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Intro

Mississippi, April '04

Nonfiction

I and a witch that Satan had sent to destroy me  (or so I was told by a mystery fellow trail hiker)  were shot at by one or more Civil War ghosts while touring the Brice's Crossroads battle field.  It's true.  And it was her idea to go there in the first place!

Here is the true story ...

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Prelude

“Soon that joy was chas'd,

And by new dread succeeded,  when in view

A lion came, 'gainst me,  as it appear'd

With his head held aloft and hunger–mad,

That e'en the air was  fear–struck  …

That of the height all hope I lost ...”

(excerpt from Dante Alighieri's 13th century bestseller  “The Inferno” published just before the plague)

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Don't Let That Witch!

RV park on the Natchez Trace,  Mississippi,  April, 2004

The newly arrived fellow,  standing on the opposite side of the camp site's picnic table,  and realizing now that there was nobody else within earshot,  suddenly looked straight at me and very sternly quipped ...

“Don't let that witch that  SATAN  has sent to you destroy you!”

Without delay,  and without being the least bit caught off guard by his remark,  I replied  -

“Don't you know how many of  THESE  have been sent?  Too many too count ...”

He immediately threw me a quick look of  'of course of course I'm sure'.  He now understood.  This was just par for the course.

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Does That Come With a Buffet?

same RV park, next morning

“So when you picked me up hitch hiking the  Natchez Trace  I thought your advice about wool socks was the end of it,"  I said.   “But since then we've found an  RV campsite right on the trail and we've visited an open air  'cotton'  museum.  The old fashioned kind.  Even had a sample  'plant'  that you could bloody your fingers on.  Just like in the old days.  Just to put you in the mood.”

My accomplice was a seasoned trail hiker who had hiked thru time zones.  Now retired,  she was free to explore.  And her van had everything you'd need.

“I was going to bike down to it alone”,  she said,  “but then you would have missed it.  That horse buggy from the 1820's was remarkably eerie didn't you think?”

Eerie?  More like haunted!  Supposedly,  if you believed the sign,  it was Jackson's personal transport to the capitol after his election.  He traveled alone  –  wife died from the campaign.  Politics must have once been very bitter;  the buggy was still seething!

And it even had a vampire's black cape …

“Let's go to breakfast"  she said.  “I don't feel like camp cooking and I know of a back roads gas station nearby that has an  'all you can eat breakfast buffet'  sign right out front.  Just put all your gear in your tent and zip it up and let's go.”

What could go wrong?

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You Want to Go Where?

The breakfast was great.  And the brochure  –  just seemed to  'appear'.

“Look at this"  she said.  “There's a National Park battlefield nearby. I want to go.”

“Sounds urgent,"  I said.

“It is.  How did you know?” 

“Let’s just say the guy at the camp site warned me”  I sarcastically quipped.  I remembered my admonition.  And she wasn't the least bit surprised.

“Let's just say I'm looking for something,”  she quipped back.

“Me too,"  I said,  “but it's all in some fort in Kentucky.”

“C'mon,”  she said,  “it'll be fun!”

Unfortunately she was stuffing a gravy biscuit into her mouth while she was saying this and this prevented me from psychically reading her brain waves and figuring out what it was that would be so important to  –  well  –  to one of  'those'!

We finished breakfast and headed out and in a few minutes we pulled into a complete strangers driveway to see if the owners could give us directions. After knocking of course.

“Hey where's this Brice's Crossroads battlefield we keep hearing about?  According to our reckoning  -  and this brochure's instructions  –  we should be standing right in the middle of it right now.”

And then the obvious -

“You see, we're  NOT  from around here.”

He was startled.  Not by us but by our question.  Or perhaps just her.  I'm not really sure.

“No”,  he finally said,  “this isn't it of course.  But you're close”.

He then paused for a moment just to stare at us in some sort of disbelief.  Apparently we were being really dumb about something and only he knew what it was.

“So you really want to go there?"  he finally said.  “I mean it is a rainy morning.  And an April rain at that.”

“It's OK,"  we confidently said,  “we don't care about the rain”.

“Ohhhh Keh then,"  he wryly responded,  and then told us where to go.

We thanked him,  walked back out to the car,  and drove off.  We both now somehow knew that we were probably screwed.  But we kept it to ourselves.

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Steamy Affairs

a.k.a.  the entire 2 year long Vicksburg Campaign in 100 words or less

Battle of Brice's Crossroads

June 10, 1864

When the ground in June in Mississippi suddenly decides to become one big steamy  sordid theological disaster -  it happens.

But this is actually a good thing.  Because then when two groups of individuals endeavor to clash in this infernal mess and the clash involves a great deal of physical exertion inevitably one of the two groups will  'wilt'  soon on and this necessitates a quick retreat on their part which,  happily,  prevents a long drawn out mutual and bloody slaughter.  And a costly one at that.

So stop complaining!

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We Have To Go!

Back to April, 2004, Brice's Crossroads National Park

Let's get right down to it shall we . . .

We pulled into a small battlefield parking area.  Mid morning.  And it was drizzly.  April drizzly.  And gray.  And there was not another soul in sight  –  just the two of us.

Before us was an open field.  A  BIG  BIG  open field.  Along it ran a walking path to the left.  I took the path.  She took off in a completely different direction.  But to where I do not know!

Glass covered displays were distributed all along the path.  I guess so that you would now  'know'  stuff.  One of them had General Forrest's photo right inside of it.

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A quick aside  ....

Nathan Bedford Forrest  &  Robert E. Lee

Back around 2010,  by the way, this fellow Forrest  -  his  'soul'  I guess  -  suddenly just  'appeared'  in front of me one morning as I was rounding the end of Bolt Rd while walking to the local library.  He was decidedly brief.  And highly enthusiastic!  And all the while saluting!  Do you want to know what he said?  Good, hey you got the billion bucks?

And this wasn't the first time that someone from that era had done this.  So had another  –  back in 2007  –  while I was sitting in front of a computer in a relative's condo in Loudonville, NY.   General Lee!   But he didn't say anything to me  –  only to the Divine assistant who had brought him there.  I heard him say to her in a hushed reverential voice  “Oh is that really him?”  And then I heard her tell him that I was in the process of doing internet research so that I could write a book about  “The North Anna River Standoff”.  And then I heard him say …

But anyway,  now back to the glass display ....

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So I looked.  Downward.  Quizzically.  And with a strange inner sense.  But not for long.  Because then suddenly …

BANG!

The crackle of a  RIFLE  SHOT  rang out.  A single shot.  It came from the copse of trees on the far right end of the field.  Where,  interestingly enough,  not a single person stood!  It then went the entire length of the field.  From right to left.  You could just tell.  Because it left a trail of echoes.  Just like those aircraft that create sonic booms.  Except that this was just a bullet.

I guess it was just the weather.  But it wasn't just the weather.  It was the desired effect...  of whoever shot it.

I scrambled.

When I got back to the van she was conveniently right by it's side.  And looking mischievous.  I very urgently said  -

“We have to go!”

She did not ask why.  Betrayed not a hint of surprise.  Just got in and drove.

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That Guy Was Smart

“Well,"   I said finally as we were driving off,  “you hear that shot?  That guy was right!”

She remained silent.  Her tongue somewhere in her cheek.

“So did you find what you were looking for?”   I asked?

“Yes!”  she said!

“So where is it?”  I sarcastically asked.  She remained silent again.

“Hey!”  I somewhat angrily said,  while she was already looking askance,  purposefully hiding her expression.

I needed no further inquiry.  My suspicions were confirmed.

I  WAS  PLAYED!

THE  UNSUSPECTING  DECOY!

That picnic table guy was smart!