin', with poles and bait and picnics and such--fishin' though that does not mean catchin'

I have seen a man hungry enough for hot food, and bereft enough of something to take it in, to hold out his hat as a bowl for the food, and eat from it with his hands.

I have seen women cook enough to feed an army in an handfull of pots over broken deadfall, and haul it a half mile over broken terrain at dusky dark to feed that army.

I have heard voices, strong high, and sweet, singing over the washpots as they did the laundry for 19 people, with scrub boards and washpots, with water hauled with buckets and yoke, over fires they built themselves.

I have seen two women who never, ever stopped cooking.

And two more who never, ever stopped nursing.

And another who never ever was at a loss for fine things five children could find to do.

I have seen an army appear in an instant, silent as the grave, and there without warning. Even though I knew they were coming, and from which direction.

And in that dappled sunlit piney woods, one army looks about like another, hard to tell apart--weary, hard, hungry, men------here, gone.

And leaving us in their wake......to rebuild a war torn land.

Banks Grand Retreat.
No Whiners
No Shirkers
No Weaklings