By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
It’s hard to believe next year will be 10 years since our first trip to the Ozarks. We went in the spring of 2008, and we’re just beginning plans to return.
On that first trip, we were going to visit Natural Dam Falls. It is just past the town of Natural Dam, but as is often the case, I missed the turn. The original Delorme Gazetteer for Arkansas wasn’t very detailed. A lot of roads were shown without names and the maps were very compact. Since I had missed the road that would have taken us to the falls, we had to find a place to turn around.
Before we left on this trip, as we often do when going to a new state, we picked a few goal birds and animals. I had picked elk ( “A Kodak Moment” ), armadillo ( “I Think We're Being Followed” ), and Greater Roadrunner, and since I told Joann that Scissor-tailed Flycatchers were more common in Arkansas than Wisconsin, Joann picked that as her goal bird. Joann had already seen armadillos and roadrunners in Texas but on my only visit to Texas, since I was only on the coast, I hadn’t seen either of those.
The first place we found to turn around was a small dead-end road, and as Joann turned onto it, there was a flash of bird wings as a bird flew up from and back down onto the pasture fence a little ways down the road. We could see it had a long tail, and I grabbed my binoculars which always sit in the corner of the dash. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher from Joann’s goal list! She grabbed her binoculars, and we both sat in awe watching it for a while.
Then Joann quietly got out of the car to get her camera. The bird scared up, but returned to the fence, allowing Joann to get a couple of pictures of it.
And then we noticed a bonus from the universe. Out in the pasture with the cattle was a flock of Cattle Egrets. This bird can occasionally be seen in Wisconsin, but was less common in 2008 than it is today. This year, for instance, there are two flocks hanging around in Brown County, Wisconsin.
When you see one of these birds, you usually see more, and they are often seen around cattle, thus their name. Sometimes you even find them on the backs of the cattle eating insects off of them. Unlike other herons that you find around water, these are normally found in fields and dry areas stalking insects.
Once we had our fill of the birds, we got back in the car and drove back up the highway to the turn for Natural Dam. It was plainly marked with a sign on the highway, at least when driving north.
Natural Dam is exactly as its name implies; a natural dam that spans the entire width of Mountain Fork Creek. It isn’t very tall, but it is still impressive. Plus, it is extremely accessible, and can even be viewed from your car. It sits next to a National Forest picnic area.
It was late afternoon when we visited, so we just enjoyed the sight and the sound of the falls while Joann took her photographs.
Later in the trip, we even managed to see a Roadrunner. It was on our way into the mountains, so we figured the Greater Roadrunner would have to wait until another trip. But then, as we cruised down the road, one ran across the road. Joann quickly pulled over and jumped out. She managed to get one photo before it flew down into a pasture and ran off. (They can run 20 miles per hour, so one shot was good!)
If you ever happen to be in the Van Buren area of Arkansas, look up Natural Dam. It’s extremely easy to find and visit, and if you like nature, waterfalls are some of the most relaxing places to visit.
Be warned though, once the weather is warm, most easily accessible waterfalls will be filled with people swimming, wading, and sunbathing on the rocks.
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Showing posts with label Arkansas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arkansas. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
Sunday, July 9, 2017
American Pickers
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
In April, 2015, on the first day of a photography trip to northern Missouri, Ruth and I passed through the town of Savanna, Illinois. Our goal was to capture a few photos of the Pulford Opera House building without cars parked in front of it. This historic building was built in 1892 and housed Pulford’s Drug Store and Miller’s Clothing Store on the first floor and an attorney’s office and the telephone company offices on the second floor. Unfortunately, the opera house auditorium was never finished.
Today, it houses the Pulford Opera House Antique Mall, where Frank Fritz, co-star of the History Channel’s American Pickers show, has a booth called Frank Fritz Finds. High above the ground floor is an organ grinder monkey on a vintage high wheel bicycle.
It was mid-day when we arrived and it was raining lightly. As we came down Main Street, we were delighted to see that there were no vehicles parked in front of the opera house. I parked the car across the street and quickly grabbed my camera equipment and umbrella. Photographing in the rain while holding an umbrella over my equipment is difficult and time-consuming, so I said a quick prayer that I could get my photos taken before a vehicle parked in the middle of my scene.
The door that gets you to the antique mall is actually the door to the Hawg Dog Bar & Grill. There was a white van parked in front of the bar, so I kept making sure the back of the van didn’t get in any of my photos. But, as I worked, someone kept entering the left side of my scene, pushing a dolly into the bar. I figured it was some kind of delivery to the bar.
After successfully capturing the opera house block, I started walking back to the car. Suddenly it dawned on me that the white van belonged to Frank Fritz and it was he who was hauling things into the bar for his antiques booth. He came out one more time without the dolly and stopped to converse with someone he knew. I snapped a quick photo from down the street and then they went inside the building.
Thinking that Frank might be getting ready to leave, I quickly put my camera equipment back in the car and asked Ruth what I could take to get Frank’s autograph. Neither of us had a good idea, so I grabbed a small notebook and made a mad dash for the antique mall. I found Frank just inside the door, so I introduced myself and asked him if I could have his autograph. He kindly obliged.
Frank and I went back outside where he showed me that he still had quite a few things to unload from the back of his van. He said that he had just returned from driving thousands of miles to Texas and back, “picking” for antiques. According to his website, his interests are “old motorcycles, old toys, old cars, and anything that is old and unusual.”
If you watch the American Pickers show, you know that Frank often negotiates with sellers on vintage oil cans.
And Frank and his co-star and picking partner, Mike Wolfe, often purchase vintage gasoline and motor oil signs.
They also love old gas pumps.
In early September, 2015, a little over four months after I met Frank Fritz in Savanna, Illinois, I received a request from an archivist from the American Pickers Show. She said they were interested in using a photo I took on Route 66 of some 1924 Fry Guaranteed Measure “Mae West” visible gas pumps.
The episode was called “Can’t Catch a Break” and it aired on October 21, 2015. Unfortunately, my photo didn’t make the final cut. But I was pleased to get a credit at the end of the show.
Frank Fritz and Mike Wolfe say that they travel the backroads of America telling its history. So do we!
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
In April, 2015, on the first day of a photography trip to northern Missouri, Ruth and I passed through the town of Savanna, Illinois. Our goal was to capture a few photos of the Pulford Opera House building without cars parked in front of it. This historic building was built in 1892 and housed Pulford’s Drug Store and Miller’s Clothing Store on the first floor and an attorney’s office and the telephone company offices on the second floor. Unfortunately, the opera house auditorium was never finished.
Today, it houses the Pulford Opera House Antique Mall, where Frank Fritz, co-star of the History Channel’s American Pickers show, has a booth called Frank Fritz Finds. High above the ground floor is an organ grinder monkey on a vintage high wheel bicycle.
It was mid-day when we arrived and it was raining lightly. As we came down Main Street, we were delighted to see that there were no vehicles parked in front of the opera house. I parked the car across the street and quickly grabbed my camera equipment and umbrella. Photographing in the rain while holding an umbrella over my equipment is difficult and time-consuming, so I said a quick prayer that I could get my photos taken before a vehicle parked in the middle of my scene.
The door that gets you to the antique mall is actually the door to the Hawg Dog Bar & Grill. There was a white van parked in front of the bar, so I kept making sure the back of the van didn’t get in any of my photos. But, as I worked, someone kept entering the left side of my scene, pushing a dolly into the bar. I figured it was some kind of delivery to the bar.
After successfully capturing the opera house block, I started walking back to the car. Suddenly it dawned on me that the white van belonged to Frank Fritz and it was he who was hauling things into the bar for his antiques booth. He came out one more time without the dolly and stopped to converse with someone he knew. I snapped a quick photo from down the street and then they went inside the building.
Thinking that Frank might be getting ready to leave, I quickly put my camera equipment back in the car and asked Ruth what I could take to get Frank’s autograph. Neither of us had a good idea, so I grabbed a small notebook and made a mad dash for the antique mall. I found Frank just inside the door, so I introduced myself and asked him if I could have his autograph. He kindly obliged.
Frank and I went back outside where he showed me that he still had quite a few things to unload from the back of his van. He said that he had just returned from driving thousands of miles to Texas and back, “picking” for antiques. According to his website, his interests are “old motorcycles, old toys, old cars, and anything that is old and unusual.”
If you watch the American Pickers show, you know that Frank often negotiates with sellers on vintage oil cans.
And Frank and his co-star and picking partner, Mike Wolfe, often purchase vintage gasoline and motor oil signs.
They also love old gas pumps.
In early September, 2015, a little over four months after I met Frank Fritz in Savanna, Illinois, I received a request from an archivist from the American Pickers Show. She said they were interested in using a photo I took on Route 66 of some 1924 Fry Guaranteed Measure “Mae West” visible gas pumps.
The episode was called “Can’t Catch a Break” and it aired on October 21, 2015. Unfortunately, my photo didn’t make the final cut. But I was pleased to get a credit at the end of the show.
Frank Fritz and Mike Wolfe say that they travel the backroads of America telling its history. So do we!
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Saturday, May 13, 2017
The Old Porch
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
Sunday, May 14, is Mother’s Day and this story is dedicated to my mother, Dorothy Rose Barman Ringelstetter. Memories fade over time, so the storyteller in me might be embellishing things a bit, but it is mostly an accurate picture of how things were.
A well-worn path led from the driveway to the enclosed back porch of the old farmhouse on Elder Lane. The weathered wooden steps were often covered with dew in the early morning shade.
On one side of the porch steps, along the full length of the front of the house, was a colorful parade of flowers, each one opening up in its own time to the morning light. There were bright pink bleeding hearts, one of Mom’s favorites, usually blooming around Mother’s Day.
There were tulips of ivory, primrose, and crimson colors, waiting to be picked and admired in a bouquet of fresh flowers.
And delicate lilies of the valley surrounded all the other flowers and were a beautiful addition to a vase filled with spring flowers.
Shortly after the bleeding hearts and tulips had faded away, there were bright purple irises to brighten our days.
As spring gave way to summer, there were multi-colored gladiolas to enjoy.
On the other side of the steps, a white trellis leaned against the side of the porch. It was covered with periwinkle morning glories that had not yet acknowledged the dawn. A cool breeze often carried the sweet smell of the honeysuckle bush on that corner of the porch.
In the morning, after milking cows, feeding calves, and cleaning the barn, we would follow Dad into the old porch, eager to fill our hungry stomachs with a hearty breakfast. The heavy wooden screen door would slam behind us as we set down the galvanized milk pails full of fresh milk, slipped off our barn boots, and hung up our jackets.
In the mornings, the sun streamed into the east windows of the porch, flooding the wooden floorboards with warmth and splashing against the side of a dilapidated commode that stood just inside the door. The light oak veneer was peeling and faded from the southern exposure to the sun. The drawers were sticky and the handles were loose and mismatched. The top was covered with yellowed newspaper that was stuck to the commode in places. This ramshackle piece of furniture signaled the change in seasons as surely as did the change in the weather.
In the spring, plastic trays were crowded together on top of the newspaper, each one filled with seedlings that were bending toward the sunlight.
In the summer, it held boxes of fresh Georgia peaches, ripening in their crinkly pink tissues and waiting for the chance to drip down somebody’s chin. There were also tomatoes and pears ripening on the windowsills.
In the fall, a bushel basket or two of crisp Macintosh apples stood in the autumn sunlight, soon to be made into applesauce or apple crisp. And in the winter, hot pumpkin or apple pies warmed the top of the commode as they cooled in the chilly air.
Year ‘round, Mondays were wash days in the old porch. Luckily, the porch was pretty big because there were usually seven or eight piles of dirty clothes that had been separated by color and type. This was always the scene on wash day, when Mom started washing at the crack of dawn in order to get everything hung on the clothesline early enough to get dry before dusk.
Each pile would be washed in the wringer washing machine, pushed through the wringer to wring out the soapy water, rinsed by hand in the steel tub connected to the washing machine, tediously pushed through the wringer again (which had been swung from the washer to the steel rinsing tub) to wring out the rinse water, and then hung out to dry. I can still hear the sound of the wringer washing machine, wearily churning a load of heavy overalls.
And I can still remember how tired Mom looked sometimes, working on the farm and taking care of us and all of our needs. She worked from before sun-up until way past sun-down most days and she rarely complained. We owe a lot to her for all she did for us and for helping to shape us into the individuals we are today. This July, it will be 34 years since she left us. We know she is enjoying her rewards in heaven, but we still miss her very much.
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom, and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
Sunday, May 14, is Mother’s Day and this story is dedicated to my mother, Dorothy Rose Barman Ringelstetter. Memories fade over time, so the storyteller in me might be embellishing things a bit, but it is mostly an accurate picture of how things were.
A well-worn path led from the driveway to the enclosed back porch of the old farmhouse on Elder Lane. The weathered wooden steps were often covered with dew in the early morning shade.
On one side of the porch steps, along the full length of the front of the house, was a colorful parade of flowers, each one opening up in its own time to the morning light. There were bright pink bleeding hearts, one of Mom’s favorites, usually blooming around Mother’s Day.
There were tulips of ivory, primrose, and crimson colors, waiting to be picked and admired in a bouquet of fresh flowers.
And delicate lilies of the valley surrounded all the other flowers and were a beautiful addition to a vase filled with spring flowers.
Shortly after the bleeding hearts and tulips had faded away, there were bright purple irises to brighten our days.
As spring gave way to summer, there were multi-colored gladiolas to enjoy.
On the other side of the steps, a white trellis leaned against the side of the porch. It was covered with periwinkle morning glories that had not yet acknowledged the dawn. A cool breeze often carried the sweet smell of the honeysuckle bush on that corner of the porch.
In the morning, after milking cows, feeding calves, and cleaning the barn, we would follow Dad into the old porch, eager to fill our hungry stomachs with a hearty breakfast. The heavy wooden screen door would slam behind us as we set down the galvanized milk pails full of fresh milk, slipped off our barn boots, and hung up our jackets.
In the mornings, the sun streamed into the east windows of the porch, flooding the wooden floorboards with warmth and splashing against the side of a dilapidated commode that stood just inside the door. The light oak veneer was peeling and faded from the southern exposure to the sun. The drawers were sticky and the handles were loose and mismatched. The top was covered with yellowed newspaper that was stuck to the commode in places. This ramshackle piece of furniture signaled the change in seasons as surely as did the change in the weather.
In the spring, plastic trays were crowded together on top of the newspaper, each one filled with seedlings that were bending toward the sunlight.
In the summer, it held boxes of fresh Georgia peaches, ripening in their crinkly pink tissues and waiting for the chance to drip down somebody’s chin. There were also tomatoes and pears ripening on the windowsills.
In the fall, a bushel basket or two of crisp Macintosh apples stood in the autumn sunlight, soon to be made into applesauce or apple crisp. And in the winter, hot pumpkin or apple pies warmed the top of the commode as they cooled in the chilly air.
Year ‘round, Mondays were wash days in the old porch. Luckily, the porch was pretty big because there were usually seven or eight piles of dirty clothes that had been separated by color and type. This was always the scene on wash day, when Mom started washing at the crack of dawn in order to get everything hung on the clothesline early enough to get dry before dusk.
Each pile would be washed in the wringer washing machine, pushed through the wringer to wring out the soapy water, rinsed by hand in the steel tub connected to the washing machine, tediously pushed through the wringer again (which had been swung from the washer to the steel rinsing tub) to wring out the rinse water, and then hung out to dry. I can still hear the sound of the wringer washing machine, wearily churning a load of heavy overalls.
And I can still remember how tired Mom looked sometimes, working on the farm and taking care of us and all of our needs. She worked from before sun-up until way past sun-down most days and she rarely complained. We owe a lot to her for all she did for us and for helping to shape us into the individuals we are today. This July, it will be 34 years since she left us. We know she is enjoying her rewards in heaven, but we still miss her very much.
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom, and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
An Accidental Cotton Gin Find
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
Compared to today, the research I had for our 2008 trip to the Ozarks was severely lacking. There were a lot of reasons for this, but we wouldn’t take another trip like this without a lot more research. (In other words, I have a LOT to do!)
I am always interested in the various agricultural crops that are grown around the country. Growing up on a dairy farm, we knew about alfalfa, corn, and oats. Our crops were grown for cattle feed.
Now, traveling around Wisconsin we see wheat, soybeans, tobacco, and even cranberries, but when we travel to other states, we have the opportunity to see other crops.
For instance, I knew that cotton was grown in the south, but I didn’t have any cotton gin buildings marked when we took this first trip to Arkansas. It was just by chance that we stumbled on an old abandoned cotton gin. Joann took as many pictures as she could, but the trees and shrubs growing up around it made it hard to see very much of the building.
As Joann was processing the photos for this blog, she came across a photo by another photographer showing the gin buildings cleaned up. What a difference it makes! We can only hope the buildings will be maintained (and I can get research done for another trip!).
In 1900, there were 29,214 active cotton gins in the United States. This meant that most small towns in the cotton-growing areas had their own gin. Since cotton was so labor intensive, the gin ran all year long, and was often a gathering spot for cotton farmers. Modern gins run during ginning season only which is about 4 months long. Ginning season is between late summer and late fall, depending on harvest time for the area.
In 2000, Arkansas had around 1 million acres of cotton. By 2016, that number had fallen to around 330,000 acres. The number of modern gins in Arkansas went from 86 to just 26 in the past 15 years.
After our trip to Arkansas, we had this old gin building in our collection, but we didn’t find any cotton fields on that trip. Since we usually travel in the spring, which is planting season, we don’t see the finished crops. Our travel wish list contains many places to visit in the late summer/early fall period, but we haven’t managed to make any of those trips yet.
We did, however, find a few cotton plants at the edge of a field in North Carolina in 2010 when we were looking for newly planted tobacco fields. They were a couple of missed plants from the prior year’s harvest, but it did let us get a close-up look at the cotton plant.
I’m not sure if we’ll ever manage to visit a state when cotton is blooming or when it is ready to be harvested, but we sure would like to!
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Compared to today, the research I had for our 2008 trip to the Ozarks was severely lacking. There were a lot of reasons for this, but we wouldn’t take another trip like this without a lot more research. (In other words, I have a LOT to do!)
I am always interested in the various agricultural crops that are grown around the country. Growing up on a dairy farm, we knew about alfalfa, corn, and oats. Our crops were grown for cattle feed.
Now, traveling around Wisconsin we see wheat, soybeans, tobacco, and even cranberries, but when we travel to other states, we have the opportunity to see other crops.
For instance, I knew that cotton was grown in the south, but I didn’t have any cotton gin buildings marked when we took this first trip to Arkansas. It was just by chance that we stumbled on an old abandoned cotton gin. Joann took as many pictures as she could, but the trees and shrubs growing up around it made it hard to see very much of the building.
As Joann was processing the photos for this blog, she came across a photo by another photographer showing the gin buildings cleaned up. What a difference it makes! We can only hope the buildings will be maintained (and I can get research done for another trip!).
In 1900, there were 29,214 active cotton gins in the United States. This meant that most small towns in the cotton-growing areas had their own gin. Since cotton was so labor intensive, the gin ran all year long, and was often a gathering spot for cotton farmers. Modern gins run during ginning season only which is about 4 months long. Ginning season is between late summer and late fall, depending on harvest time for the area.
In 2000, Arkansas had around 1 million acres of cotton. By 2016, that number had fallen to around 330,000 acres. The number of modern gins in Arkansas went from 86 to just 26 in the past 15 years.
After our trip to Arkansas, we had this old gin building in our collection, but we didn’t find any cotton fields on that trip. Since we usually travel in the spring, which is planting season, we don’t see the finished crops. Our travel wish list contains many places to visit in the late summer/early fall period, but we haven’t managed to make any of those trips yet.
We did, however, find a few cotton plants at the edge of a field in North Carolina in 2010 when we were looking for newly planted tobacco fields. They were a couple of missed plants from the prior year’s harvest, but it did let us get a close-up look at the cotton plant.
I’m not sure if we’ll ever manage to visit a state when cotton is blooming or when it is ready to be harvested, but we sure would like to!
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Monday, November 9, 2015
Honoring America’s Civil War Veterans
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
This year marked the 150th anniversary of the end of the Civil War, which began on April 12, 1861 when Confederate troops opened fire on Union-held Fort Sumter in South Carolina and officially ended on April 9, 1865 when Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse in Virginia. However, it took weeks before word of this surrender was received across the country, so the last battle took place on May 13, 1865 at Palmito Ranch in Texas.
There are many causes for the Civil War. While the Northern regions became more and more industrialized, the Southern regions remained primarily agricultural. This caused different political beliefs and social cultures to develop, leading to disagreements about taxes, tariffs, and states’ rights.
The most divisive issue, however, appears to have been the dispute over whether the national government had the power to prohibit slavery in territories that were not yet states. When Abraham Lincoln pledged to prevent slavery from being established in the territories, seven deep South states seceded, forming a new nation called the Confederate States of America.
When the war started, the combined population of the Northern states was about 22 million, while the combined population of the Southern states was about 9 million. Thus, there were roughly twice as many Union soldiers as Confederate soldiers. The average age of the Union soldiers was about 25 and the average age of the Confederate soldiers is unknown, but towards the end of the war, young boys and old men were being pressed into service.
As battles were waged across the nation, families found themselves in the middle of battlefields, often seeking safety in their cellars when the fighting closed in on their homes.
In Arkansas, during the Battle of Prairie Grove in December, 1862, the conflict developed so quickly that families living near the battlefield had no time to flee. So they took shelter in cellars like this one, which has been preserved at Prairie Grove Battlefield State Park. Although this battle ended in one day, there were about 2,700 total Union and Confederate casualties.
Other families were forced to give up their homes to serve as field hospitals or battle headquarters. During the spring of 1865, in the final days of the Civil War, the North Carolina farmhouse of the John and Amy Harper family was taken over by Union soldiers on the first day of the Battle of Bentonville.
The downstairs rooms were converted into a field hospital and the Harpers were told they could either stay upstairs or leave their home altogether. At first, they chose to stay upstairs, but later they helped nurse wounded soldiers from both sides of the war.
Prior to their home being taken over by the Union Army, the war had already touched the Harper family. In September of 1862, their 16-year-old son Martin, who had joined the Confederate Army, was wounded in Maryland.
The Battle of Bentonville involved roughly 80,000 men (60,000 Union troops and 20,000 Confederate troops). When the intense three-day battle was over, more than 1,500 Union soldiers and 2,600 Confederate soldiers were dead, wounded, or missing. The makeshift hospital at the Harper House treated over 500 wounded soldiers, including 45 Confederates.
It is estimated that during the four years’ duration of the Civil War, there were 1.5 million Union soldiers and 1.2 million Confederate soldiers. And records reveal that at least 600,000 were killed in action or died of disease. The field of medicine was not very advanced at this time and modern antiseptics, which could have reduced disease and the spread of bacteria, did not exist. This resulted in more soldiers dying of disease than being killed in action.
Very often, after battles ended, soldiers were buried on the battlefield where they fought and died. If they died in field hospitals, such as the Harper House, they were buried near the hospital. At the Bentonville Civil War Battlefield in North Carolina, close to the Harper House, there is a Confederate Monument marking the mass grave of approximately 360 Confederates who died in the Battle of Bentonville.
Sometimes, the bodies of soldiers were later exhumed and moved to National or Confederate cemeteries. However, due to the sheer number of dead soldiers and the effort involved in moving their remains, undoubtedly thousands of Civil War soldiers are still buried in unknown battlefield graves.
A year after the Civil War ended, a medical doctor from Springfield, Illinois, and a small group of friends formed a plan for a fraternal organization of Union veterans for the benefit of its members and for their widows and orphans. On April 6, 1866, the first post of the Grand Army of the Republic was established in Decatur, Illinois. This organization played a major part in the establishment of the Memorial Day holiday. More importantly, they lobbied to secure pensions for Union veterans.
In the South, there were many local veterans associations, which became a part of the United Confederate Veterans association formed in New Orleans, Louisiana on June 10, 1889.
There are those who feel strongly that Confederate flags should not be flown and that monuments dedicated to Confederate soldiers should be destroyed. Others feel that all soldiers serve out of a great sense of duty to their country and they should be honored.
The inscription on the Confederate monument below sums this up beautifully: “Here, off duty till the last reveille, rest the Southern soldiers, few in number, who were slain in this and in the adjoining counties, during the war of secession. They fell among strangers, unknown, unfriended, yet not unhonored; for strangers hands have gathered their ashes here and placed this shaft above them, that constancy, valor, sacrifice of self, though displayed in fruitless enterprise, may not be unremembered.”
Wednesday, November 11, is Veterans Day. Please take a moment to honor all the veterans who have served our country, especially those who bravely fought and died.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
This year marked the 150th anniversary of the end of the Civil War, which began on April 12, 1861 when Confederate troops opened fire on Union-held Fort Sumter in South Carolina and officially ended on April 9, 1865 when Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse in Virginia. However, it took weeks before word of this surrender was received across the country, so the last battle took place on May 13, 1865 at Palmito Ranch in Texas.
There are many causes for the Civil War. While the Northern regions became more and more industrialized, the Southern regions remained primarily agricultural. This caused different political beliefs and social cultures to develop, leading to disagreements about taxes, tariffs, and states’ rights.
The most divisive issue, however, appears to have been the dispute over whether the national government had the power to prohibit slavery in territories that were not yet states. When Abraham Lincoln pledged to prevent slavery from being established in the territories, seven deep South states seceded, forming a new nation called the Confederate States of America.
When the war started, the combined population of the Northern states was about 22 million, while the combined population of the Southern states was about 9 million. Thus, there were roughly twice as many Union soldiers as Confederate soldiers. The average age of the Union soldiers was about 25 and the average age of the Confederate soldiers is unknown, but towards the end of the war, young boys and old men were being pressed into service.
As battles were waged across the nation, families found themselves in the middle of battlefields, often seeking safety in their cellars when the fighting closed in on their homes.
In Arkansas, during the Battle of Prairie Grove in December, 1862, the conflict developed so quickly that families living near the battlefield had no time to flee. So they took shelter in cellars like this one, which has been preserved at Prairie Grove Battlefield State Park. Although this battle ended in one day, there were about 2,700 total Union and Confederate casualties.
Other families were forced to give up their homes to serve as field hospitals or battle headquarters. During the spring of 1865, in the final days of the Civil War, the North Carolina farmhouse of the John and Amy Harper family was taken over by Union soldiers on the first day of the Battle of Bentonville.
The downstairs rooms were converted into a field hospital and the Harpers were told they could either stay upstairs or leave their home altogether. At first, they chose to stay upstairs, but later they helped nurse wounded soldiers from both sides of the war.
Prior to their home being taken over by the Union Army, the war had already touched the Harper family. In September of 1862, their 16-year-old son Martin, who had joined the Confederate Army, was wounded in Maryland.
The Battle of Bentonville involved roughly 80,000 men (60,000 Union troops and 20,000 Confederate troops). When the intense three-day battle was over, more than 1,500 Union soldiers and 2,600 Confederate soldiers were dead, wounded, or missing. The makeshift hospital at the Harper House treated over 500 wounded soldiers, including 45 Confederates.
It is estimated that during the four years’ duration of the Civil War, there were 1.5 million Union soldiers and 1.2 million Confederate soldiers. And records reveal that at least 600,000 were killed in action or died of disease. The field of medicine was not very advanced at this time and modern antiseptics, which could have reduced disease and the spread of bacteria, did not exist. This resulted in more soldiers dying of disease than being killed in action.
Very often, after battles ended, soldiers were buried on the battlefield where they fought and died. If they died in field hospitals, such as the Harper House, they were buried near the hospital. At the Bentonville Civil War Battlefield in North Carolina, close to the Harper House, there is a Confederate Monument marking the mass grave of approximately 360 Confederates who died in the Battle of Bentonville.
Sometimes, the bodies of soldiers were later exhumed and moved to National or Confederate cemeteries. However, due to the sheer number of dead soldiers and the effort involved in moving their remains, undoubtedly thousands of Civil War soldiers are still buried in unknown battlefield graves.
A year after the Civil War ended, a medical doctor from Springfield, Illinois, and a small group of friends formed a plan for a fraternal organization of Union veterans for the benefit of its members and for their widows and orphans. On April 6, 1866, the first post of the Grand Army of the Republic was established in Decatur, Illinois. This organization played a major part in the establishment of the Memorial Day holiday. More importantly, they lobbied to secure pensions for Union veterans.
In the South, there were many local veterans associations, which became a part of the United Confederate Veterans association formed in New Orleans, Louisiana on June 10, 1889.
There are those who feel strongly that Confederate flags should not be flown and that monuments dedicated to Confederate soldiers should be destroyed. Others feel that all soldiers serve out of a great sense of duty to their country and they should be honored.
The inscription on the Confederate monument below sums this up beautifully: “Here, off duty till the last reveille, rest the Southern soldiers, few in number, who were slain in this and in the adjoining counties, during the war of secession. They fell among strangers, unknown, unfriended, yet not unhonored; for strangers hands have gathered their ashes here and placed this shaft above them, that constancy, valor, sacrifice of self, though displayed in fruitless enterprise, may not be unremembered.”
Wednesday, November 11, is Veterans Day. Please take a moment to honor all the veterans who have served our country, especially those who bravely fought and died.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
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