Rebekah Davis
I love Civil War history. But why do I like it? The other day, I started thinking about the reasons that led to this passion (or obsession, as some of my friends would say) for Civil War history, and by the time I finished thinking, I was surprised at the many memories of Civil War history that I’ve encountered, showing me how I became the person I am today.
First, my mind took me to Gettysburg, that significant battlefield in Pennsylvania. I first visited Gettysburg when I was one year old. I can’t believe that I remember a memory that took place many years ago, but how could I forget this memory? I was in a quiet room filled with many people. An electronic map enclosed this peaceful, surreal room. The room was serene until a child, sitting in a stroller, began throwing a tantrum. The people became upset since the peace had been disturbed, and the screaming child and her family were thrown out of the electronic map. I was the screaming child. Gettysburg was my first experience with a Civil War battlefield, but my passion for Civil War history grew throughout the years, despite my traumatic experience of being thrown out of the interactive map.
My love for Civil War history began in my basement when I was in elementary school. Every week my Dad, Mom, and I walked downstairs to the basement and played a board game called “Gettysburg.” Sitting on the brown carpet by Dad’s fire truck collection, we would challenge ourselves to “Gettysburg.” Moving my little gray Confederate soldier piece across the board gave me great excitement. I had correctly answered a Civil War trivia question. No, I didn’t know all the Civil War facts in elementary school, but my dad gave me the answers to all the questions. I felt smart as I advanced my game piece toward the end. I always wanted to take the credit for winning, but I couldn’t since my dad helped me with all the questions. You see, my dad played an influential role in instilling my love for Civil War history.
During those twenty minutes as I pondered my love for the Civil War, I thought of my dad’s many bookshelves filled with Civil War books. I remember as a little girl looking up in amazement at my dad’s books. Robert E. Lee, Ulysses S. Grant, Gettysburg, Antietam, and Stonewall Jackson were many of the topics of books that lined the five wooden shelves. During high school, I had to write a biography paper. As I pondered who I was going to write about, I pictured my dad’s bookshelves. I remembered seeing six books about Stonewall Jackson. He is the man I wrote about in my biography. Dad had enough Stonewall Jackson books to cover his childhood, military career, leadership, relationship with his wife, and his death. During my high school and part of my college years, I read a few of these books and my love for Civil War history increased. But one of the most influential events that shaped my passion for this history began on a trip to Gettysburg (many years after my traumatic childhood experience.)
My family (including my uncle, aunt, and cousins) and I had the memorable opportunity to attend a Civil War reenactment when I was in junior high. We sat in the stands on the Gettysburg battlefield. My family sat on the Gettysburg battlefield, sweating from the sticky July humidity, but ready to experience the reenactment (well, the reenactment of the actual battle.) The Confederate and Union troops were in formation on either side of the field and the Confederate soldier fired the first shot. Bearded men with scratchy wool uniforms began charging across the battlefield. I saw and heard cannon blasts, gunshots, men falling off their horses, and medics rushing to the wounded. Viewing one battle was good enough for me; the other two battles scheduled that day would be the same routine. I was ready to move on to more girly attractions. We girls went shopping and left the guys watching the battles. Little tents were set up all around the camp where women were selling items such as baskets, clothing, rifles, and bonnets. My Aunt Riki bought me a large straw bonnet tied with a mint green ribbon. I loved that bonnet, even though it was twice the size of my head.
After shopping, we toured the camp, visited the medical tent, and the different Civil War generals’ tents. I was so excited when I “met” General Lee. He was taller than I imagined and was a kind, gracious man. He even picked me up and set me up high on his black, shiny horse named Tiara.
My love for the Civil War continues today. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I am elated as I walk into my Civil War and Reconstruction class, another opportunity to learn more about this passion in me that will never die.
