a historical glimpse...

You are strolling through the park; there is a man in a Union officer uniform, hat on his head, gun in his hand, and dirt on his face. He looks toward you, in a brisk walk heads in your direaction, and in a loud hardy voice exclaims, “Ulysses Grant said to me the other day, when we were headed off to Vicksburg, to fight with all my mustered strength for Union victory. Ayyyyy for victory, I will fight to the bitter end”. With a final gruff motion, he waves his gun wildly in the air and shoots off with a resounding b-a-n-g. Let me pause here to ease some fears. This soldier is not talking to the dead nor is he off his rocker, he is participating in a historical Civil War reenactment. Next to him bent over a needle and cloth, a woman dressed in calico petticoats with a shawl and bonnet chimes in, with a meek and quivery voice saying, “since my husband and older sons are off fighting, I try to make extra money on the side by mending clothes”.

The best part about historical reenactments is how the people, decked out in their time period garbs, really get into their roles. It is great to see such enthusiasm and it is a unique way to learn history. But these people, despite which some may believe, take of their layered costumes, wash their face, put their guns, needles, and props away, hop in their Toyotas, and go home after the affair is over.

Well, during a very short vacation we visited a mission. And there, ran into some reenactment people which were a little bit different from the more “normal” type mentioned above. I recognize now, in looking back, that I should have noticed something was up when, from a distance, they were all carrying on and acting “historical” when there was no crowd around to observe. But all I observed at that moment was a friendly sandy brown mule which I patted gingerly on the back, crudely constructed hay beds with old blankets laid out under the trees, a wonderful smelling camp fire, a man hauling in logs from somewhere on the mountain side, and a group of people gathered around the fire with tin cups. Yes, I thought, enthusiastic-historical actors awaiting the crowds. Here I come!

Well, was I in for a surprise. Yes, these were very knowledgeable people who knew a lot about history. One large man in a long pink calico shirt and leather pants was explaining facts to us. However, trying to recall what he had said at the moment is quite difficult because at the time I was not really focused on his words. When he turned to the side to reiterate a point he made there was the sudden realization that he was not wearing pants at all. His shirt was pretty long but it appeared that he was wearing chaps and chaps alone. “No way” I thought, “What’s wrong with this man”. He continued to talk, obviously unphased by any expression of surprise or shock on my face, about whatever he was talking about.

There was another man who gave a demo about fire. As he was talking he shifted to a squat near the ground for the demo. It was then that I found that he too didn’t have any pants on either. I started looking around the camp and realized that the essential item was missing on most of the individuals as they wore psudo-pant like chaps.

M at this time was clueless. While I eagerly moved away from the large man in the pink calico shirt, on toward my next shock at the fire demo, she was still listening to him and focusing on the unique arrowheads and guns lying on the ground. “Let me show you something” he told her and caught up with ardent zeal and enthusiasm on the subject, eagerly made his way down to grab one of the specimens. It was then that M’s realization came. “How vulgar, how blatantly offensively crude” she thought. “Show me something!?” A Tarzan like breechcloth was not what she was wanting to see. Another man yelled out in the background reminding the eager demonstrator of his lack of appeal (oops a literal typo that made me laugh...I mean apparel).

So, as we did, you may be wondering "Who were those people?". Well, after some inquiring, we found out that we encountered the“mountaineers” who through dress, demos, and living attempt to portray the historical accuracy of the mountain people. Let's just say they were not seasonal historical demonstrators like the Union officer mentioned above, they were more like continual demonstrators.

Historically speaking, they were pretty accurate overall; however, there was one point where they seemed to be in error. Somehow through all the history books and accounts read, I’ve took it on myself to assume that mountain men had sturdy clothing. They had to ride their horses, keep clear of bug bites, and have protection from stuff like poison ivy and poison oak…I don’t think a breechcloth would serve such purposes.

Don’t get me wrong I don’t regret the demos, there was a lot to learn about history.

The only thing I really do regret however, was patting that friendly mule on the back in the very beginning.