A Great Ending to a Fine Season

(All photos were taken at this year's Christmas Party)

Many years ago, before our involvement in Civil War reenacting, my wife, Patty, and I had spoken many times about throwing a Victorian Christmas party. The idea was to have all of our friends dress in "costume" and pretend that we were in the 1800's by way of candle lit rooms, maybe reading passages from Dickens "A Christmas Carol," drinking wassail, etc. Of course, we had no idea how to put something like this together, and found it to be nearly impossible to have our friends, most who had not even the slightest interest in this sort of thing, dress in 19th century clothing.
It was a nice thought but never happened.
Then came reenacting.
It was around six or seven years ago, when I was relatively new to living history, that the thought of finally being able to participate in a period Christmas party would come to pass. And, yes, a Christmas party was on the schedule. Unfortunately, I was not able to attend due to previous commitments. I searched on the unit web site for pictures taken at the party, to see the fun I missed. I must say, I was a bit disappointed. Not only was the party held at a sports bar, but everyone was dressed in modern clothing. To top it off, the food served was mainly pizza, beer, and pop (soda to you non-midwesterners!).
One would never know that the gathering at hand were Civil War reenactors.
I then checked out other reenacting units, and I found the same across the board: just plain old modern clothing Christmas parties from each and every reenacting unit I came across.
This was quite the let down for me.
I mentioned to my wife that maybe I could step in and bring our dream Christmas into reality, so later that year I spoke with the unit board of directors and asked about having a period Christmas party. I told them we could use the 1872 schoolhouse in the city where I live and and we could ask members to bring a dish to pass...something that would have /could have been eaten during the mid-19th century. They liked the idea but I would have to take it on. I did willingly, although I did have some help.
That very next December we had our first Civil War Christmas party.

It went off like gangbusters - it was everything I hoped it would be and more. Our members dressed in their 1860's finest, the food was out of this world, and we even had one very talented member play Christmas songs on her violin.
It was the talk of the season! It felt like a period Christmas party should feel like - a Holiday right out of the past!
Of course, the following year followed suit. And every year since. Here and there we have invited guests from other units to join in our celebration as well as having Michigan's very own President and Mrs. Lincoln (Fred and Bonnie Priebe) taking part.
This past January 9 we continued our tradition, and it turned out to be the best one yet. The Christmas spirit was with us, even two weeks after December 25th, and it actually felt more like a time-travel experience than any Christmas party before. One big reason was that our resident fiddler formed a period instrumental group and we held a mini ball, where our revelers spent the evening dancing jigs and reels, including one of my favorites, the Virginia Reel (amongst others).

Dancing the Virginia Reel

The evening was filled with laughter, dancing, singing, eating...even a Thomas Nast Santa right out of Harper's Weekly! It was all that one would expect to see and hear at a 19th century Christmas party. The atmosphere couldn't have been better!

I cannot express how much fun this party was - the perfect ending to a wonderful Christmas Season.
You ought to get your unit to give it a try next year!

~Me and my family~

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Time and Again - A Reenactor's Story?

I received the book "Time and Again" by Jack Finney from a friend for Christmas this year. I have heard much about this book but had never read it. I guess there was a reason - I am writing my own time-travel story and I didn't want any influence from anywhere or anyone else. But, I suppose all time-travel stories have a connecting link in a way. A good thing is that my story is definitely different from this one, not just the time period but in style and in the plot.
That's a good thing.
However, Mr. Finney truly thought of a unique realm to the time-travel experience. It's here that I am going to infringe on the copyright laws, and present a very interesting concept to the possibility of time-travel from Mr. Finney's book in which I believe many true-spirited reenactors and living historians can possibly relate and learn:

' Presently (Einstein) said that our ideas about time are largely mistaken. And I don't doubt for an instant that he was right once more. Because one of his final contributions not too long before he died was to prove that all of his theories are unified. They're not separate but inter-connected.
He meant that we're mistaken in our conception of what the past, present, and future really are. We think the past is gone, the future hasn't happened, and that only the present exists. Because the present is all we can see. It's only natural. (Einstein) said we're like people in a boat without oars drifting along a winding river. Around us we see only the present. We can't see the past, back in the bends and curves behind us. But, it's there.
You know the year, the day, and the month for literally millions of reasons: because the blanket you woke up under this morning may have been at least partly synthetic; because there is probably a box in your apartment with a switch; turn that switch, and the faces of living human beings will appear on a glass screen in the face of that box and speak nonsense to you. Because red and green lights signaled when you might cross a street on your way here this morning; because teenage children you saw were dressed as they were, because the front page of the Times looked precisely as it did this morning and as it never will again or ever has before.

The main character of the story was then taken to an older part of the city (in this case, New York) and the prospect of time-travel began once again:

You can see yesterday; most of it is left. There's even a good deal (of the 2oth century). There are fragments of still earlier days. Single buildings. Sometimes several together. Those places are fragments still remaining, of days which once lay out there as real as the day lying out there now, still surviving fragments of a clear April morning of 1871, a gray winter afternoon of 1840, a rainy dawn of 1793.

The main character then went to the Dakota Apartment Building, built in the early 1880's, which stands in front of Central Park. The dialogue continues:

The Dakota is unique. Suppose you were to stand at a window of one of the upper apratments and looked down into the park; say at dawn when very often no cars are to be seen. All around you is a building unchanged from the day it was built, including the room you stand in and very possibly even the glass pain you look through.
Picture one of those apratments standing empty for two months in the summer of 1894, as it did. Picture our arranging to sublet that very apartment for those identical months for the coming summer. If Albert Einstein is right - as he is - then hard as it may be to comprehend, the summer of 1894 still exists. That silent empty apartment exists back in that summer precisely as it exists in the summer that is coming. Unaltered and unchanged, identical in each, and existing in each. I believe it may be possible, you understand, for a man to walk out of that unchanged apartment and into that other summer.
(But), the uncountable millions of invisible threads that exist in here would bind him to this (coming) summer, no matter how unaltered the apartment around him. ...It occurred to me that just possibly there is a way to dissolve those threads...'

Pretty interesting stuff, eh? This is exactly how I look at my time during a reenactment. Dissolving those threads that connect me to the present (or future, however you would like to put it) is always at the forefront of my mind while I am at an event, even with the modern patrons about. I can see through these reminders of the 21st century, so-to-speak. I do not ignore them, of course, but I can over-look the fact that the visitors are wearing modern clothing - I am learning to bring my mind to that level. Actually, I have a much harder time with the period-dressed reenactors acting like their 21st century selves rather than their 19th century counterparts.

This is what I believe we all need to work on as living historians. Nothing ruins that moment like seeing the take-off-the-period-clothing-and-put-on-the-sweat-pants crowd after the event is closed for the evening to the general public.
In our camp, instead, my son will pull out the guitar and sing period tunes such as Lorena, Wayfaring Stranger, Goober Peas, or Just Before the Battle Mother (among others), or my other son will whip out the fife and perform Road to Boston or some other classic of the era.

And, as evening turns to night, sitting around the fire can keep you "in the moment." Members in our camp stay in their period clothing throughout, and then some of us - myself included, will put on period nightclothes at bedtime so as to awaken the next morning already "there." My time in the past continues for as long as I let it, or until someone has to, unfortunately, remind me (if you know what I mean).

My family and I eating breakfast at the restored Tillie Pierce House in Gettysburg April 2008. We were in our period clothing the entire time there and stayed at the Tillie Pierce House - now a bed & breakfast.
Note: nothing farby in this image.
Were we really there?

Can you imagine if every participant at an event did their best to practice accurately the authenticity of the early 1860's? Who knows? We might even be able to create a time warp in that alone!!
Happy time-traveling!

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Civil War Christmas Party

Last night was the Christmas party of the Civil War reenacting unit that I belong to, the 21st Michigan. What's nice about this party is that it is period dress and held in a 19th century schoolhouse. And most members do come dressed appropriately, wearing their finest Civil War era clothing. Even President and Mrs. Lincoln attend! The food we have is, for the most part, period correct: venison stew, turkey, ham, beef stew, homemade stuffing, squash, turnips, beets, mashed potatos, as well as many different kinds of desserts. And wassail to drink! To cut down on garbage, we ask our members to bring their own accurate plates, bowls, silverware, and glasses.

After our feast, there is a 'white elephant' gift exchange for the adults (not period correct, as far as I know - especially the gifts! - but fun!) and a gift giving for the children.
Some of our very talented members provide the music for us throughout the evening by performing as a stringed quartet - old world Christmas music as well as some beautiful classical pieces. And then the final sing-a-long of Civil War era tunes such as "Just Before the Battle Mother," "Listen to the Mockingbird," "Lorena," "Battle Cry of Freedom," "Goober Peas," "Wayfaring Stranger," and even one of Mr. Lincoln's favorites, "Dixie's Land," ends the evening on a high note.

Yes, there were, unfortunately, many things that were farby: the electric lights (fire marshall will not allow us to have candles or oil lamps lit inside this historic building), the way the food was cooked (slow cookers, etc.), the Christmas Tree lights, and even a few people! But, just as with most reenactments, one must learn to over-look these things which are not period correct and concentrate on what is.
All 'n' all, it was quite a festive evening!
This is a wonderful way to end the Christmas season, a period party in a period location, and I am very happy that the unit celebrates in this manner.

And now, on to the clear slate of 2009, where I pray that "better times are coming" (as the old Stephen Foster song goes).

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Unmentionables

I had a very interesting discussion the other day on how far one should go when they reenact. No, I don't mean travel-wise - I mean in your total make up. Specifically underdrawers.
There are those who feel that they shouldn't have to wear period correct underdrawers because, well, no one sees them. It is true, however, that no one sees them (hopefully!). But, if you are a female, by not wearing proper underpinnings can take away that Victorian silhouette that was so prominent in the era.
Dressing to the nines (as they said) is so very important to the Victorian shape of a woman that it is easily to spot one who is not wearing correct underpinnings.

What about the men? Well, I was surprised to hear during a recent conversation while at an event that more than I thought in our unit wear period correct underdrawers - you know, the kind that button up the front and are ankle length.

My 19th century bvd's

But, does it make a difference?
You bet it does!

In my opinion (and it's just my opinion, mind you) one cannot fully experience that "you are there" feeling with fruit of the looms squeezing your mid-section. One cannot know what our ancestors felt when they really had to "go" and had to unbutton their pants and drawers to relieve themselves. One cannot truly experience the past ("seeing the elephant") without having the same feel of clothing that those we are emulating felt.
Might as well wear a polyester sack coat.
I know I know - I can hear many now telling me that I'm an extremist. Yeah, maybe I am. But, I feel that if you want to do it right, then do it right. And, at least I know that I'll be ready when I suddenly find myself transported back to the 19th century!
Anyhow, this is my two cents.

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Thoughts on Civil War Civilian Reenacting

More interactive than a book and more accurate than many movies, reenactments allow visitors to not just glimpse history, but to step back and experience a moment in time.

It's sad, now, knowing that the living history/reenacting season is over - my main solace from 21st century life. Oh yeah, I know that the Christmas Season is within arm's reach, and that makes me glad. But, still, I enjoy my excursions into the life of an 1860's citizen immensely. As I said, it's my solace.
I've had a few reenactors ask me why I do not portray a soldier. In the citizen/civilian realm of the reenacting world, there are very few of us males - most men prefer the military. Personally, I just have no interest in reenacting that part of history. I am not - and never have been - a military person (although I have nothing but respect for soldiers - actual and the reenacting "teachers"). Instead, since I have always loved social history, reenacting gives me the opportunity to pursue my 'fantasy' of living in the past as an ordinary citizen of mid-Victorian society.
You see, at the reenactments I portray a postmaster. I have period correct replica stationary, pen and ink, and a small post office set up for my impression.

During a number of events this year I have encouraged reenactors from multiple units to write letters and bring them to my "post office" where hopeful recipients can stop by to see if they received any mail. What I do is ask folks from many of the different units to write letters to soldiers, friends, and even family. They drop off their letters to my post office to hopefully be retrieved by folks knowing they may have mail (house to house mail delivery was a relatively new concept in the 1860's and was a rare occurrence - America was too rural of a country for home delivery. One went directly to the post office to get their mail). I also encourage the letter writers to use pen and ink. So far, it has been working great! My first time out I had dozens of letters in the slots, waiting to be picked up. By weekend's end, I ended up with only two pieces of mail that no one claimed - I located those people at the next event and told them they should visit my post office. They did and were happy.
At one particular event, my very good friend, Mike Gillett, who portrays a Chaplain with the 21st Michigan, read letters to the soldiers who were "illiterate" - an actual very touching (and historically correct) scenario.

Because of my post master impression, I have become known in the local reenacting scene. In fact, one veteran citizen reenactor told me that I was helping to make it more like an actual community.
I couldn't be happier. It sure beats camp sitting, this "having a 'purpose' while at a reenactment." And now I have an answer when I am asked by visiting patrons what my purpose is for being there, other than wearing period clothing. Now, I can give a short history lesson.
What fun!

Call the Farb Police!!

A post on re-enacting etiquette:
If you are "visiting" at another's camp at a re-enactment, whether for the day or if only for a short while, please be courteous and ask, before you plop yourself down, if the owner of the camp minds if you have plastic water bottles, vinyl diaper bag spilling over with modern sippy cups and toys, and non-reenacting friends dressed modern helping you "watch the kids" for the duration.
I have witnessed this re-enacting actrocity many times and it gets me steaming every time I see it. Ha! I've even seen a playpen set up under a fly - a Disney Characters playpen.
As a re-enactor, doesn't that anger you?
As a visitor to a re-enactment, doesn't that anger you as well?
It does me.
For those of us who get ticked at this blatant disrespect, I have a suggestion. At your next group/unit meeting, announce to one and all that your campsite is now "farb-free." No re-enactor is allowed within your "yard" if there is anything farby showing on their person.
I did this at our year end meeting last November and it has, so far, worked. My campsite has been virtually farb-less all season. In fact, in the same way that I have been called a stitch nazi (Stitch Counters Ain't So Bad), I have also been called the Farb Police.
I'll wear these badges proudly, if it improves our hobby!

A First Person Visit to the Past

If you ever want to really know what life was like for those who lived in the past, might I suggest reading the journals, letters, and diaries of persons from the 19th century? It's by reading these thoughts, feelings, and events-as-they-happened that one can fully immerse themselves into the past, even, dare I say, more than re-enacting can. Which is why I read as many of the early-mid-and late 19th century diaries and journals as often as I can. They create an understanding of everyday life of the time-period much greater and more accurate than any historian can.

Nearly all journals and diaries available seem to be written by women. The few written by men (at least that I have seen) are mostly written by soldiers.

The first diary snippet I will present is of a young teen named Caroline Cowles of New York, written on a Friday in May, 1854:

"Reverend Mr. Dickey, of Rochester, agent for the Seaman's Friend Society, preached this morning about the poor little canal boy. His text was from the 107th Psalm 23rd verse. He has the queerest voice and stops off between his words. When we got home (younger sister) Anna said she would show us how he preached and she described what he said about a sailor in time of war. She said, "A ball came---and struck him there---another ball came---and struck him there---he raised his faithful sword---and went on---to victory---or death." I expected Grandfather would reprove her, but he just smiled a queer sort of smile and Grandmother put her handkerchief up to her face, as she always does when she is amused about anything. I never heard her laugh out loud, but I suppose she likes funny things as well as anybody."

This puts some flesh on the bones of those long gone, doesn't it? Couldn't you see (and even hear) young Anna imitate the preacher, with the grandparents trying very hard not to burst out laughing?

How about something a little closer to home (for us that live in Michigan) - here are a few excerpts from letters written in late 1832 and early 1833 by Elizabeth Chandler, a young Quaker girl born in 1807 and died in 1834:

"We have had fine weather this fall in Michigan, and it still continues so. The farmers are still ploughing, and may perhaps do so for some time longer.

Our country is filling up fast but the Indian war and the Cholera have been great drawbacks on emmigration during the last season. Although the hostile Indians were two or three hundred miles from us, many fabulous and exaggerated accounts respecting them were spread abroad sufficient to deter numbers already prepared from removing at that time, and immediately after the appearance of the Cholera in various places was a sufficient cause to arrest the tide of emmigration."

Michigan, at this time, was considered Indian country.

How about life in a factory working woman's boarding house? Let's look into a typical 1844 evening for a young adult named Susan who was staying in a boarding house in New York:

"We had tea, flapjacks, and plum-cake for supper. There was also bread, butter, and crackers upon the table, but I saw no one touch them. After supper, the tables were cleared in a trice. Some of the girls came in with their sewing, some went to their own rooms, and some went 'out upon the street' - that is, they went to some meeting or evening school, or they went shopping, or visiting upon some other corporation, all of which is 'going upon the street' in factory parlance.

I retained my seat with the girls in the great keeping room, for Mrs. C had company in her own sanctum. Some book peddler, shoe peddler, essence peddler, and candy boys came in and made very strenuous exertions to attract our attention. By most of the girls they were treated with cool civility, but there were some noisy self-conceited misses who detained them under the pretense of examining goods for purchase, but who were slyly joking at the expense of the peddler."

Let's go back further into history - back to August 20th, 1787, where we find a journal written by the local (Hallowell, Maine) midwife, Martha Ballard. All spelling is as was originally written:

"Clear. Mr. Hinkly brot me to Mr. Westons. I heard there that Mrs. Clatons child departed this life yesterday & that she was thot expireing. I went back with Mr. Hinkly as far as there. Shee departed this Life about 1 p.m. I assisted to lay her out. Her infant laid in her arms. The first such instance I ever saw & the first woman that died in child bed which I delivered. I came home at dusk. Find my family all comfortable. We hear that three children expired in Winthrop last Saturday night."

A mother and child dying, three more children dying and nary a sad word except, "at least my family is well"...just everyday life in the 18th century.

Here's something to show the glamour of traveling by wagon train in 1865, written by 24 year old Sarah Raymond:

"When we had traveled about an hour the rains came down. I was likely to get very wet before our wagons came, for they were among the last in the train; I took the saddle and bridle off Dick, sat down on the saddle to keep it dry, and to wait for the wagons. I was resigning myself to a drenching when Mr. Grier, driver of the front wagon, came and spread a great big rubber coat over me, so that I was completey sheltered and was hardly damp when our wagons came.

There are more pleasant things than camping in the rain. The water is so impregnated with alkali that I fear it will cause sickness; the stock are in greater danger than we, for we can guard against it."

The above words from the journals and diaries show everyday life of folks doing everyday things in their time. But, what about when something historic happens in your town? For example, did you ever wonder how the folks felt in the weeks before the carnage of Gettysburg? The following are snippets from the many journals and diaries released in book and pamphlet form that will put the reader right smack dab in the middle of the fear and uncertainty of living in the Borough of Gettysburg, June 1863:

SARAH BROADHEAD: “June 15, 1863 – To-day we heard the Rebels were crossing the river in heavy force, and advancing on this State. No alarm was felt until Governor Curtis sent a telegram, directing the people to move their stores as quickly as possible. This made us begin to realize the fact that we were in some danger from the enemy, and some persons, thinking the Rebels were near, became very much frightened, though the report was a mistake.”

SALLIE MEYERS: “June 20, 1863 – Some cavalry from Philadelphia who armed and equipped themselves came to-night. They are entirely and altogether volunteers.”

SARAH BROADHEAD: “June 23, 1863 – As I expected, the Rebels have, several times, been within two or three miles, but they have not yet reached here. Two cavalry companies are here on scouting duty, but they can be of little use, as they have never seen service. Deserters come in every little while, who report the enemy near in large force.”

NELLIE AUGHINBAUGH (while learning a milliner’s trade at the home of Mrs. Martin): “June 26 – Mr. Martin excitedly rushed into the work room, exclaiming that the Rebels were coming. ‘They’re at Cashtown now. Send the girls home,’ he told his wife. Several of the girls stopped immediately and left. I was working on a bonnet that Mrs. Martin, who was very particular, had made me rip twice that day and start over again, and I said ‘I’m not going home until I finish this bonnet, not if the whole Rebel army comes to town.’

Once more, Mr. Martin came running in and, hurrying over to me, he grabbed my work from my hands and exclaimed, ‘Go home, girl! The Rebs are at the edge of town.’

I did. As I reached the center square, the Rebels were riding into it from the other direction with yells and cheers. I was frightened and ran all the way home. I had to cross the square and go down Carlisle Street. When I reached the house, Mother was standing in the doorway, ringing her hands.

‘My God, Child! Where have you been?’

Never in my life had I ever heard my Mother use the Lord’s name in that way, and I always told her that she frightened me more than the coming of the Rebels because I thought she had suddenly lost her mind.”

TILLIE PIERCE: “June 26 – What a horrible sight! There they were, human beings, clad almost in rags, covered with dust, riding wildly, pell-mell down the hill toward our home, shouting, yelling most unearthly, cursing, brandishing their revolvers, and firing right and left.”

SARAH BARRETT KING: “June 26 – My father was sitting by a window, busily engaged reading a daily paper, little dreaming the Rebels were so close by. I said to him, ‘Here they come.’ He asked, ‘Who?’ I answered, ‘The Rebs, don’t you hear the yell?’ And he looked out and saw them in pursuit of Captain Bell. He said, ‘Bring the children in and close the door.’ I said, ‘No, I want them to see all they can of this’ and remained on the porch of the house.”

SARAH BROADHEAD: “June 26 – We all stood in the doors while the cavalry passed, but when the infantry came, we closed them, for fear they would run into our houses and carry off everything we had, and went upstairs and looked out of the windows. They went along very orderly, only asking every now and then how many Yankee soldiers we had in town. I answered one that I did not know. He replied, ‘You are a funny woman; if I lived in town I would know that much.’”

ANNA GARLACH’s (speaking of her Grandmother): “Some of the (Rebels) asked her what she thought the Rebels were like (before they came to town), whether they had horns. And she replied she was frightened at first, but found them like our own men.”

SARAH BROADHEAD: “The Rebel band were playing Southern tunes in the Diamond (town square).”

HARRIET BAYLY: “June 29 - Looking west at night we could see camp fires along the mountain side eight miles distant, and it seemed as though the enemy was there in force.”

HARRIET BAYLY: “June 30 – The whole air seemed charge with conditions which go before a storm; everybody anxious, neighbor asking neighbor what was going to happen and what will we do if the worst should happen?”

MICHAEL JACOBS: “June 30 – (I) saw General John Buford’s Union cavalry division, including two brigades, riding into Gettysburg from the Taneytown Road, on the south. He flung one of his brigades directly north, along Washington Street; the other he dispatched to the west along the Chambersburg Road.”

TILLIE PIERCE: “June 30 - A crowd of us girls were standing on the corner of Washington and High Streets as the soldiers passed by. Desiring to encourage them who, as we were told, would before long be in battle, my sister started to sing the old war song ‘Our Union Forever.’ As some of us did not know the whole of the piece we kept repeating the chorus.”

SALLIE MEYERS: “June 30 - How they dashed by! Their horse’s feet seemed shod with lightning. Along the street we stood – all the girls and women of the town. We had prepared food in advance, and had baskets and trays in our hands. They came by, snatching in their hasty passage whatever they could lay their hands on – sandwiches, pieces of pie, cold meat, bread, cakes, cups of coffee, and bottles of water.

The eyes of the soldiers blazed, they smiled and some joined in the song. It was the last song many of those brave men ever heard, and the bite we gave was the last many ever ate.”

SARAH BARRETT KING: “July 1 – I heard two cavalrymen talking and one of them said, ‘Well the ball is about to open.’ "

SARAH BROADHEAD: “July 1 – I got up early this morning to get my baking done before any fighting would begin. I had just put my bread in the pans when the cannons began to fire, and true enough the battle had begun in earnest, about two miles out on the Chambersburg Pike. What to do or where to go, I did not know. People were running here and there, screaming that the town would be shelled.”

Many of you, I'm sure, have seen the movie 'Gettysburg,' but many more of you probably never gave a second thought to those folks who lived right there in the thick of it all. You can hear the fear as they wrote and told of their adventures. Again, something that the history books rarely, if ever, expound on.

I continue to search out these books written so long ago. They not only shed light on life once lived, but they truly flesh out the old sepia photographs and help one to realize that these were once living, breathing people like you and I. They had happiness, sadness. They laughed and felt sorrow.

It would do us good to emulate them as best we can, so we, as living historians, can give the patrons an even better, more accurate idea of what life was like in the past.

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History, Genes, and Reenacting pt 2

Way back at my very first blog, I wrote how I believed that an ancestor's memory genes could be passed on in the same way that looks or actions could be passed on.

This is what I wrote back in November of 2007:

Why is it that the past enthralls me so much? I have asked myself that question many times but I have no absolute answers. I don't believe in reincarnation, but I do believe in the passing of genes. Of course, we know that genes are passed on from parent to child. What I mean is, (correct me if I'm wrong) it's genes that make us act like, look, even sound the way we do, right? "You have your great grandfather's talent for carpentry," "you sing just like grandma," or "I can't believe how close you resemble your grandfather when he was your age." We've all heard something similar, right? Then why can't genes be passed on that enable us to have the same feelings as our ancestors? I mean, if my great great grandfather truly loved his life and his era, then can that passion be so strong that it can be passed down? Can memories (or snippets of memories) be passed down as well?

Well, I have spoken to numerous people since writing this and I have found quite a few who, although they may not necessarily agree with my philosophy, admitted it gave them food for thought.

And then I also found more than I thought that did agree with me on this subject.

I believe in what I wrote with all my heart, which is why I do not believe in reincarnation. Those moments one has when they step into a certain old house or into a museum and they get that feeling of familiarity is when the idea of reincarnation seems to be tossed about. Well, I don't believe that at all. In fact, the medical world, without realizing it, tends to back me in my own personal theory about the transfering of genes rather than backing the reincarnation theory.

The great classical composer, Amadeus Mozart, was (and still is) considered a child prodigy who wrote his first symphony at age eight. Reincarnation? Highly doubtful. More than likely it was a musical gene that was passed down to him from an ancestor of his, quite possibly from his own father, who was also a composer and musician.

My own son took to playing the guitar at the age of just about a year old - the videos we have of him are our proof - and, by the age of seven was already performing Beatles' songs. His first was "I Should Have Known Better" - once again, we have video proof.

Is my son a prodigy? Was he reincarnated from some past musician, maybe Jimi Hendrix?

Yeah, right.

You see, I play guitar and have played consistently around him since his birth, much in the same way Amadeus' father, I'm sure, performed instruments in front of his son. I began teaching my first born to play correctly at age seven and he took to it immediately. In the nearly 14 years since, he has become quite the accomplished musician and has taken on jazz and classical playing as well as rock and folk.

Now, there are old home movies of me as a youngster playing the guitar and the drums. A little family history research shows that my mother played the cello in the 1930's and my maternal grandmother and her sisters were child performers back in the 1910's and the early 1920's.

Genes being passed on.

So, back to my original question/thought/theory: can memory and feeling genes be passed on? Can a person of today walk into a historical place - even if it's one that neither they nor their ancestor had ever been in - and feel like, well, "this is right. This is the way it's supposed to be" or "I'm home"?

I get that feeling every single time I step inside nearly any historic structure, especially if it's from the late 18th and 19th centuries. I get that feeling every time I am near a horse with or without a carriage. I get that feeling when I re-enact.

And, I'm sure this would explain why I visit Greenfield Village a dozen times a year, along with my annual visits to Crossroads Village, old schoolhouses, and, yes, even my semi-annual journey to Gettysburg.

On our very first date, back in November of 1982, Patty (who would become my wife two and a half years later) and I, getting to know one another, spoke of our morals (both of us had very traditional "old-fashioned" morals), our interests - mine in history (and music) and she in traditional crafts like crocheting, knitting, and interests in quilting and spinning. We also spoke of the type of house we would like to eventually get (we agreed on either an old Victorian or a farmhouse). This on our very first date.

After 23 years of marriage we still have the same values, morals, and interests. Only now, due to re-enacting, we can "live" our dreams and passions, if only for a weekend at a time.

And due to our passion for antiques, we have tried to turn the inside of our 1944 bungalow into what I call a pseudo-Victorian. It will have to do until we can eventually get our dream home.

The thing is, all of this that my wife and I love - re-enacting, antiquing, old-time crafts, traditional morals - are all a part of these 'memory genes.
I think time will eventually show that I am correct in my assumptions.

The 2008 Re-enacting Season Thus Far and What Is Has Done For Me

Well, the re-enacting season is now in full force. So far, this year alone I have participated in 7 events - not including the period dress 12th Night/Christmas Party held in January.

And there's more to come: A mourning presentation in Waterloo, a living history encampment in Dearborn, a battle and living history encampment at Historic Fort Wayne as well as in Hastings, Jackson, and Wolcott Mill. Plus a couple of extra's that we enjoy, such as a "pioneer day" at a local school, a period ball in Lansing, a 21st Michigan full-dress meeting in early November, and a few re-enactments with the Michigan Soldiers Aid Society.

And it's still not enough.

At least, not for me.

I could do re-enacting pretty much every weekend if I had the chance (and the gas money!). I cannot wait to throw on my period clothing and step back in time at an event and be amongst others who have a love for this sort of thing. I especially love it when my wife and children also don their period clothing and join me (which is usually at most of the events that I attend). To have my family have the same passion for this hobby that I have is nothing short of a true blessing, and I do continuously thank God for that blessing.


I mean - think about it - there are not too many families out there that I know of that get together nearly every weekend - that WANT to spend their weekends together - like my family does. And, to top it off, my eldest son's girlfriend also willingly enjoys the opportunity to wear clothing that her great great great great grandmother would have worn. My wife and this young lady spend quite a bit of time together during the cold months of winter sewing period authentic clothing for themselves and for others. This picture directly below are three dresses that Patty and Ashley (left and center) made.

I guess the neatest thing is when my kids will fill their calendars with their own personal activities only after they know the dates of all the re-enactments.

Some people think we're crazy. Others feel we live in the past.
I think they're correct on both counts. We are crazy and, yes, to a certain extent, we do live in the past - how can you not when making the attempt to accurately portray one from the mid-19th century?
But, we are also very contemporary people as well. If we weren't, well, I guess you would not be reading this blog now, would you?
OK - now I'm going to go off on a tangent for a bit - reader, beware---------
This is not to say, by the way, that other families don't spend their times together. I know of a few that do - sports families (those that go to Red Wings and Tigers games together), activity families (biking, hiking), and of course, cottage familes, in which I used to be. But, because I have four other siblings who also have multiple children, well, we all kind of out-grew the weekend cottage trips. Oh, we still go up for the family visits a few times a year, just not as often as we used to. I guess we all just spend more time with our own families.

Back to reenacting: As this is my 5th year as a Civil War reenactor. I've also noticed a personal change in my attitude toward modern society. For example, Memorial Weekend was, to me, known as the weekend that summer began; the weekend to meet with friends that I haven't seen since the previous Labor Day; the weekend to open up the cottage and have a barbecue. Now, because of Civil War reenacting, it means so much more to me. I now find myself remembering those Americans who fought and died - not just in the Civil War, but in all of the wars that we, as a country, have been involved in, including this latest war on terror. Whether or not you agree with our involvement in this current war, you should still remember those men and women who have died serving their country. I do...now.

I have also become a bit more, shall we say, prudish. Yes, I find myself getting embarrassed when I see young women wearing the skimpy bathing suits at the beach. I mean, is it necessary to show all that skin? Yeah, you think I'm crazy I'm sure. Maybe you think I'm lying, either to myself or to you.
But I'm not.
By the way, I'm not embarrassed for myself when seeing these thonged bathers, but for the girls themselves who feel the need to show more than necessary. Sorry, but I'd rather see them in their hoop skirts where they look and act more like ladies. In fact, my son's girlfriend has mentioned more than once how she enjoys the way folks - especially men - treat her while in her period clothing. She has stated that she is treated "like a lady," and she enjoys that.

Now, when I have mentioned these opinions during conversations with non-reenactors, invariably it is brought to my attention that I must be a sexist that would love to see women as subserviants. Oh, and that I'd also probably want to bring back slavery for blacks. Nothing could be further from the truth. But, I do like to see women dressed as women and men dressed as men, and so does my wife.
But, I suppose, we'll leave that for a future blog.

Anyhow, Civil War reenacting has engulfed our lives in more ways than I believe we could have imagined. We look at life a little different...maybe a little slower...taking it all in. We have learned to be less (sometimes ever-so-slightly-less, but less nonetheless) materialistic.
And some of us (read: ME) have even learned to watch our language, especially around women (oops! There I go again, being sexist. Sorry!). Yeah, as funny as George Carlin was, swearing didn't make him funny. It was his take - his GENIUS - on modern society that made him funny. I don't need his seven words that can't be said on TV, radio, or written in the newspaper. He had better, more intelligent things to say.

Modern folks tend to think of the Victorian way of life as backwards. I believe differently, and the more reading and studying and living history I do - and the more true, die-hard living historians I meet - the more I feel that it is, in fact, a great way to live.
Ah - that's my take on what Civil War reenacting has done for me and my family.
And I thank God for it.

Aren't You Hot In All Those Clothes?

Hands down, the question we get asked the most at a re-enactment is, "Aren't you hot in all those clothes?"'

As living historians, we emulate our 19th century ancestors. And that means we wear the same clothing that they wore. As a male citizen/civilian, I wear a long-sleeve cotton shirt buttoned all the way up with a period correct tie, braces (suspenders), wool or cotton waistcoat (vest), wool sack coat, wool (and sometimes cotton) breeches (pants), cotton (and sometimes wool) socks, and leather brogans (shoes), ankle length cotton drawers (underpants), topped off with a wide-brimmed hat.

Underneath my wife's long-sleeve, high neck, cotton dress (which is just inches from the floor), she wears drawers, a chemise, a corset, underpetticoat, a cage crinoline, an over petticoat, cotton (and sometimes wool) stockings, and leather shoes. She also wears a brooch as a neck-closure, as well as a bonnet. And white cotton gloves if we are walking into "town."

Whether the temperature is 60 degrees or 95 degrees, this is what we wear at a re-enactment.

Are we hot underneath all these layers of clothing? You betcha!

Are we as hot as you are, in your shorts and short-sleeve shirts?

Nope!

Seriously.

Why is that? Because we are covered. Because we do not let the sun burn off our natural coolant: persperation. That's what happens when you let the hot summer sun hit your skin. Underneath all of that clothing, we are sweating, and it's the sweat that keeps us cooler. As I said, we are definitely hot on those hot, humid days. But not as hot as those of you who are nearly naked.

Here's a true story about what happened this passed Memorial Weekend at Greenfield Village:

I invited a few people that I know from where I work to come out to the Village to experience a Civil War re-enactment, and many did. One couple who took up my offer came on Memorial Monday, which happened to be an above 80 degree day. However, they ended up leaving early. Why? The woman, dressed in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt and no head covering, got sun-stroke. Now, how do you figure that? I mean, here we all are, dressed in layer upon layer of clothing, and this woman who, by the way, did make the "Aren't you hot in all those clothes?" comment, becomes ill due to the heat and sun, while those of us dressed for the 19th century are able to survive "in all those clothes."

Contrary to poplular belief, our 19th century ancestors knew more than we like to give them credit for. I think one of my next projects will be to find out and compare the rate of skin cancer deaths from 150 years ago to now.

My Favorite Scene from Cold Mountain

I am writing this blurb for no other reason than because. It has no bearing on anything except it's a favorite scene from a pretty good (but very sad) movie.

My absolute favorite scene from the movie, "Cold Mountain" is where Ada Monroe is in her house playing the piano while her minister father is out in their yard working on his sermon for the following Sunday. As Ada is playing music she notices that it has begun to rain - hard. She calls for her father to come in but, as she looks to find why he is not answering, she sees that he had slumped over while sitting in his chair, dead. His heart had given out. The rain shower becomes a down pour as Ada runs to him, calling his name to no avail.

Why is this dreary scene my favorite? Because it shows a distinct part of 19th century life that so many of us in the 21st century cannot comprehend: total helplessness. If we see someone who needs immediate attention, we have the ability to whip out our cell phones and call an ambulance or the police and, within a matter of minutes, help has arrived.
Not so during the Civil War era (and before). What could Ada do? No phones or electronic communication of any sort. She couldn't drag him into the house - I'm sure she wouldn't be strong enough to do that, especially on wet grass. So she had to leave her father - a man she loved and admired dearly - out in the soaking rain. (The movie doesn't show this but I am sure, if something like this had actually happened, it was what she would have had to do).
Can you imagine what went through Ada's mind - that total helpless feeling?

This brings the hardships and survival skills of the era to life under no uncertain terms. It's what we Civil War reenactors/living historians emulate, to a certain extent, and attempt to portray in our impressions.
But, after a reenactment, we can go to our very modern homes. Ada (or an actual person of the time) could not - this was her life - it was all she knew.

Well, anyhow, I just thought I'd pass around that thought, which came to me during my work day today. I'm always thinking something about social history it seems.

Fighting Depression in the Bleak Mid-Winter

This is a tough time of year for me. I enjoy the Christmas Season so much - especially this past one - and keep so busy during November and December that the January/February months are a major let down for me. January is especially a drag because what follows January? FEBRUARY!! Oh boy. At least March, with its lengthier daylight and slightly warmer temps follows February. At that point you know it's up hill. For now, though, as I look out my window and see the couple inches of freshly fallen snow, the downhill slope is mighty steep!
This year, however, I've been keeping busy with my passion - history (yes, I have passion for my wife, but that's a different kind of passion!). I received a great many history books for Christmas - The Illustrated 1776 * The Postal Age in 19th Century America * 1607: Jamestown and the New World * Tavern at the Ferry - and have just begun to intently study them.
I have also continued writing my time travel story with great fervor, going over what has already been written and expanding/improving on the descriptive aspect. Researching upcoming scenes by contacting historians and specialists in the particular area of need has been a learning experience as well. Great fun.
After a three month break, Civil War reenacting has re-entered the picture, and I have been working on my impression as a 19th century postmaster for future events. I have also been planning events as well, such as a presentation to our local historical society of life for soldier and civilian during the Civil War. Then there is the Civil War Roundtable in Lansing this coming weekend and our unit's annual meeting in early February.
And, also in February, our local historical society will also be presenting 19th century clothing historians, Bill and Glenna Jo Christen, for a presentation of period clothing.
Throughout the fall and continuing on into the winter I have continued to make the attempt to slowly turn my home into a pseudo Victorian home. Our Gathering Room is almost there, so now to begin on the rest of the house.
So, I have quite a bit on my plate, which is good as it's only mid-January. And it's this historical business that will keep me going until the warmth of spring returns.