Cedar Creek Reenactment 2017: Part 1

The incident I’m going to discuss in this blog occurred a few weeks ago and I think a little distance from it would help me not write a knee jerk angry reaction blog post. As you know I’ve joined my boyfriend in his hobby of Civil War reenacting. What you may not know is that someone tired to blow us and few thousand other reenactors and attendees up. Barely a week later a bomb actually was detonated at Colonial Williamsburg. No one was hurt at either attack but the possibility was too real. It doesn’t really matter how you toss the dice these were direct and violent attacks on American history.

So a little back ground on the battle of Cedar Creek or Belle Grove, it was fought on the 19th of October 1864. General Sheridan, who is from my home state of Ohio and my high school was in the same league as his namesake high school, lead the Federal troops; the Army of the Shenandoah. The confederate troops were lead by General Early. Men fought and died on a battlefield in Virginia surrounded by mountains. This is not a history blog and well that’s what Wikipedia is for I’ll skip to the end… The Union won. Keep that in mind this was a Union victory.

So a few weeks prior to the reenactment a letter was sent that threatened participants and attendees with violence. This was addressed, by law enforcement including the FBI, and the person responsible, a high school student, was found. For the most part we believed it to be resolved. A few weeks prior to Cedar Creek we attended an event at Zoar Ohio. There were also whispers of violence and there were undercover law enforcement to keep us safe. So honestly I don’t think anyone imagined Cedar Creek would have been any different.

The night that we arrived in the tiny town of Middletown, Va. we had to sign in and show our IDs

So it’s pretty common that places will give you a token of some sort to identify you as a reenactor. For example at Gettysburg we had a slip of paper that we had to show when we came in and out, Hale Farm had a similar card, Zoar had a little wooden token on twine and Cedar Creek gave us a lovely medal like one would win in a sporting event, " It'a our participation medal," I quipped. But it was something that could be lost or stolen so they added a second level of security because of the threat and we had to have a white nondescript wrist band too.

This was such a fantastic weekend, too. So I’m not just going to talk about the bad and ignore the fun that was had. Hey I’m a poet and didn’t know it. Sorry… But wouldn’t just talking about the fear and ugliness just be letting them win?

So… after we sign in I and the boyfriends mom stood and watched as other people put up our tents. My goal was to just to stay out of the way. It was a cool, damp and foggy evening. The haze of fog was draped over the mountains creating a beautiful backdrop for a fun weekend. Ever since Adam, the boyfriend, decided that we were going to go to the Cedar Creek he had been excitedly talking about a little greasy spoon BBQ joint, Shaffer’s BBQ and Market. This little joint was only about 300 yards from our camp. Between us and dinner lay a grassy slight incline with a few more rows of tents and a gravel path that lead to the main part of the event. Where the spectators entrance and the Sutlers tents and food vendors were. The distance between us and the Sutlers was a bit of a jaunt and the event coordinators provided a tractor pulled wagon shuttle to get people where they wanted to go. Sorry, I digress… This little greasy spoon was housed in what must have been an old gas station, in front of the busy little store still stood the shelter where gas pumps would have been. In front of the door of the establishment was a middle age woman selling some period clothing and apples and other odds and ends. Along with great BBQ they also sell local products along with some more typical convenience store fair. Inside there was a decently long line that wrapped around passed a deli case where cold sides were kept. To our left was a table handing out samples of a local hard cider. I unfortunately didn’t get the chance to try it.

The prices were reasonable I had a ½ rack of ribs platter and it included two

sides and it was 14.50. With my deliciously smoked ribs I had ranch potato salad and cole slaw. There wasn’t any sauce on the ribs but there were two types of sauce set on the table in clear condiment bottles. They were Tangy Virginia as well as Bold and Sassy, both were good but pretty thin for bbq sauces I think I liked them blended together the best. We sat in a side room where there were a few tables that were surrounded by coolers that you would find in any convenience store filled with drinks both alcoholic and not. There were also local meats and milk. The selection of local beers was likely one of the best that I’ve seen.

When we left, night was beginning to fall on the rows of canvas tents. Across the small hills and valleys tiny points of light from lanterns and camp fires could be seen. Sitting around the fire at these things is quite an interesting experience. So many of these people have lived such interesting lives. A bugle call will cut through the night first to tell solders to return to camp and then an hour or so later at the top of the 11 o’clock hour a bugle call to tell you to go to bed. Not that people listen to that! And then there is booze and snacks and good times are had by all and everyone goes to bed one by one.

That night I made the mistake of bundling up too much for bed, I had leggings, a tank top, my long sleeve beat *ichigan pep rally shirt, my woolly socks and my Darth Vader onesie. It got warmer as the night when on and I shed layers. So I didn’t sleep well. I’m also a person that needs a fan to sleep. So I’m stuck listening to my iPod which sometimes backfires if shuffle plays too many of my favorite songs in a row.

Any way dawn finally comes and that’s usually when I get my sleep when Adam gets up to go do morning formation and such. Everyone else is up and I’m the freak that sleeps till 9:30. Mornings aren’t exactly my thing. As I lay there on my cot cocooned in my sleeping bag I over heard a conversation a man with an incredible heavy British accent was having about how he came to be involved with reenacting and of 2nd amendment. I also have to wait for Adam to get back so he can help me get ready. It’s a chore trying to put on a corset and game over if you forget to put your shoes and socks on first someone else has to put them on you like you’re a little kid.

Anyhow, once I got dressed, we boarded the little tractor pulled shuttle with Adams parents and other reenactors. I was the only one on the little shuttle what was wearing a dress and I felt so bad about how much space I was taking up. Some of the moments I like best are when I’m addressed and spoken to like I’m a lady. Like the nod of the head and the tip of a hat, or when Adam is saluted without provocation. Reenactors and living historians are in pursuit of the most accurate and realistic experience and its these small gestures that I have found in my limited experience make things the most realistic. The subject of conversation on the shuttle was about the threats that had been mad

e and the 2nd amendment, and forgetting history because it makes us uncomfortable would be remiss.

After we make a loop all the way around the camps we finally reached the food and sutler area. Since Adam is being promoted to Captain in December his parents wanted to order him a brand new officers sack coat. He was measured and fitted at the Quartermaster’s Shop and we wandered up and down the rows of tents filled with goods from days gone by; lanterns, and crisp cotton shirts, silk ribbons of every color under the sun, bonnets, ball gowns, wool pants, sabers, and wooden period accurate goods. On a side note, I fell in love with a bonnet, that I saw in the brick and mortar store in Gettysburg when we were there for Remembrance day. I got to try on and feel in love even more. It will be mine in January.

Anyhow, we then got lunch from one of the county fair food truck type vender. It was fantastically over priced. 5 bucks for a fountain drink. Props to the reenactor in front of us for telling them to go to hell when he was told the price. After we ate our overcooked and overpriced chicken tenders we went back to the shuttle. The shuttle back to our camp was too full so after Adam and I spoke with an Embalming Surgeon and we walked back. We were stopped by spectators asking for photos. Which to me is such a huge complement. And its kind of adorable when a father says, “Lieutenant, can I get a picture of you and my son?” And a little boy in blue uniform stands next to Adam, posing with a salute. It clearly made his day, it was so adorable.

After we returned to camp the sun came out and the clouds of the morning cleared and the fog that clung to the mountains burned off in the October sunshine. Around 12:30 the batteries had to move the cannons on to the field. This one of the most annoying parts of any reenactment because of all the jokes spectators typically men who think they are funny. “I didn’t know ford had an 1863 model!” or “That’s a really ugly horse!” Or any other combinations pointing out the inaccuracy that is a modern vehicle to move a cannon. You aren’t funny bro, everyone has made that joke you aren’t cute or cleaver. Anyhow, the battle that day was fairly standard and because of the location of the cannon I didn’t manage to get any good photos. After the battle the batteries brought their cannons back and parked them all in between the rows of tents.

It was that time of the evening where everyone was gathered around campfires where dinner was being cooked. The camps were filled with normal chatter rehashing the specifics of the days battle or what they wanted from what they had seen in the sutler’s tents. Adam and I watched an ambulance go down the little gravel road and I said something to the effect of, “Someone have heat exhaustion or a heart attack.” This wasn’t something that would be strange given the average age to reenactors and it had gotten quite warm that afternoon.

I had just sat back down after getting my dinner; potato soup, salad and gumbo. I had just lifted the first bite of salad to my mouth when a black truck hauling ass, horn blaring, speed up the little path…

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