Civil War Reenactment

civil war

The year was 1863. Our nation was at war, for the first time, with itself. Brothers were fighting brothers.

Can you picture it? Now, see it for yourself.

The Northwest Civil War Council is putting on its second public reenactment event of the season at Willamette Mission State Park in Keiser, outside of Salem. This group has been around for 25 years, simulating battles complete with cannons and gunfire, all in an effort to teach kids and adults what life was really like during the Civil War.

“The Civil War made America what it is today. It was Americans killing Americans and it hasn’t happened before or since,” Scott Ingalls, the Chairman of the Northwest Civil War Council, told me when I visited their event at Cheadle Lake Park in Lebanon this past May. At that event, the council hosted 1,500 school kids from around Oregon.

The council is recognized by the National Trust for Historic Preservation as authentic living historians. Kids, especially, find this period of American life interesting when it’s put on display in front of them. “We work very hard at accuracy, in the camps, in what we’re wearing, in what we’re saying,” Scott says. “Kids want to know how we’re surviving out here. Are we spending the night? Are we really going to eat that? We’re in public persona, 24-hours-a-day from when the event starts. There’s no iPods, iPads, microwaves, nothing. We’re period correct.”

As much as I’ve always been fascinated with the Civil War, and as much as I paid attention in school, I learned a few things myself from these reenactors. One lesson came at a tent with a large wooden coffin sitting out front. If that’s not a conversation piece, I don’t know what is. When I inquired about it to the man inside the tent, he promptly handed me a business card that read: “Oscar B. Hult, Embalming Surgeon”. He quickly explained, in character of course, that he made a living by following the regiment, offering his services to soldiers in case they died on or off the battlefield. For $13, roughly one month’s pay, a soldier could arrange to have his body embalmed so he could be shipped back home to his family. “The railroad refuses to ship anyone who’s not embalmed because of the stench,” Oscar explained. I guess it makes sense when you think about it.

The more I roamed through the camps and met the players—people from all over Oregon and even Washington—I quickly began to appreciate why they do this. They travel the northwest, lugging their props, equipment, artillery and animals with them because they love it—all of it; the history, the interaction with the public, and the displays that really put history on a tangible level for those who come to see it.

Take Linda Kalayjian, for example. I met her as she was tending her campsite, starting a fire to make coffee. Also in character, she explained that it was a lot of hard work. “You’re focusing on your daily activities. So, that’s water, firewood, having hot coffee for the gentlemen. Always staying busy.” Linda has been a reenactor for 20 years and it was at a reenactment at Dorris Ranch in Springfield that she met her husband. They’ve been married for six years now.

For Linda and all the other men, women and families that participate, these events are a way to love history and pay homage to it at the same time. To remember a war that divided a nation, and then eventually brought it back together, stronger and unified.

The Northwest Civil War Council extends an open invitation for you to come see it for yourself. More than 1,000 reenactors are expected to pitch their tents for 4 days at Willamette Mission State Park starting this Saturday, June 30. There will be battles twice a day at 11:00am and 3:00pm. For more information, check out www.nwcwc.org.

Kelli Warner

Thanksgiving Reunion with returning Afghanistan Soldier – A Mother’s Prayer Revisited

Previously I told you about my son’s friend who was injured in Afghanistan. His name is Chris. It happened in August. A rocket hit his bunker and he was bombarded by shrapnel. Hee came home to Oregon for Thanksgiving, a mother’s prayer answered, a family’s hopes fulfilled. We were invited to dinner on Saturday. Our son was here visiting, too, another mother’s prayer, another prayer of thanks.

As we knocked on the door, we were filled with anticipation, not knowing what to expect. We weren’t sure if we should hug him—we didn’t want to hurt him! Then the door opened and there was Chris, smiling and, yes, he hugged us, carefully and oh, so wonderfully! This tall, strapping, left-handed soldier, his left shoulder torn and shattered, imbedded with pieces of shrapnel, had a spirit that buoyed us all—his smile, his eyes, his joy at being home with his family and friends.

He had been taken to Germany for his initial surgeries and stabilization. Word has it that he asked one of the nurses for a beer and she wouldn’t give him one. Being a nurse myself and knowing that Chris has a great sense of humor, I brought him a bottle of Newcastle (I had inside information that it was his favorite beer). As he and my son clinked bottles in a reunion toast at the kitchen counter amidst the aroma of turkey and trimmings, I noticed that Chris was using his left arm to drink his beer. While his shoulder is impaired, his elbow bent just enough for the bottle to reach his mouth. I commented what great physical therapy it was for his shoulder! His laugh was a delight.

It was a Thanksgiving reunion I will forever remember, a tapestry in time, a moment not “frozen in time” but held by its warmth of spirit and family for all time in our hearts. The words in my long ago written “Mother’s Prayer” were for Chris and for every mother’s and father’s child who is hurting. During the weeks following Chris’ injury, we shared in his “. . . pain and tears,” and while he still has a long road of rehabilitation ahead of him, on that Saturday after Thanksgiving “. . . his smile and his joy. . .” were ours again. I hope you all had a warm and forever kind of Thanksgiving, too.

Olivia C. Rossi, RN, MSN, ACSM
Your Personal Trainer

A Mother’s Prayer

By Olivia Rossi
RN, MSN, ACSM
Your Personal Trainer

When they’re little you can hug them and kiss it better. The childhood tragedies, the beloved pets who die, moving away from friends, the tears . . . but what do you do when they are twenty-five or thirty and far away and hurting? What can you do for your child? How do you make the pain go away?

Being a parent never changes the pain you feel when your children are hurting, no matter how old they are, no matter whether that pain is physical or emotional. Many years ago I wrote this poem for a friend of ours. Her son was in pre-school with our son. His little brother got burned and his parents were hurting right along with him.

Last month, another friend of our son’s was badly injured in Afghanistan by an incoming attack while he was in his bunk. He had twelve pieces of shrapnel removed. His parents are hurting, our son is hurting and we are hurting. The words I wrote when our son was a little boy haven’t changed.

A Mother’s Prayer
Child of my flesh
It was of love that you were born
And through love that you now grow
and laugh and feel.
We’ve shared yesterdays
of smiles and joy, but
Today I share your pain and tears,
pain also born of love, for
without love there is no pain.
Today my heart breaks for you,
aches for you, my son,
Because your pain is mine, but
My heart leaps for tomorrow
when your smile and
your joy will be mine
again, too,
And my love will be deeper
for the pain
and the joy.

By Olivia Rossi, RN, MSN, ACSM
Your Personal Trainer