Greenfield Village's Civil War Remembrance Days

Here are a few more pictures, as promised, of last weekend's event at Greenfield Village, in no particular order. A handful from the event's Civil War Ball... daughter Corrie in the purple ball gown... daughter Chaela in the blue. My wife/their mom made them (the ball gowns... we went halfsies on making the kids - a team effort)... as well as her own and all their - the three of them - multiple CW dresses as well).

The group shot of a bunch of sharp looking guys in blue is only a small part of the military contingent of the 21st Michigan Volunteer Infantry that was in attendance. We have some forty military total in the 21st... and a goodly number of civilians (men, woman and children) as well.

There's our family portrait will someday be here too... In the mean time here is a neat picture (well, considering the subject matter) taken of me by a nice, young Reb friend - Ian... another of me reading a letter from home to its unlearned recipient... I will post that one later and more in the future as time allows.

Check out fellow 21st-er and good friend Ken's blog - http://passionforthepast.blogspot.com/2008/05/decoration-day-at-greenfield-village.html

In his latest posting, he quotes a local paper's coverage of the Greenfield Village event...

"More interactive than a book and more accurate than many movies, reenactments allow visitors to not just glimpse history, but to step back and experience a moment in time."

"Uncle Mike, I'd like to have your permission to date your daughter..."

Usually a father would not be pleased to hear such a request asked of him. I could defend my positive response by saying that, well, Nic's mom is only my half-sister.

If you frequent Blank Fields at all, you will recall that I refer to our reeancting unit (the 21st Michigan Volunteer Infantry) as family. And if you know me at all, you also will recall that I don't have a sister. Half or otherwise. Just a lone brother whom I've not seen in six years.

Karen and I and the girls are quite close to Nic's family. We've known the large family since we've joined the unit... only just meeting the eldest son, Nic, this season. The younger ones having called Karen and I "Aunt" and "Uncle" for most of that time. Their mom is my "baby sister" and I am her "big brother". It seems right and true no matter the century.

And since the little ones call me "Unca Mike", it seemed like a good idea to come up with a story... for the public... especially since I am a "Methodist" chaplain and they are good and quite devoted "Papists" (don't be offended... I realize that the term is disparaging and a slur to Catholics... but it was one used sadly used by Protestants in days of old. And besides, my "sister" uses it to tease me. And furthermore, I had once been Catholic myself ( for a whole a year and a half - I guess it didn't take)... as was my bride for almost the first thirty-years of her life... we were married in the Catholic Church... by her brother-the-priest.

So, anyway, our "story" is that Father (remember this is in the early 1800s now), a Protestant, remarried after Mother died of the diphtheria, to a Romish woman (another politically incorrect and offensive not-so-nice name) . They had my baby sister who was then, of course, raised Catholic. The aforementioned doctor in our unit is her half-brother as well. Her mother's child from her previous marriage. I think.

While we cannot re-write the history of the Civil War, we can certainly be creative in writing our own history.

On that note, this past weekend, at Greenfield Village, whilst I was running about taking care of the wounded and dying on the battlefield, I failed - during one skirmish - to note that my "sister's husband" was lying close by in need of some spiritual help (be it apostate Protestant or not) and some physical aid. Later, while in rank and file, he berated me. Some brother-in-law I was, leaving him there to die.

"Hmmph." I told him, "I never thought you were good enough for my sister. It was about time someone shot you."

In the next skirmish, I took pains to attend to him when he took a hit. Face down and not-long-for-this-world, I knelt and just loud enough for him alone to hear, while "praying" for him... my hand on his back... said to him, "Argh. You stupid bum! Look what you went and did! How am I going to explain this to my sister!?"

"You'll make something up. You always do. And, oh, sorry about all that money I stole from you playing cards the other night..."

"Oh, that's okay, " I told him. "I stole more from you playing the night before!"

"Remember that dumb fight we had at the last family reunion? Well, I still think I was right...." And with that he died...

Above, is a likeness of my youngest daughter Chaela and Nic at the Civil War Ball that weekend. And beneath it the two of them with escort Randall.

On his two feet here.

Great kids all.

"My, you've grown a foot since I saw you last!"

This past weekend was the 3-day Civil War Remembrance event at Greenfield Village in Dearborn, MI... a part of the impressive Henry Ford Museum complex. It is a grand kick-off of the reenacting season each year in Southeast Michigan. This has to have been one of the nicest events and best time we've had since moving to to the Greater Metro-Detroit area.

And we have had many and most have been awesome!

This tops them all!

Any event for reenactors is more than just an opportunity to throw on some odd clothes and pretend. It is quite literally a family reunion... and a chance to see folks you might not have seen since the last reenactment - or for a few. Not every unit makes every event. And even in our own unit, the responsibilities of modern day life and of non-reenacting family doesn't always allow each of us to attend everything on our calendar.

And it is always an chance to meet new friends yet un-met. Above is one such new friend... a terrific young man. I am good, good friends with his dad... but until this weekend I hadn't met Randall. He came along to try out reenacting and to get his feet wet in the hobby.

Or should I say, foot.

As an eight-year old, Randall had the unfortunate encounter with a rider mower. Kids are a resilient lot and Randall I gather adapted especially well in the aftermath. He walks with far more grace and confidence than I ever have. No one would ever suspect he wears a prosthetic foot. Except for when he faces north and the twists the thing to face south. With that knowledge of his comfort and good humor I asked him for a favor. Reenactors generally are a overly healthy bunch. Whole of limb and wide of girth. And more than a tad older than the young real-life Civil War soldier. Sooooo.....

We have a doctor in our unit (real doctor in real life, Civil War doctor in Civil War life)... and Doc sets up a forward field hospital tent at events. I told him about Randall... and then introduced them.

The above photograph is the result. Doc had him bandage himself up... apply a modicum of blood (not to push the gruesome envelope too far) and lay there on the stretcher. Doc gave him a liberal dose of laudanum for the pain (okay, it was vanilla extract)... It allowed Doc to explain better about the great numbers of amputations during the war and of much else.

The public was much impressed. Certainly they first thought that Randall had tucked his leg behind him or that there was a hole cut in the stretcher. But as he moved around and sat up, they realized the young fellow was authentic!

I wish, however, I could have seen the faces of those who later recognized him walking happily on two feet through Greenfield Village!

General Sterling

In John Wayne's "True Grit", Wayne's Marshall Rooster Cogburn - a Confederate Civil War veteran - had a cat, you might recall, by the name of General Sterling Price. The historical original - and two-legged - General Sterling Price was an impressive and stubborn Rebel. Rather than surrender at the end of the war, Price took what was left of his army and went to Mexico... and became leader of a Confederate exile colony there in the state of Veracruz.

Up until recently, I never knew anyone, beside the aforementioned cat, who was named "Sterling"... him and, when I was a kid, British race car driver Stirling Moss. Sterling means "high quality". Or "impressive".

And the young gentleman standing here with me in the above image, is just that, impressive. A genuine and most likable Civil War enthusiast, I meet Sterling last fall at an event... and now this year, he and his family have joined with the 21st. A sharp, sharp kid. And I envy him. I saw my first reenactment back in the mid-1960s... would that I had started reenacting myself shortly thereafter. I can only imagine what sights, sites, sounds and smells I would have memories of today... if I had been in this grand hobby since I was Sterling's age. I envy all our unit's kids and teens early start in reenacting. Great kids all.

Imagine where it will take Sterling in the next forty years! General Sterling, no doubt! But Union, of course!

"The Marines have landed and have the situation well in hand."

Recently, a couple of us from the 21st Michigan (21stmichigan.org) joined with the boys from the 4th Michigan (4thmichigancompanya.com) for the weekend... to fight the Rebs yet again, of course... and we had the very great honor to do so along side the Marines (ussmichiganmarineguard.org) . Here are a handful of images, including a well pleased, lone, sailor. There were some casualties, as you can see, but the Confederates finally skedaddled and surrendered...

"Ursine happening at the zoo..."

These bears - on a recent trip to the Detroit Zoo - seem to be living the life of Riley, don't you think? Not to say that they bear resemblance to Jackie Gleason or William Bendix.

Orson Welles maybe.

"She's Got Marty Feldman Eyes"

A couple more droppings from art school sketchbooks. The late, great Marty Feldman... from "Young Frankenstein" and "The Last Remake of Beau Geste".

"The Sunshine Goys"

A much treasured possession. Art school pal Will Finn did this frighteningly prophetic drawing of he and I (lower right - he, upper left - I)... not long after he arrived at Disney's Studios. This is of us sometime in our future, as a couple of down-on-our-luck cartoonists cluttering the gutter in Market Square. Note that I am polishing off yet another fifth of Coca-Cola and he is sleeping off a bummed bottle of Higgins Ink.

Just so I don't feel left out...

Just two random pieces... found in sketchbooks. This time, my stuff and from the late '80s.

The top is the color break for the cover for a slightly-above-ground entertainment and radical weekly rag. The point of the thing was to illustrate and accompany the breaking the news that the profits from the Communist Chinese "Son of Heaven" exhibit (of ancient terra-cotta soldiers touring the US, and at the moment in Columbus, Ohio) funded the massacre in Tiananmen Square. Proudly, I did this (what I thought then, and think now) terrific editorial-esque cover art... the "Son of Heaven" logo made of spilled and splattered blood on the stones of the Square.

My cover was killed just before it went to press. The editors spinelessly balked at the last minute at my trenchant and pointed statement - and a much feared lawsuit. I forget what they ended up going with. Some pablum done by someone else.

I should have demanded my artwork back and a "kill" fee.

The little black and white 'toon I did, beneath it, on a much lighter note, has always been something I've loved (to be humble yet honest). I won't shock you, or gross you out, however, with the true story therein lies.

Will Finn and Mike Bushpig

Just so Will doesn't feel left out... a sketch of his (found in my sketchbook) circa the same time period...

Ray McAnallen

Finally. I found this example of Ray's cartooning prowess. It is from his business card done just before he graduated from AiP. And it has been blown up to grainy proportions.

But it is the best I can do... and find.

Ray?

Bob Sallows

As I've mentioned, Bob was a cartooning instructor at AiP. Taped in an old sketchbook from my days there, I found this newspaper ad he did.

Mike Malle

Mike Malle, along with Will Finn, Ray McAnallen and myself - cartoonists all - happily gravitated towards one another whilst students at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, back in the later half of the 1970s. As mentioned in a previous blog, we caricatured for money. And attention. Mostly for the attention. But the money didn't hurt. Not a bit. No sir.

Malle did these great illustrations. First, of the four of us (top)... beginning at upper left corner and heading clock-wise; Malle, McAnallen, Gillett and Finn. And, in the bottom pic, I am on the left, Will the right.

Malle, sometime after graduation, returned like a roe-filled salmon to its birthplace, and has been an instructor now at AiP for quite a few years. And is also quite an illustrator of some renown.

I am still trying to find some sample of McAnallen's cartoons from the day. Ray - help me out here, dude.

Terence Tyler Riley

More recently found stuff of mine. "Terence Tyler Riley" was a weekly comic strip done fifteen years ago for the Marion (OH) Star, where I was their editorial cartoonist... "TTR" appeared in the weekend's high school feature section.

Read the previous post for my thoughts about jewel or corpse.

Earth Pig

More recently unearthed Earth Pig. Now, I suppose that uncovering something can be taken two ways. You can dig up either long lost buried treasure. Or disinter something old, dead and stinky.

Your call.

Either way, this stuff has got to be at least 25 years old.

Great mimes think alike.

This is today's (May 13) "Pearls Before Swine". Check out my post here on Blank Fields... from March 8... "From My Sketchbook..."

"Shout louder! Maybe your god is in the bathroom..."

Besides the Apostle Paul ("I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves." Galatians 5:12) and, of course Jesus, Elijah is one of my favorite Bible characters.

This Old Testament prophet was a real Baal-buster (I Kings 18).

These cartoons were some done some time back for a "sequential image, stereophonic, multimedia event" for Children's Worship.

"I do believe in spooks...

... I do believe in spooks... I do, I do, I do..."

Okay. I don't. But a lot of people do. And especially in spooky places.

Like at the Historic Fort Wayne. They say that the sally ports - labyrinths of tunnels deep in the 150 year-old walls of the forts - are haunted. And you could almost understand why. Dark as pitch - even in the daytime - except for what light you bring with you and what little squeaks through the gun ports. At nighttime they are suitably and justifiably spooky.

Very late one night, during the recent Civil War reenactors' drill there, one young and brave soldier thought he would spend the night, sleeping in one of the sally ports. There are, at the top of the walls, air vents. A couple of us climbed up and serenaded the lad, through the vent, with faint and eerie harmonica music for a few, and we trust spooky, minutes.

And then we merrily went off to bed, safe in the barracks. In the morning, it was discovered at first call someone was missing! The fellow who was spending the night in the sally port wasn't there. Or anywhere else. Not a sign at all. His car, we found, was still there.

We were more than a little concerned.

After some searching we found him in a room in the large barracks... innocently and soundly sleeping away. He had come back in, sometime during the night, not being able to get comfortable on the stone in the damp and cold. And so found a quiet, warm- and safe - corner to curl up in. Ultimately, he saw to it they the joke was on us!

At least once, on these weekends, we often will take midnight candle-lit tours of the sally ports. Following is a photograph of Dan ("Old Pete") Conklin, Randy ("Previs") Perry, Jim Cary and Mark Heath... with a friend. We were doing some paranormal investigating and found that, maybe - just maybe - the sally ports are haunted by spooks after all. But somehow, we sensed that are "friendly"...

New season...

...new hat.

"Better get a bucket."

Terry Jones as Mr. Creosote, from
"Monty Python's Meaning of Life".

Still more old crap I've drawn found put away in the garage.

Bill Mauldin

The late, great Bill Mauldin was/is/always will be my idol. A wonderful editorial cartoonist and crusty booger, Mauldin wrote his autobiography, "The Brass Ring" in the early 1970s. As a kid, then, at East Jr., I shyly asked the librarian at the Binghamton Public Library to direct me to the books on cartoons and cartooning, he did so by dutifully pointing me towards the 741.5s. But as I turned to go up the stairs, he stopped me and suggested a new book they had just gotten in. "The Brass Ring". I allowed that I had never heard of the author and nor could I recall seeing his work. The librarian explained that Mauldin, an editorial cartoonist for the "Chicago Sun-Times", who had made his bones in WWII as a soldier cartoonist for "Stars and Stripes" in Europe.

I hadn't given much consideration to this branch of cartooning... and while I loved animated stuff - mostly "Looney Tunes"... I was really more in some day doing daily newspaper comic strips. But I checked the book out; my curiosity sufficiently piqued.

I'll always be grateful to that nameless librarian for doing me such a favor. I'll go into more detail later about Mauldin's influence on my life. And I'll post more of Mauldin's stuff later. But I was out in the garage this afternoon, and found my old sketchbooks squirreled away. This delightful sample of Mauldin's work from the early '80s (clipped originally, I admit, from Playboy) taped in the pages one of the sketchbooks. I don't know if I noticed before, but my idol screwed up on the perspective of the tank of the john...

I wrote, the first time to Bill Mauldin in 1973. I don't recall what I wrote, but I'm sure it was a gushing piece of embarrassing fan mail, and with it I must have sent him a sampling of my work, with a request for him to critique. And maybe for a piece of his work while he was at it. Sort of a swap.

He wrote back, "Thanks for your note with the enclosed cartoon which you sent me. I feel that it is a mistake for a practicing member of the cartooning trade to comment on a colleague's work. You should send your work to a professional art teacher or an editor."

I wrote him again, some time later, and pointed out that several times in "The Brass Ring", he elaborated - happily - that as a kid and later as an art student, that he had asked - and received - patient input from many professional cartoonists. I recall I also reminded him that these gracious cartoonists were generous enough to leave him with an autographed original or two to boot. Shouldn't he do no less?

His secretary responded in his stead: "Mr. Maudin has been traveling but I did read your letter over the phone to him. He asked me to tell you that since it has become painfully clear to him in his middle age (I've just realized that he was, then, just a couple of years older than I am, now, for Pete's sake) he isn't going to be able to leave his children an estate, he feels the least he could do is leave them a pile of old cartoons. Therefore, he has been making it a practice to hang on to his stuff. He says it's nice to be asked, though."

His conscience must have been pricked, for in a few months, Mauldin had his secretary write me once again: "Mr. Mauldin asked me to tell you that the reason he ordinarily doesn't comment of art work sent to him is because he travels so extensively that it could be possibly take up to six months before he would be able to respond. However, Mr. Mauldin says that if you are willing to wait that length of time, please feel free to send him a sample of your work to him."

By then I figured, the hell with it.

More pictures - as promised - of Disney World...

Men of the Cloth (especially if the cloth is heavy, blue wool)

Above is a picture of me with fellow chaplain and Civil War Reenactor, Steve Rossio - from the 1st Michigan Infantry, taken last month at Ft. Wayne. I meant to post this with the other pictures - forgive me, Steve. To make up for it, pard, here are a couple others... the first here is also from Ft. Wayne... last November. The second is of the good chaplain in action... at the event of the year - the battle at Jackson, MI - last year. It is he in the foreground with the tan canteen.