#Gettysburg National Battlefield

[rabbitcruiser]

The Second Day of the Battle of Gettysburg was on July 2, 1863.  

[emperornorton47]

[sabistarphotos]

May 30, 2022

Gettysburg National Military Park, PA

[madnessr]

Vagabond

Vagabond — wandering from place to place without any settled home

Poly Lost Boys x GN Reader Synopsis: Forgiveness is a fickle thing. When four souls find each other, the world finds its equilibrium once more; until the absence of another tips the scale forever. What happens when a familiar face shows itself back at the boardwalk after twenty years of absence?

Warnings: slight angst, lots of historical information in the beginning

Word Count: 3k

By issuing the Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4th, 1776, the 13 American colonies severed their political connections to Great Britain. 

You had been ten during the conflicts between America and Great Britain, young and impressionable. Your family came with Puritans, who set sail to America back in 1630. Unlike the Pilgrims, who had left ten years earlier, the Puritans did not break with the Church of England but sought to reform it. All that happened before you were born; your ancestors had settled down and spread their roots into American soil. 

You recalled little of the American Revolution; after all, you were very young back then, but you remember December 15th, 1791, vividly. Your mother couldn't stop crying that day, and your father had pulled out the oldest whiskey they had that day. America was finally severed from the tyrannical rule of George III. 

You came to understand the significance of those dates more as you aged, growing into a strong individual as you helped your family on their farm. You never intended to marry; it wasn't something you had ever desired or looked forward to. The same year you had gotten married was the day you lost your immortality; both events are related but not necessarily connected. You were introduced to the vampiric community in New Orleans, a city that used the day to sleep off the mistakes you made throughout the rambunctious night. 

You had lived through the formation of the Constitution of the United States of America in 1787 when the founding fathers sought to implement more structure into the now independent country. 

The infamous whiskey rebellion. American drunks apparently were not too keen about Alexander Hamilton implementing a liquor tax to try and raise money for the national debt; asserting the federal government's power back in 1794. 

Only nine years later, the Louisiana Purchase happened in 1803. The small land purchase for only $27 million created room for the states of Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Oklahoma, along with most of Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, and Minnesota.

Throughout the 1810s and 1830s, you had moved on from New Orleans and left for New York, seeking human connections and reconnecting with the younger generations. During that time, the Battle of New Orleans in 1815 and the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 seemed to fly past you. 

Then, signed on February 2nd, 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo finally brought closure to the Mexican-American war. At this time, you were no stranger to political conflicts anymore, and the stench of blood and sweat staining battlefields was, unfortunately, no stranger. 

Life moved on regardless, no matter the horrid realities life provided. For a short while, life had finally come to a stand-still, guns tucked away as the world in America resumed its development. Until April 12th, 1861, Confederate troops fired on Fort Sumter in South Carolina's Charleston Harbor at 4:30 A.M., A day that changed America forever, the beginning of the American Civil War. 

The Emancipation Proclamation, The First Conscription Act, The Battle of Chancellorsville, The Vicksburg Campaign, The Gettysburg Campaign, The Battle of Chickamauga, The Battle of Chattanooga, The Siege of Knoxville. The list continued, and the coppery smell of wasted humanity tainted the air, the wind carrying the cries of victims throughout the nation. 

The war ended in the Spring of 1865. Robert E. Lee surrendered the last major Confederate army to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9th, 1865.

The number of soldiers who died throughout those four years eventually got estimated to be around 620,000.

Only 47 years later, on July 28th, 1914, the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, beginning the cruel trench warfare of World War I. In early April 1917, America aided the effort to join a war to end all wars. You had entered the war effort, like everyone capable at the time; from soldiers to nurses, everyone gave aid. 

On November 11th, 1918, the war ended. Although the Allies won, you found no reason to celebrate. Not when mothers sold their homes since there wasn't a reason to have a multiple-bedroom house anymore, when graveyards overflowed with the dead, when people mourned their losses, when mothers' only answer to their missing sons was a notice declaring their child missing in action. 

The stock market crashed in 1929, kicking off the Great Depression that would last for more than a decade. 

On September 1st, 1939, Germany invaded Poland. Kicking off World War II and beginning one of the most brutal warfare's, Blitzkrieg. On May 8th, 1945, Germany surrendered. After the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan surrendered on September 2nd, 1945, and the Second World War came to an end.

The war ended, and the surviving soldiers returned with missing limbs and broken spirits. You were a firm believer that humans were not meant to witness so much death; it tainted them; it dulled them. Although you were a vampire, a creature supposedly made for horror, you could not forget what you had witnessed in only the span of 21 years. 

You were 201 years old now, relatively young in the grand scheme of time, but you had lived through a few of the greatest horrors the world had ever seen. 

189 years of traversing the lands, you watched grow in a desperate search to find one of your own. Since you were turned and left New Orleans, you had not met a single vampire. You watched with sorrowful wisdom in your eyes as the world passed through you, virginity in people's expressions you wish you had. A gaze untainted by warfare, civil unrest, and brutality. 

Although you have met the occasional human to brighten your own world, it did not cure you. Your search was desolate—fruitless. 

Your feet had carried you to Santa Carla, the year now being 1963, and just as the five stages of grief had settled on acceptance. You bumped into a group of four rambunctious bikers that would change your life forever. That had been the first time you had met, and you had continued to live together, going on to live through the Civil Rights movement and grieving the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

But on August 12th, 1967, you left Santa Carla. Your absence is only justified by a delicately written letter standing in your place. You had grown to love the boys, but you had lived differently compared to them. 

Marko and Paul were younger vampires than you, having been turned while The Great Depression was bulldozing America. Dwanye had been older, abandoning his immortality in the 18th century along with David. All of them possessed the innate ability to move on from the past, a talent you, unfortunately, did not possess. 

No matter how hard you tried, you could not find peace or excitement in the future. The uncertainty corrupted you, tormented you and your experiences, so you left. Not with the intent to abandon but to sort out whatever you had to sort out. Away from the prying eyes of those you loved, those who you did not want—couldn't disappoint.  

Santa Carla, the town you had never been able to forget. It was 1987 now; twenty years had passed since you had seen the four vampires. You had missed them—a melancholic weight having nestled its way into your heart ever since you left. You regretted the way you had left through a simple letter. A cowardly move; you were wise enough to understand that. But at the time, you couldn't bring yourself to say it to them. How could you? Look someone in the eyes, someone like you—your own pack that never did anything but love you—and tell them you were leaving? 

You didn't have the heart, and if you were a little more honest, you didn't have it now, either. But you missed them more than your hurt pride by walking what felt like a walk of shame as you wandered around the busy boardwalk. One thing you never could get used to was the constant shift in fashion, it felt like the ins became the outs overnight, and you never were able to keep up with it. 

Bright colors were the most fashionable now, with teased hair and loud makeup. You enjoyed it, your knowing eyes watching over the crowd. The smell of hairspray permeated the air, wafting towards you as you passed people. Bulky and oversized clothes were spotted throughout the crowds, some men and women wearing specific member-only jackets. Ah, it seems the surfer nazis still haven't given up on Santa Carla yet. 

The amusement park was new; back in 1867, the boardwalk had small shops littered around—like a market. Originally it mostly sold food and groceries, fish caught fresh from the sea, and farmers selling their produce. 

How has the pier changed so significantly? If it wasn't for the bold, attention-seeking sign that said Santa Carla Boardwalk; you would've thought you were at the wrong address. But stepping on those old wooden floorboards of the pier that occasionally creaked or sunk under your feet was an all too familiar feeling. The smell of salt, rotting seaweed that had washed onto the shore, and the fresh street food made you feel all too at home. 

It felt like you had never really left. 

Your appearance had changed quite a bit since you left Santa Carla, so you didn't expect either the boys or Max to really recognize you. But although you were willing to stay under the radar for the boys, Max was another story. He was a head vampire, a coven leader, and therefore needed to be notified of your presence. 

Entering Max's video store made you feel nostalgic, the same old grimy bell still hanging atop the doorframe signaling your arrival; you had been the one to put that there to originally annoy Max. You were surprised he kept it. The wooden floorboards and furniture gave off a distinct, homey smell. You had been there when the store was built, and the shiny coating across the floors now had grown mat, occasional wood panels brighter in color than before. 

"I never thought I'd meet the day I saw you walk through those doors again." 

Turning around, you met the stern gaze of Max. His outfit made you smile, a desperate attempt at blending in with the crowd. Max was always a stickler for blending in; if he had no intention of turning you; you had no business knowing who; or rather what, he was. 

"It's good to see you." 

"I'm flattered, but I doubt that I am the sole reason you returned." Max always carried that knowing tone, as if he's watched out every move you'd make before you made them. It reminded you that Max had a coven before the boys and you, one he rarely conversed about. Perhaps Max really had seen this turn out before, but analyzing that surprised expression, you could only assume who had left never did come back. 

"How right you are," You sighed, shoulders dropping as you hopped onto the cashier counter. It was before opening, meaning you and Max had some time to chat privately. 

"Twenty years is a long time," Max hummed, a low and almost chiding tone. "What made you come back?" 

"To us, it isn't," You weakly argued back. The cumbersome feeling, or rather an awareness that you were in the wrong, was nearly unbearable. You were smart enough to understand that denial was a fruitless endeavor, and yet you couldn't help but let those desperate attempts escape you. 

"For people waiting for you, it's an eternity." Max sighed in a calm but chiding tone. Although Max never did have to scold you the way he did with the boys, from not committing arson to preventing fights. Max instead focused his guidance towards you on a more emotional level, the morality; a bit ironic being taught by a vampire—but he did his best. 

You glanced outside, through the glass walls of Max's shop, watching the bustling crowd pass you. Twenty years to a vampire was nothing, but somehow the short span of time felt arduous. Why did you come back?

"I never intended on staying away forever. I knew that when the time was right, I'd return." You explained, stealing a quick glance at Max. The older man had a frown etched onto his face, eyebrows furrowed as his own gaze lingered on the rambunctious humans outside. So unaware of the constant and unrelenting passage of time. It was cruel to be immortal; the passage of time no longer hindered you. But emotions are bendable and are the only aspect of ourselves that remains from who we were. Emotions were mortal. 

"Santa Carla has changed, Y/N. It is not what you left behind; they are not the same as they were alongside you." Max recalled, his voice disapproving. 

You knew Max was correct; you knew deep in your wrenching and twisting gut. You jumped off the counter, your feet hitting the floor like gravity had shifted around you, sinking your body into the floor. "I know," you knew; perhaps the boys didn't even want to see you; they could curse you out and send your name to hell for all eternity. They deserved to do it too. 

But they loved you once, and perhaps you can't help shake the feeling that they might love you again this time too. 

Max sighed, walking over to his front door and twisting the closed sign around, and pronouncing the store now open. Each tap of his foot, synced with his steps, was like a thundering echo inside you. It prompted you to get up and to provide closure for the others. You reach the door, opening midway before Max leaves you with some parting advice. 

"I hope you find what you came here for, Y/N. But the time might be right for you now, but it might not be for them."

You nodded, not looking back as you walked out of the store. The air was warmer, humid from the ocean breeze mixing into the air, the notorious assassin for any styled and teased hair due.

Laughter was one of your favorite sounds. As cliche as that might sound, it felt rejuvenating to hear. Whether it was a loud cackle mimicking the call of a hyena or a high-pitched wheeze or whistle. There was a beauty in people's expressions, how their noses tended to scrunch up, or how others held their stomachs and nearly doubled over. Laughter was infectious, and you loved observing the dopamine spread to others. Strangers connecting over a similar sense of joy; there was a beauty in it. 

The boardwalk was filled with it, people brushing shoulders against shoulders as they walked. Groups cackling and shoving each other as they enjoyed the youngness of the evening. Music booming from different directions, punks blasting the newest rap or metal music, hippies tuning out to a gentle jam, but the loudest seemed to be a distant concert down the boardwalk and closer to the pier. Like a bee sensing some honey, you followed. Dodging the occasional passerby, ducking out of the way from shop owners lugging their merchandise around. 

The music got louder, and a small thread of excitement seemed to push you further, faster. Your small stroll transformed into a quickened step, your ears guiding you and your eyes following the crowd. The music was loud; a tight smosh-like pit had formed before the stage where people grind and brushed against each other to the beat of the music. 

Looking around, you scanned the faces of teenagers and young adults. There was an eager but dreaded nervousness to your gaze at the thought of seeing a face that looked familiar. But it wasn't your eyes that caught their presence, but rather your sense of smell. 

 Copper. 

Although it was harder to pick up when the wind stills its prancing, the occasional breeze led you further towards the pier. Away from the smosh pit, and where people stood to enjoy the music but not risk getting mulled over by a hormonal teenager. 

There they stood, strikingly familiar. Although some of the fashion had changed, most of their originality stayed intact. That tiny red flag tied around Dwayne's waist was something the two of you had stolen from a stingy bar owner back in 1964; Markos jacket still had all too familiar patches sewn into its denim fabric; Paul still wore those bracelets you gave him, and David wore the most prominent reminder of you, his oversized coat. 

The wind picked up around you, a cold and mocking breeze flowing through your hair and betraying your presence to the four men you had left behind all those years ago. One by one, heads lifted, smiling ceased, and laughter died. Although you had spent years preparing yourself for this moment, nothing felt so gut-wrenchingly real than standing before them. 

How do you look someone in the eyes after you've abandoned them?

How do you move past that moment when the world around you stills and halts. When you lose yourself in the blear of the world when mortality reaches its hand around your heart and squeezes. A vice-like grip, a feeling blooming within your chest so heavy–so unspeakable. When you see those eyes, recognize the sorrow behind them and realize you were the perpetrator. You were the one who put that agony, that sadness there.

The burden of your actions ties itself around your throat like a noose, tight and unyielding, as you realize the cruelty was done by none other than yourself. And there is no way, in any shape or form, you could reverse the damage you've done. Pain is immortal, it might yield to its throbbing, but it never forgets. 

A world with your boys back in 1967 exists now only in your memory. The four men, cold as the autumn waters, were your reality now. 

"Hello, boys."

[todaysdocument]

Address of the President in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Collection FDR-PPF: Papers as President, President's Personal FileSeries: Speeches of President Franklin D. RooseveltFile Unit: First Carbon Files

ADDRESS OF THE PRESIDENT GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA May 30, 1934 Governor Pinchot, Mr. Chairman, my friends: What a glorious day this is. I rejoice in it and I rejoice in this splendid celebration of it. I am especially happy to stand here on the field of Gettysburg at the side of a man, who, through all his life, has so splendidly served the cause of progressive government and the cause of humanity, Gifford Pinchot, Governor of Pennsylvania. (Applause) (The foregoing paragraph was extemporaneous and not included in the printed release to the Press.) On these hills of Gettysburg two brave armies of Americans once met in (combat) contest. Not far from here, in a valley likewise consecrated to American valor, a ragged Continental Army survived a bitter winter to keep alive the expiring hope of a new Nation; and near to this battlefield and that valley stands that invincible city where the Declaration of Independence was born and the Constitution of the United States was written by the fathers. Surely, as Congressman Haynes has said, (all) this is holy ground. It was in Philadelphia, too, that Washington spoke his solemn, tender, wise words of farewell -- a farewell not alone to his generation, but to the generation of those who laid down their lives here and to our generation and to the America of tomorrow. Perhaps if our fathers and grandfathers had truly heeded those words we should have had no family quarrel, no battle of Gettysburg, no Appomattox. As a Virginian, President Washington had a natural pride in Virginia; but as an American, in his stately phrase, "the name of American, which belongs to you, in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism, more than any appellation derived from local discrimination." Recognizing the strength of local and State and sectional prejudices and how strong they might grow to be, and how they might take from the national Government some of the loyalty the citizens owed to it, he made three historic tours during his Presidency. One was through New England in 1789, another through the Northern States in 1790, and still another through the Southern States in 1791. He did this, as he said -- and the words sound good nearly a century and a half later -- "In order to

[stagkingswife]

Around the holidays I had the unique joy of meeting up with @windvexer in person while they were visiting my beloved New York City.  Over sushi, dessert, and then just hanging out in their hotel lobby we had a wide ranging conversation about our practices, UPGs, etc.  The conversation eventually drifted to comparing our spirit lead initiations.  Chicken’s story is theirs to share, or not, as they choose. But I’ve been thinking a lot since that conversation about my own initiation and how it parallels another important story in my life. 

When I was 15 I was a dancer and I was good, like competing at a national level.  I was cast as Odette in my ballet school’s adaptation of Swan Lake.  I practiced, and rehearsed, and trained all year long for the role. Then a month before recital weekend my family and I went on a weekend trip to Gettysburg. I also love history, and my dad and I had just read a book about the battle of Gettysburg together, so we clambered all over the battlefield.  I tore a calf muscle doing this.  I saw my usual doctor for injuries and wore a cast for three weeks, walked through rehearsals, took it easy.  Once the cast was off a week before the recital I ramped up slowly, warmed up more than usual, stretched carefully, everything.  But come recital weekend I danced my heart out and left everything on the stage.  3 weeks later I was diagnosed with CRPS in the leg I had injured. What does any of this have to do with my initiation?  Everything, just bare with me. 

My childhood mentor had been initiated by the spirits of her tradition, and she had spoken to me about the effect this had had on her.  I had written an academic paper on initiatory spiritual traditions and the phenomena of initiation sickness.  I knew, long before Oisin ever broached the topic with me, that a spirit lead initiation could wreck your life, that it would be trying in ways that were specifically designed to change you on a fundamental to suit the spirit's needs, and that undertaking one would have consequences I couldn’t even begin to image.  I also knew that dancing Swan Lake one week out of a cast could have disastrous results for my dance career.  But I loved the music and choreography.  I loved how I felt while I was dancing.  So I danced.  I was already in love with Oisin when he presented me with this trial. I loved learning from him, and working with him, and if there was something hard, even something impossible, that he needed me to do so that I could keep learning and working with him - it was no question. 

I had no way of knowing when I was teenager waiting in the wings in my white leotard and feathered wig that I was about to dance my last ballet.  That in less than a year I would start using a cane, or that I would one day swap the cane for a wheelchair, or any of the changes and accommodations that I’ve had to make in my life for my disability.  I only knew the love. When I said yes to Oisin I couldn’t have predicted how much it would break me when he killed my soul, dismembered it, and scattered the innumerable shreds across the Otherworlds.  I could have imagined the amazing and terrifying things I saw and experienced on my journey to find those fragments and assemble myself - or what it was like to live without a complete soul in the meantime. And nothing could have prepared me for the permanent changes the whole process had wrought on my life: on my physical health, my mental health, the very fact that my spiritual oaths and promises must always come first for me.  I only knew the love. 

17 years after my diagnosis, and 13 after my initiation started, I look back at the choices that led to both and would make them both again, even knowing the consequences.  These two choices, more than almost anything else in my life, have shaped who I am as an adult and I like that person.  These choices came from the right place, both times.  Not from ambition, greed, guilt, or fear, but love.  And I can’t ever regret what I did for love.

[heavenlybackside]

General Longstreet casts long shadows across the battlefields of Gettysburg. — at Gettysburg National Military Park.

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Out of curiosity, do you have any suggestions about anything or any place in Gettysburg that you think one have to do if one only have a short trip?

Gosh, yes, I have Opinions(TM). Here I'll do my best to put together a guide for a casual tourist who has limited time.

Let's start with the visitor center. There are pros and cons—I think the interpretation is decent, and it's clearly been updated within the last 5ish years. It's more middle of the road than I personally would like it to be, but it's a National Park so they're limited in what they can say. The museum does a good job talking about the experiences of civilians (including free Black people) before, during, and after the battle. They also have some new signs up around the town to talk about Black experiences.

Cons of the visitor center: I do not like the museum design. It's very text heavy, and I found myself getting fatigued trying to pay attention to everything. There was not enough seating, although I remember the the space being maneuverable for a wheelchair user. It's very dark and needs more lighting. They also have a lot of audio/video elements, and the sound design isn't good, so it bleeds into other areas of the space with several sounds overlapping.

Gettysburg Visitor Center Museum: take a quick walk through and pay attention to what interests you. Skip the cyclorama and the intro video. There are scheduled ranger talks that could be good but I haven't been to them.

Guided bus tour: save your money and skip it. I went because I was interested in how they would tell the story of the battle, but it's not necessary to get a good feeling of the action or to get information. The National Parks Service has a free app with narrated driving tours. Do that instead. Here's a map from the NPS.

Downtown Gettysburg: Very strange. Highly touristy, and almost every business has a battle-themed name. There are some cute local restaurants, but I wouldn't spend too much time there.

Sights to See: if you have a limited amount of time, here are the places I would most recommend visiting.

The National Cemetery. This is where Lincoln gave his Gettysburg address, which kicks off memorialization at Gettysburg and is part of what leads Gettysburg to become the center of Civil War memory making (this is stop 16 on the driving tour).

Eternal Light Peace Memorial. Not so much for the memorial itself, because it stands for the 'forgive and forget' model of remembering the Civil War, which neglects the experience of Black people during the war and Reconstruction. The park has put up signs discussing why this is problematic, and it does a good job discussing the issue. It also has a good view (stop 2 on the driving tour).

Devil's Den. It's iconic. It's a beautiful natural formation. There's something about that cluster of boulders that captures the imagination. It's a little out of the way from some of the other locations, but go if you can.

Little Round Top. LTR is currently closed for maintenence, but it should be open in 2024. It's a great place to get a view of the whole battlefield, and it's the site of Joshua Chamberlain's iconic bayonet charge (featured in Gettysburg the movie). Here's a NPS ranger giving a virtual tour. Here's a view from LRT, which also happens to be my computer background...

Other Resources: Gettysburg ranger programs Information about the 160th anniversary Historic and modern image gallery

Gettysburg is beautiful, but the tourism industry has definitely left its mark. So much effort has gone into creating a very curated experience for visitors, but don't be afraid to do your own thing. Visit sites out of order. Go with what speaks to you. Remember to be respectful.

-Reid

[gatekeeper-watchman]

What Are We Going to Do?

          When you read our Declaration of Independence; when you read the Preamble to our Constitution; when you read our Constitution; and then, when you read the amendments, including our bill of rights, to our Constitution; how can you doubt, as President Abraham Lincoln said at Gettysburg in November of 1863, “that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom–and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth”. From all that has gone before, how can we doubt that? And yet, despite all we have sacrificed and endured throughout the history of our great nation and all the blood which has been shed by our valiant soldiers on the battlefields here and abroad, we the people have effectively lost control of our government. Our government is no longer “of the people, by the people, and for the people”. Rather, our government is of the power elite (essentially, the top one percent of us), by the power elite, and for the power elite. Extending their tentacles, acting through the media and those whom we term lobbyists, they have brainwashed us with misinformation and propaganda and bought out our elected representatives to such an extent that we the people no longer have control of our government. Our great nation has become their playground and we are slowly but surely becoming their serfs.

Probably the final nail in our coffin was in the form of Citizens United v. FEC, when the U.S. Supreme Court by a 5-4 margin ruled that corporations have the right to spend unlimited amounts of money to influence the outcome of elections. Effectively, the Court ruled that corporations have the right of free speech, the same as people. Corporations are people. How many people outside of those belonging to the one percent do you know who can stand up to that kind of political power? The net result is that our elected representatives pay little or no attention to us. We the people are no longer in charge. As I said before, our government is no longer a government of the people, by the people, and for the people.

What are we going to do? How can our people take back our government? Just for starters, we need new amendments to the Constitution:

We need corporations to remain legal entities. However, we must amend the Constitution to the effect that corporations are not people; and, therefore, do not enjoy the benefit of our bill of rights. They do not have the right of free speech.

We must amend the Constitution to the effect that all elections will be publicly funded from the public treasury, Federal, State, and Local, with caps per campaign to be set for all expenditures; no candidate will be allowed to use his or her personal assets nor those of family to finance campaigns; no candidate will be allowed to solicit or accept outside contributions other than those provided from the public treasury; and all campaigns will be limited to six (6) months duration. Separate “standalone” funds will be established for each election’s entity to account for all campaign transactions and financed by single fully identifiable tax assessments “earmarked” for each entry, i.e. strict accounting control.

In the conduct of all elections within our nation (Federal, State, and Local), through another amendment to the Constitution, we need to establish fair and consistent voting laws throughout, wherein all candidates and parties are treated equal and have equal opportunity under the law. Multiple political parties should be allowed with equal opportunity upon which to be voted.

We should reorganize our government into four branches, adding a “Branch of the Controller”, with the complete responsibility for accounting, control, reporting, budgeting and planning, internal auditing, and investigative reporting over all operations, including subcontractors and the capital police, throughout government. To those opposed to bigger government, I must emphasize that this change should not and must not increase the size of government one twit. Every function indicated in this recommendation is being performed currently throughout our government. This recommendation will put all these functions under one head, thereby eliminating duplication of functions and costs as well as (currently a problem), the fox guarding the hen house. I further recommend that the head of this new branch of government be appointed by the President, approved by the Senate, and serve an indefinite term, renewable every eight years. If he would be willing to accept the offer, I recommend we begin with General David Walker who is intimately familiar with the inter-working of our government and of excellent character. He should be given all authority and power necessary to successfully implement and execute the responsibility of this position.

Let us take back our government folks. Let’s get business and government back to serving the people rather than the people serving them. It’s up to you. Only if we work together can we achieve this end. What do you think?

[mecthology]

The Legend of Old Green Eyes.

Chickamauga Battlefield, often referred to as the "Gettysburg of Georgia," is a site deeply etched in the annals of American history. This historic location, where nearly 40,000 soldiers lost their lives during a bloody Civil War battle, is now the setting for one of the most haunting legends in the South.Among the swirling mists and shadows that blanket the battlefield, a mysterious and terrifying figure is said to roam: "Old Green Eyes."

The true nature of Old Green Eyes remains shrouded in mystery. Some believe it to be the restless spirit of a Confederate soldier who lost his head during the battle, wandering the grounds in search of his missing body. Others claim the creature is something far older and more sinister, perhaps rooted in Native American folklore as a half-man, half-beast protector of sacred ground. Psychic Mark Fults even suggests that Green Eyes predates the Civil War, connected to ancient mound builder worship practices.

The earliest reports of Old Green Eyes date back to the Civil War itself, where it was said to have been seen among the corpses near Snodgrass Hill, a particularly haunted area of the Chickamauga National Park. Over the years, various accounts have surfaced, including a notable incident in 1976 when park ranger Edward Tinney claimed to have seen the creature, describing its glowing eyes and long hair.

Despite the skepticism that surrounds such tales, numerous encounters have been reported. These sightings have kept the legend alive, contributing to the eerie allure of the battlefield. Some say the creature transforms the surroundings into a hellish landscape filled with smoke, fire, and the anguished cries of fallen soldiers.

Follow @mecthology for more horror stories and lores.

Source: astonishinglegends.com

[rabbitcruiser]

American Civil War: The Battle of Gettysburg began on July 1, 1863.  

[blueiscoool]

Civil War Artillery Shell Discovered at Gettysburg

An unexploded artillery shell was discovered at Gettysburg National Military Park on Feb. 8, host to one of the bloodiest but most decisive battles of the Civil War.

Explosive Ordnance Disposal soldiers with the Army’s 55th Ordnance Company safely removed and destroyed the device, determined to be a 3-inch Burton case shot, according to an official statement.

“This type of munition was historically used during the Civil War and most likely came from the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863,” Capt. Matthew D. Booker, commander of the 55th Ordnance Company, noted.

Steven Brann, a contract archeologist, found the artillery shell while doing a ground sweep of the Little Round Top area, which is under renovation. The hill saw some of the most intense action between Union and Confederate troops during the three-day 1863 conflict, which ended in a Union victory and marked a key turning point in the Civil War.

After traveling from Fort Belvoir, Virginia, the soldiers carried the 10-pound shell to an alternate location, dug a hole, and placed it there along with C4 explosives to blow it up, Jason Martz, a spokesman for the military park said.

“We’re never going to know whether the thing was live or not,” Martz told the Washington Post. “And we’re never going to know how that shell got to the point where we found it.”

Though rare, this is not the first time unexploded munitions were recovered from Gettysburg. In August 2022, a 3-inch Hotchkiss shell was found lodged in a historic building being refurbished, the Army statement said.

Antique munitions from various conflicts are still being found across the United States and the world.

In February 2022, archeologists found a 10-pound Civil War shell at Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park in Georgia. In December 2022, five construction workers were hospitalized after being exposed to a gas released from striking a World War II-era phosphorous bomb while doing work at Army Garrison Stuttgart, Germany.

By Jonathan Lehrfeld.

[mariacallous]

The Civil War: The Gettysburg Address

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met here on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of it, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense, we can not dedicate we can not consecrate we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they have, thus far, so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom; and that this government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

[kmarli]

going on a roadtrip up I95 and so far on my to visit list is:

savannah, ga - apparently there’s a good park and a bridge i should see the sunset at???

myrtle beach, sc/nc (not sure which) - heard about this beach and wanna judge it like the judgey soflo beach girl that i am

richmond, va - theres a edgar allan poe museum here, seems neat

???? not sure maybe dc

gettysburg, pa - the real reason i’m doing this, wanna take a half day tour of the battlefield and then go see the museum that has a bunch of cat figures recreating the battle

and idk on the way back what ima do

honestly thinking of just looking for random stretches of asphalt i can go rollerblading on and stopping at any national/state park signs i see

[jthume]

Going Cross Country

The podcast is back after a two-week hiatus due to JT driving to the East Coast and back. Today's episode is all about that eleven-state tour (NV, UT, WY, NE, IA, IL, IN, OH, PA, MD, DE, and back). For those scoring at home, JT drove over 5,500 miles.

Also: Visiting the Gettysburg National Military Park What's the one color you'll see from coast to coast? Happy 41st Anniversary!

Gettyburg is a must-see for the history nerd (guilty). If you can't get there, Juston Scarred from Randomland does a great job outlining the museum and battlefield.

We'll get back to a true writing podcast next week. Have a listen and enjoy!

https://carsonhume.com/2023/06/04/going-cross-country/

[miss-chevious19]

Part 4: Books by Black Authors to Read

Dread Nation #1 Dread Nation Justina Ireland Jane McKeene was born two days before the dead began to walk the battlefields of Gettysburg and Chancellorsville—derailing the War Between the States and changing America forever. In this new nation, safety for all depends on the work of a few, and laws like the Native and Negro Reeducation Act require certain children attend combat schools to learn…