Been out of commission for a while, so, upon logging on tonight, promised myself I would simply lurk rather than attempting to answer posts to me. Yet this particular ping cannot be ignored. The Civil War in general (and Gettysburg in particular) is my Achilles heel (and you knew that, didn’t you? :)
Gettysburg was the bloodiest battle ever fought on American soil – and the bloodiest battle in which Americans were ever involved. Even though the Gettysburg battlefield evokes less ‘stirrings’ in me than many other more pristine ones (the Wilderness and Spotsylvania Courthouse, for example) – because of the encroachment of the town of Gettysburg (replete with all of its tacky souvenir shops, restaurants, etc.) upon the actual battlefield – there are still spots on even that field that I believe will forever be a ‘home’ for the souls that perished there – hallowed spots where one can sense the presence of those whose bodies lie beneath the ground, but whose souls will forever 'speak' to those willing to listen. The crest of Little Round Top, Devil’s Den, and the cemetery are three such areas that somehow seem to 'speak' to people who visit there.
Joshua Chamberlain wrote the following (in a little-known book, ‘Blood and Fire’), after visiting Little Round Top many years after his regiment performed its unparalleled heroics there:
I sat there alone on the storied crest, till the sun went down as it did before over the misty hills, and the darkness crept up the slopes, till from all earthly sight I was buried as with those before. But oh, what radiant companionship rose around, what steadfast ranks of power, what bearing of heroic souls. Oh, the glory that beamed through those nights and days. Nobody will ever know it here! I am sorry most of all for that. The proud young valor that rose above the mortal, and then at last was mortal after all; the chivalry of the hand and heart that in other days and other lands would have sent their names ringing down in song and story!
Chamberlain was a rare and brilliant man, but how wrong he was in lamenting that subsequent generations would not remember or revere those men who performed their lofty, selfless deeds on those auspicious three days in that small Pennsylvania town. Granted, much of America has decided to abandon reverence for, and defense of, the truths/values that formed the foundations for this republic, and an awesome sense of indebtedness toward those who sacrificed to retain both. But there remain (and always will) many -- you and I included -- who will always cling tenaciously to their vision, and strive to keep their memories, and the eternal significance of their sacrifice, alive. Allowing the demise of the truths and liberties for which they stood will spell the demise of our republic. And the demise of our republic will not bode well for humankind.
I will be attending a community Fourth of July picnic later today, with my husband, son and daughter. A few of us who are involved in local government were asked to say a few words this afternoon after the meal and before the festivities begin. Rather than delivering a personal message, I plan to read an essay which describes what happened to the fifty-six signers of the Declaration of Independence (Each and every time I hear the essay it brings me to tears -- not because of the incredible sacrifices so many of them made in our behalf, but because the large majority of us are either unaware of, or completely unappreciative of, or apathetic toward, those sacrifices. Those courageous, visionary men left us such a valuable, hard-won inheritance, and, for the most part, we have squandered it -- and have done so with a cavalier attitude that almost borders on sacrilege). Hopefully, between to potato salad and the fireworks, some of us will take a little time to reflect on the fact that we can’t continue to squander our unique and hard-won historical inheritance, and expect to continue to receive His blessings.
Happy Fourth to you, Dan (John, Mike, Jeff, and all)!
~ joanie 