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Southern Heritage <br>News and Views: June 2011

Friday, June 24, 2011


Tampa – 150 Years ago, 100 of the “Darling” sons of Tampa Town, with patriotic ferver, organized themselves into an infantry company known as the “Sunny South Guards” for the defense of Tampa and Florida.

Descendants of these men are sought for recognition at an historical re-enactment commemorating a Military Flag Presentation by the citizens of Tampa Town to these brave men who joined the armed forces of the State of Florida.

The date is planned on September 17, 2011 just steps from the actual event, which occurred at Fort Brooke.

Assigned to the Army of Tennessee, Hardee’s Corps, the Guards were assigned the unit designation of 4th Florida Infantry, Co. K. The 4th was engaged at Murfreesboro and Jackson, participated in the Campaigns of the Army from Chickamauga to Nashville and saw action in North Carolina. Some of these men will killed in the line of duty, some were held as prisoners of war, while others returned home to help re-build the war-ravaged South.

The names of the soldiers being honored are:





























































































Descendants are requested to register online at or email or call Lunelle Siegel at 813-727-3920 with the Tampa Bay Sesquicentennial Commission.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011


By Bob Hurst

When I was young I truly enjoyed hot weather. It was easier to get loose for sports and I just enjoyed the sensation of heat on my skin. As I approached 40, however, things began changing for me. I was still playing competitive tennis but it was getting harder. My knees, back and shoulder (for some reason) didn't seem the same as they had for so many years. The hardest thing for me to handle, though, was the heat. My solution was to stop playing ( I could never play for fun, I loved the competition too much) so for the last twenty plus years I have spent little time in outdoor endeavors and much time indoors praising John Gorrie and other pioneers in the field of indoor climate control.

So, what does this have to do with anything Confederate? I'm getting to that.

These last few weeks here in upper Florida have just not been my cup of tea. With daily temperatures in the high 90's and low 100's the desire to be outside has been nil and even less. Unfortunately, I had some limbs come down one night recently and had to go out the next day to gather up and haul off. During this process I was sweating profusely and began mumbling to myself some unpleasantries. Then, without even thinking, out of my mouth came a shout of, "Oh, shut up, Grumble Jones", and just like that I was thinking things Confederate.

You see, "Grumble" was the nickname of a Confederate general named William Edmondson Jones. In fact, it has been one of my favorite sobriquets since I first read about Brigadier General "Grumble"Jones. Although he was a highly competent officer, he is best remembered for his irritable disposition and, hence, his nickname.

As I finished up outside I was thinking of other Confederate generals with interesting, colorful or curious nicknames and quite a few were coming to mind. I decided to do some research and see how many established nicknames I could find for that select group. (Note: It takes very little to give me an excuse to do some reading about Confederate generals.) Nicknames have been a part of our culture for decades and, in addition to being interesting, can also give us a glimpse into the personal side of an individual.

What I have found, so far, will be the topic of this article.

The array of nicknames for Confederate generals runs the gamut. Some are very well-known, some are somewhat well-known (especially regionally), some are descriptive, some are sarcastic and there are even some generals who have actual names that sound like sobriquets. I will begin with my two favorite nicknames of our Confederate generals - "Stovepipe" and "Stonewall".

Brigadier General Adam Rankin Johnson accomplished one of the most remarkable feats of the War and, in so doing, earned a memorable nickname and a place in history. General Johnson and a small band of twelve men captured the town of Newburgh, Indiana. Did you get that - 12 men. This was the first Northern town to fall to Confederate forces. (Note: As I hope you know, the South fought a defensive war against the North seeking only independence and separation from "those people" and not conquest so excursions into Yankeeland by Confederate forces were very rare.) Newburgh actually had a large contingent of militia on site but General Johnson and his men found an abandoned wagon and mounted two pieces of stovepipe onto the running gear so that it appeared to be a cannon. Worked beautifically - Yankees surrendered - General Johnson known forever as "Stovepipe", how I love this story!

You're all familiar, I'm sure, with General Thomas J. Jackson being given the nickname "Stonewall" at the Battle of First Manassas when the South Carolinian, General Barnard Bee, sought to inspire his troops to fight on by pointing to Jackson and shouting, "See, there is Jackson standing like a stone wall" and Tom Jackson marched into immortality as "Stonewall". By the way, General Jackson did not like the term "Stonewall" applied to him personally but did like the moniker applied to his brigade. Gen. Jackson was also called "Old Jack" and "Old Blue Light" (for the strange blue color his eyes turned during battle) by his men.

Two very appropriate nicknames were tagged to Lt. Gen. Leonidas Polk and Major Gen. Joseph Wheeler. Polk was known as "The Fighting Bishop" since, in addition to being a Confederate general, he was also Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Louisiana. Wheeler was a general who led from the front and had sixteen horses shot from under him during the War. That, by the way, was second to only the 29 horses that were shot out from under the magnificent Nathan Bedford Forrest so General Wheeler well deserved his nickname of "Fighting Joe".

Concerning nicknames that were descriptive, one of my favorites was the sobriquet given to General Jerome B. Robertson by his troops. He was very popular with the soldiers and always showed great concern for the welfare and well-being of his men so they referred to him as "Aunt Polly". A similar situation involved General Sterling Price who was orderd by Missouri governorClaiborne Fox Jackson to reorganize the state militia and since Price was white-haired and the troops were mostly quite young they christened him "Old Pap".

Two generals, George Anderson and William c. Cabell, had the same nickname, "Tige" (short for "Tiger"), because of their tenacious fighting spirit. General Elisha Paxton was dubbed "Bull" because he was heavily built and had tremendous body strength. By contrast, the great lieutenant general Ambrose Powell (A.P.) Hill was called "Little Powell" because of his frailty and small physique.

Since most generals were a bit more seasoned than the troops they led, many nicknames began with the descriptive term "Old". There was "Old Reliable", Lt. Gen. William Hardee, since he could always be depended upon to perform admirably. General Henry Benning was "Old Rock" because of his soldierly qualities. Then there was "Old Straight", General Alexander P. Stewart, who was a professional educator and known for his clean-living habits and demeanor. General Edward Johnson was known as both "Old Allegheny", because of his Kentucky mountain home, and "Old Clubby" , because of his penchant for leading his troops into battle while carrying a large walking stick rather than a sword. We certainly cannot forget "Old Blizzards", General William W. Loring, whose battle cry upon approaching the enemy was, "Give them blizzards, Boys". I have not a clue what that meant. Then there was General Roger Hanson, "Old Flintlock" to his troops, who had almost an obsession for military discipline. Finally, at least for the "Olds", a rather cruel nickname of "Old One Wing" was hung on General James Green Martin because he had had an arm amputated. That seems a bit cold to me.

Quite a few nicknames were a bit sarcastic. General John Magruder was known as "Prince John" because of his flamboyant uniforms and flamboyant personality. General Nathan Evans was called "Shanks" because of his long, skinny legs. General Camille Armand Jules Marie, Prince de Polignac was called "Polecat" by his troops who, generally , could neither pronounce or remember his name. The fine lieutenant general, Richard Ewell, was called either "Baldy Dick" or Old Bald Head" after he lost his hair and his egg-shaped head and large eyes became more prominent.

One of the best of the sarcastic nicknames was "Extra Billy" which was applied to General William Smith. The sobriquet originated from pre-war business dealings of Smith. He had been given a contract by President Andrew Jackson's administration to deliver mail between Washington, D.C. and Milledgeville, Georgia (then the capital of the state) along routes he had established for mail and passenger coaches. He extended the routes by adding many spur lines thus generating extra fees. When later investigated by the Post Office agents, these extra fees became public knowledge and Smith gained the nickname "Extra Billy" which stuck with him. Didn't hurt him much, though. He was later elected governor of Virginia.

Nature always supplies a balance and perhaps that is why General David Jones was nicknamed "Neighbor" because of his pleasant personality and demeanor which balanced that of another Jones that we have already met, "Grumble".

Past events also played a role in the nicknames applied to various generals. General John Stuart Williams was referred to as "Cerro Gordo" for the exceptional gallantry he displayed at that battle in the Mexican-American War a few years earlier. General George Hume Steuart's nickname was "Maryland" which referred to his affection for his home state.

General Robert E. Lee laid a nickname on General James Longstreet without intending to. After the Battle of Sharpsburg (Antietam in the North), General Lee was looking around for Longstreet and when he finally found him he exclaimed, "Ah! Here is Longstreet; here's my old war horse!" After that, Longstreet became "Lee's Old War Horse". Sort of has a ring, doesn't it?

Oh, by the way, "Jeb", the nickname of General James Ewell Brown Stuart, was simply derived from the first letters of his three names. "Jeb" was certainly easier and quicker.

There were two generals whose given names sounded provocative enough to be nicknames. States Rights Gist is a name that I have always appreciated. His father was such a strong supporter of the doctrine that he chose it for his son's name. That's taking your politics seriously. General Gist was a fine commander who, sadly, was one of the six that we lost at Franklin. General Bushrod Rust Johnson has a name that could represent two family names but it certainly sounds like a nickname to me.

I have no clue how the outstanding Texan, William P. Hardeman, got the nickname "Gotch"; or the Mississippian, Winfield Scott Featherston, obtained the nickname of "Old Swet; or why Robert E. Lee's first cousin, Richard Lucian Page, was nicknamed "Ramrod". None of my references helped either.

Finally, I am concluding this article on nicknames with a mystery. The nickname "Mudwall" has been linked with three different Confederate generals with the last name "Jackson". Obviously it was a play on the name "Stonewall" and was meant to indicate that none of the generals reached the level of the immortal "Stonewall" - but, then, how many generals could? The sobriquet "Mudwall" has been used at various times to refer to William Lowther Jackson, John King Jackson and Alfred Eugene Jackson - all generals who saddled up for the Confederacy. The question is, "Who is the real Mudwall ?" To which general was the term initially applied?

Perhaps some of you reading this article have an idea or some information as to the identity of the real "Mudwall". If so, my contact information is at the end of the article. I will eventually do a follow-up piece on this question but, for now, it will just remain a mystery.

While this article is a bit different than the usual CONFEDERATE JOURNAL offering, I hope you have found it interesting reading about this aspect of our generals in gray. Nicknames or not, they were a splendid group.


Bob Hurst is a true Son of the South with interests in Southern history and the architecture of the Old South. He is Commander of Col. David Lang Camp, Sons of Confederate Veterans, in Tallahassee and 2nd Lt. Commander, Florida Division, SCV. He may be contacted at 850-878-7010 or

NOTE: All the articles from the first four years of CONFEDERATE JOURNAL are now available in book form.These can be ordered online. To order Book 1 (2005-2007) go to: and to order Book 2 (2008-2009) go to:

Saturday, June 18, 2011

The Gettysburg Reunion of 1913

By Calvin E. Johnson, Jr., Speaker, Writer, Author of book “When America Stood for God, Family and Country” and member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans.

America will celebrate her 235th birthday on July 4th!

Fifty years had passed since the Battle of Gettysburg, July 1st- 3rd, 1863, when the Veterans of Blue and Gray braved the summer heat to meet again in Gettysburg.

America celebrated her 137th birthday, nearly a century ago, when….

From June 29 to July 4, 1913, 53,407 Confederate and Union Veterans of the War Between the States came to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania for a Reunion and encampment. Veterans came from 47 of the 48 states of the Union and the Chief Surgeon said of the event, quote “Never before in the world’s history had so great a number of men advanced in years been assembled under field conditions” unquote.

It was the largest combined reunion of War Between the States Veterans.

Do you know who Gen. Robert Edward Lee, Major Gen. George Edward Pickett and Major Gen. Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain were? Are children still taught about these men and all those who met on the famous War Between the States battlefield at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania? Some call the Gettysburg Battlefield the most haunted place in America because so many thousands died on that fateful month of July 1863.

“Comrades and friends, these splendid statues of marble and granite and bronze shall finally crumble to dust, and in the ages to come, will perhaps be forgotten, but the spirit that has called this great assembly of our people together, on this field, shall live forever.”

-----Dr. Nathaniel D. Cox at 1913 Gettysburg Reunion

The youngest Veteran was reported to be 61 and the oldest was 112 years young.

The United States and Confederate flags flew side by side at the Gettysburg soldier’s reunion of honored men who had been enemies on the field of battle.

The State of Pennsylvania hosted the 1913 reunion at the insisting of state Governor John K. Tener. Tener also encouraged other states to arrange rail transportation for the participants. Down South in Dixie, the United Daughters of the Confederacy helped raise money for the transportation and uniforms for their Confederate Veterans.

The soldiers of Blue and Gray, Black and White, came with heads held high and full of war stories. It is written that the hosts did not count on Black Confederates attending the meeting and had no place to put them but the White Confederates made room for their Southern brothers. Black Union veterans also attended this event.

It is written that nearly 700,000 meals were served that included fried chicken, roast pork sandwiches, ice cream and Georgia watermelon. The temperature soared to 100 degrees and almost 10,000 veterans were treated for heat exhaustion and several hundred more were hospitalized. The United States Army was also present in support and it’s written that the old men loved the attention.

A highlight of the reunion was the Confederate Veterans walk on the path of Gen. George Pickett’s charge that was greeted, this time, by a handshake from the Union Veterans.

President Woodrow Wilson said about these men, Quote

“These venerable men crowding here to this famous field have set us a great example of devotion and utter sacrifice. They were willing to die that the people might live. But their task is done. Their day in turned into evening. They look to us to perfect what they established. Their work is handed to us, to be done in another way but not in another spirit. Our day is not over; it is upon us in full tide” unquote.

The War Between the States Sesquicentennial, 150th Anniversary, runs 2011
through 2015. The Georgia Division Sons of Confederate Veterans joins the nation in remembering this historic time in our nation’s history. See information at:

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Colonel Reb is coming to the Pine Belt!

Come out and get your photo with the true Ole Miss mascot on Tuesday, June 21 at 6:30 p.m. at The Gold Club & Grill, 1605 Hardy Street in Hattiesburg, MS.

The restaurant is offering Rebel-inspired dishes on this exciting night. There will also be free collectible Colonel Reb 2011 football schedules, a gift shop with Colonel Reb merchandise, Oxford Eagle sports editor John Davis will share insider info on Rebel football, and Rebel great and NFL alum Kris Mangum will be the guest speaker.

For more information, call 662.801.7295

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

After the Storm

My Experience as a Tornado Relief Volunteer

by Pamela S. Warren

“We know that nothing can ever separate us from You, that in all conflicts we may be more than conquerors, that all dark and hostile things shall be transformed and work for good to those who know the secret of Your love.” Excerpt from Pastoral Prayer by David Schwingle, 12 June, 2011.

On April 27, 2011, at 3:05 pm, the small town of Hackleburg, Alabama, was struck by a rare EF5 tornado. Moments later, it was hit by a second EF5 tornado. Most of the state had been under a tornado watch that day. At 3:05 pm in Hackleburg, people were going about their day-to-day activities. School had let out early, due to the threat of severe weather. At 3:05 pm in Hackleburg, no weather radio sounded an alert, no tornado siren was heard. There just wasn’t time. The only warning came from a fireman in a neighboring town, who had seen the tornado heading toward Hackleburg. He telephoned the fire station to give them warning. A lone fireman manually turned on the warning siren, just seconds before the tornado reached the unsuspecting town. There wasn’t time to take cover. No time to protect yourself. Scarce little time to even pray.

Less than 24 hours after the devastating tornado struck Hackleburg, my husband Terry (known throughout this article as T), started making plans to go help with the clean up efforts. His father lived in Guin, Alabama, when the first recorded EF5 struck that town on April 3, 1974. T went to Guin the day after to check on his dad, as phone lines were down. He also went to help with the clean-up efforts there. He has told me several stories about living down there, and what it was all like after the tornado. His dad lost everything, several friends, and he nearly lost his life. T told me that he remembered several people coming from Hackleburg to help in Guin, and that he “just had to go back home and return the favor”.

The first thing we had to do was somehow make contact with Hackleburg. We were hearing and reading conflicting accounts whether volunteers were being used or not. It took several days before telephone service was even possible with a cell phone. Finally we called the number listed for the Hackleburg Chief of Police, though we feared it was still a long shot bet, at best, if we would reach anyone. It was great to hear a cheerful voice on the other end of the phone saying “Call Center”, in that distinctive “Bama” accent. I was given the phone number for Beth, the volunteer coordinator, who I called immediately. Again, that same accent, that same cheerful delivery. Beth confirmed that volunteers were indeed, needed and wanted, and for us to come on down, “but do be careful on your trip”, she said to me. Wow, in the face of so much destruction, loss and misery, that “stranger” was worried about us making the drive from Illinois to volunteer. This was not the last time I was awed by an Alabamian, nor the last time I spoke with Beth. In fact, I called her so often, checking this detail and that, asking what we needed to bring, etc., that she came to know me simply as “Pam in Illinois”.

May 22 is T’s birthday, but we were far from planning a birthday celebration. In the early morning hours of that day, we were loading supplies for donating to the clean-up efforts, a cooler of food and water, and basic camping gear, as our van was to be our home away from home while we were gone. Not knowing what type of work we would be assigned to do, we loaded a variety of what we thought we might need: hard hats and safety goggles (a “must” according to Beth), work gloves, long pants, tall boots to avoid snake bites, and more “seasonal” garments for evenings when we wouldn’t be working.

We left Bridgeport around 7:00 am, in a 14-year-old van with 225,000+ miles, not knowing if it would even get us to Alabama, let alone get us back home. It is difficult to describe how I was feeling when we hit the road. I was glad to be going, but I was also afraid how I would deal with seeing first-hand, the absolute and total destruction of a small town. A town not so unlike Bridgeport or Sumner. Since the storm we had been glued to YouTube videos of footage taken after the storm. We knew what we were going into: a war zone of indescribable magnitude; destroyed trees, unrecognizable buildings, devastated lives and death.

We were about an hour away from Hackleburg, and there beside the highway was a row of four or five houses, all totally destroyed by yet another one of Alabama’s tornadoes of April 27. The pit of my stomach started tightening up…this was only four or five houses, how was I going to react when I finally got to Hackleburg? It didn’t take long to find out, for within the hour I would know.

We drove down Alabama Route 17, and all was well. Trees flourished, birds flew through the sky and not a power line was down. But as we crossed Clifty Creek and headed back up the hill, we began to see bits and pieces of debris along the road and lying in fields. Trees were snapped and lay on the ground in a path three quarters of a mile wide and as far as the eye could see, much as those on Mount St. Helen’s. The experts call this phenomenon “convergent” patterns. I later learned that we had just traveled the same path as the tornado had after it destroyed Hackleburg. It then turned and followed along the creek on its way to Phil Campbell, Alabama, still as an EF5 tornado. One must remember this tornado was three quarters of a mile wide, with winds at times, nearing 300 miles per hour, and stayed on the ground 23 minutes, and covered 25.2 miles. It was part of a super cell storm which existed about seven hours 24 minutes and traveled 380 miles, producing 170 tornadoes, 55 in Alabama alone. Thank you to NOAA for this information.

We drove on through what I thought must have been the worst of it, but with each eighth mile of so, there was more and more debris and entire buildings which seemed to have imploded upon themselves. There on the right was the Wrangler blue jeans distribution center. Its roof torn off, its girders lying twisted in a heap and the building’s sides folded inward. Yes, it looked bad on YouTube, but this was real, this was right in front of my face, this was incomprehensible.

We started seeing “Volunteer Sign In” signs as we got farther into town. Work crews were everywhere. Heavy equipment was loading debris from huge, endless piles into the biggest dump trucks I’ve ever seen. Burn fields were smoldering all over the countryside, forever being rekindled with yet another truckload of broken wood. Aluminum, steel and other metals, glass and any recyclable materials were being sorted into yet more piles. As a side note, last Friday, June 10, the Army Corps of Engineers estimated that if all the non-burnable debris piles throughout Hackleburg were combined, the pile would be as large as a professional football field, and a mile high. According to Beth, my original contact person, as of that same Friday, only about half the clean up was done.

At the Volunteer Sign In Station, we filled out required paperwork, got our I.D. badges and were immediately assigned to the food tent. We laughed and asked if it would be all right for us to take a 20 minute break before we started, as we had just driven eight hours to get there. They asked if we wouldn’t rather just start in the morning, but we hadn’t gone to Alabama to sit back, we went there to work. After catching our breath and cooling off for just under 20 minutes (our van air conditioner doesn’t work), we entered the food tent for our assignments. I began serving food to volunteers who were returning from their long day’s work. These volunteers were soaked with sweat, dirty as can be, and very hungry. Clara, a resident volunteer, and I heaped food onto their plates and smiled to one another each time we were blessed with serving these good souls. My husband was assigned a hotter task than I, he was helping with the cooking of the food. A Methodist mission group from the Lexington, KY, area, consisting of a husband and wife, their 17 year old son, another young man, and Billy the helper. I will forever remember Billy’s favorite saying: “It will all work out”. I heard him use this saying more than a few times, and each time, things did work out.

The mission group had brought a large trailer carrying a gas grill, tables, a generator and literally tons of food in a semi-trailer. Two large smokers had been donated from someone in the area, and this group of five had been cooking three weeks straight, three meals a day, for upwards of 500 people per meal, and cleaning up after each meal, too. They were, needless to say, thankful for T’s appearance in their “kitchen”. In addition to the volunteer meals, “to go” containers were readied for the senior citizens of Hackleburg. That food tent was the only place in town to get a hot meal.

My workday ended after 9:30 pm, after all had been fed, and all had been cleaned up and readied for the next day. Before we left the tent, T was asked to work security on the grounds, and even though worn out from the drive and the duties assigned him upon arrival, he heartily consented. The grounds were basically comprised of semi-trailers, most with refrigerating capabilities, full of food and ice, others filled with donated supplies yet to be used, still others carried several huge generators, to power the cooling system for the dining tent. There was an AEMA (Alabama Emergency Management Agency) trailer, supply tent, cook tent, and several other facilities of unknown purpose. Police frequently patrolled the area, but they always feel better knowing there is a “man on the ground” at all times. T’s workday ended at 3:30 am.

The next morning we went to do the required daily sign-in, and found that no one was working the tent. Again I called Beth, and she asked if T and I would work at the tent, signing in volunteers, making sure paperwork was filled out, arm bands were labeled and worn, etc. Wherever we were needed, that’s where we wanted to be. Hour after hour we signed in volunteers, took work requests from residents, and matched up need to assistance. We even signed in three people from Lincoln, Illinois, who had come to help. They were immediately dispatched to get pet and livestock feed from a donor 20 miles up Highway 17, to care for those animals found after the storm, but not yet matched up with their owners.

At the sign in tent, we met a young local man named Jamie. He agreed to take me on a driving tour, so that I could videotape the tornado’s aftermath. I left T to handle the tent alone, and got into Jamie’s mini van. A huge, aluminum extension ladder was between the seats, and ran from front glass to rear. He had been out looking for a mobile home that needed a tarp put on its roof, but had been unable to find it. Keep in mind that the population in Hackleburg is very similar to Bridgeport or Sumner, however, the city limits is comprised of 15 square miles, in comparison to Bridgeport which has a 1.1 square mile area.

As Jamie and I left the volunteer station, I was under the impression that we were a fair distance from the destruction, as none could be seen from where we were staying. One turn and less than a quarter mile down the road, the destruction was playing out through the windshield, like it had played on the computer screen when I saw it on YouTube. On the left were the remains of the Church of God of Prophecy. It had been a new metal building, green roof, white sides, with vestibule in center and smaller sections on either side, and a huge fellowship hall toward the back. All that was left standing was the front sections, though damaged beyond being saved. The fellowship hall was completely destroyed to an indescribable scene of twisted girders and indistinguishable rubble.

We drove past the elementary and middle schools. Both were completely destroyed, as was the high school. Jamie pointed out what had been here and there, but it would take a local to be able to tell that anything had been there at all. Everything was being bulldozed to the side of the roads, so crews with heavy equipment could load it up and haul it off. Areas that looked like nothing but bare, or sparsely forested areas, were once groups of homes. Here and there you could see a house’s foundation, but more often, the house was lifted, foundation and all. As we drove past what had been his pastor’s house, he told me that the pastor had been out of town on April 27, and that the tornado took not only his entire house, but his storm shelter roof, as well, all 5000 pounds of it.

The tiny “downtown” area of Hackleburg had already been cleared of debris. The Piggly Wiggly grocery store, the Dollar General Store, the doctor’s office and pharmacy, were now just a deserted concrete slab. We had many residents tell us that the town looked 90% better than it did after the tornado. To me the clean up looked like several more months to completion, however the locals are pushing, and hoping, for the end of July.

It is difficult to fully describe what I saw on this 20 minute driving tour. Things I’ve never seen before, and hope to never see again. Heavy equipment, piles of debris, downed trees, and the same glazed look on the faces of both locals and volunteers. I was there, I saw it, but I still can’t fully comprehend just what I saw. I am not a writer. When I sat down to compose this piece, I had high hopes that I might be able to recount the sites, sounds and emotions that I experienced. I know in my heart I have fallen short in that endeavor, however, that is of little consequence, for all that I experienced in Hackleburg, Alabama, is embedded in my heart and mind, and shall remain there all the days of my life.

On a brighter note, while Jamie and I were out, we located the mobile home and got the tarp on the roof, so the family could move back into the damaged part of the trailer.

We got back to the volunteer station way later than both T and I expected. While I was gone, T had met with the representative from U.S. Steel, the project assignment director of the Christian Ministries Disaster Relief Association, had met a local lady, distraught over having to have her house pushed to the curb. This cannot be an easy thing to have to arrange. She had a four year old daughter, a two year old son, a baby on the way, and her husband was serving in Afghanistan. She had signed up on the second day that the crews were in her block, but her house was overlooked. This was the final day for her to have it removed pro bono. T arranged with Mike, from U.S. Steel, to have the house moved, despite the fact that the U.S. Steel crew was working on another location. As the lady was walking away with Mike, a battered pickup truck pulled into the parking lot. T said he couldn’t believe it was on the road. A young man and two small children walked up to the sign in table. He questioned T about when and how to sign up, and explained that he was a 100% disabled veteran, and that he couldn’t work that day because he had the children with him. T told me he had a probably three inch difference from hip to hip, and had such an unusual walk, that he was amazed he could walk at all. This young man, a local, detailed his experience on April 27: He and the children had been on Main Street when the EF 5 monster hit. He was pulling out of a side street, and checking for traffic. First he looked over his left shoulder and there was nothing there, then he looked to the right. He heard a sound, he didn’t know if it was a siren or the actual tornado itself, he just remembered hearing a sound. Then he saw the tornado. It hit the truck and rolled it down Main Street. He didn’t know the number of times the truck had been rolled over, but it ended up on its side. The driver’s side door would open and he lifted his children out. Thankfully, he said, he was wearing a seat belt and the children were in car seats. He broke down at this point in time, and started crying. He said, “I’ve lived here all my life. It’s been almost a month, and this is the first time I’ve come to volunteer.” He went on to say that he had wanted to volunteer countless times, but just couldn’t bring himself to do so. He accounted how, when the immediate shock wore off of what had just happened, the first thing that he, and his children alike, saw were mangled bodies, some completely naked, even pulled out of their shoes by the tornado. My husband suggested that he should wait perhaps a bit longer to volunteer. T assured him it had nothing to do with his disability, as there were a ton of jobs that he could do, in fact, there were people working in wheelchairs. It was just T’s opinion that he had been through enough, and was better off spending the time with his children.

It was while I was gone that word reached the volunteer station about the Joplin, Missouri, tornado. All people in the volunteer area started praying for the people in Joplin. Here are people who have lost everything, taking time to pray for others in the same situation they found themselves in less than a month earlier.

As the workday drew nearer to a close, we were informed that the volunteer effort was changing from individuals to organizations, whether they be private or governmental. The volunteer program we came to join was disbanding, for the most part. There was sadness in our hearts, and regrets that we came so late, as to miss out on the immediate needs of Hackleburg. We were faced with the difficult decision of whether to spend yet another night, or to leave out and drive home through the night. A phone call from our daughter told us of the terrible storm here at home that day, and our decision was made immediately. T went to pack the van, while I worked the sign in tent, and find our replacements. Billy was at the tent, in his American flag shorts, and said “It will all work out………I’ll work the tent for ya……… will all work out, go on home”. We said our good-bys. There were smiles, handshakes, hugs, and plenty of tears. I regret not getting to meet Beth, but she had been assigned to work the call station and wouldn’t be at our location until the next day. I had brought her a desk plaque with the inscription “Faith is daring the soul to believe beyond what the eye can see”. I put our names, the dates we were there, and Bridgeport, Illinois on the back. Luckily a nice lady volunteered to deliver it to Beth for me.

We left Hackleburg around 3:00 pm, and headed north, and home. The drive back was going very well, and T and I talked non-stop about our time in “Bama”. We reached Clarksville, Tennessee, and the sky was getting dark. Just then, the weather alarm went off on the van’s radio. It was a severe thunderstorm watch. The rain fell in buckets, to the point of barely being able to keep driving, and the wind was making it difficult to keep the van on the road. Less than 4 minutes after the thunderstorm watch was issued, another alarm sounded. This time it was a tornado warning. We pulled into a gas station, as we were nearly on empty from driving too fast for conditions just to try and outrun the tornado that was chasing us almost as fast as we were driving. When we were in the station, thinking maybe it was a good place to sit it out for a while, the attendants told us the tornado was still coming, and that we’d best get back in our van and head north. We took their advice. The tornado chased us to Hopkinsville, Kentucky. Lucky for us, not so lucky for others, the tornado changed direction, and headed toward southeast Indiana, where it later touched down.

We arrived home just after 11:00, glad to be home, and glad to see our daughter. The very next day, the day we were scheduled to come home, the NWS issued the fifth “severe risk day” warning of the year, which included Lawrence County. The prior four severe risk days had produced multiple violent, and huge, tornadoes. What this means is, had we stayed in Alabama and driven home on Wednesday, we would have passed through the severe risk area, and several tornadoes. It was a tense time here, that’s for sure, but despite a severe storm, no tornadoes caused severe damage in our immediate area.

I thank the Sumner Press for giving me the opportunity to share our story about Hackleburg, Alabama. Please remember that Hackleburg was only one town to be hit on April 27, 2011. I did not aim, nor intend, to single out Hackleburg as the only damaged place, or the only place where care and concern were needed. The outbreak of April 25-28, 2011, killed at least 344 people, according to Wikipedia, in 21 states, from Texas to New York, and there are still people missing. Alabama alone lost 238 people.

“In every person’s life there are dates, times and places that will always be remembered. For the most part, these remembrances are of the nature of weddings, births of children and grandchildren, and yes, the loss of a loved one. To me, personally, there are two dates and places that I shall never forget, those being Guin, Alabama, April 3, 1974, and Hackleburg, Alabama, April 27, 2011. Two tiny towns, 22 miles apart, surrounded by pine covered mountains, red dirt and rock; forever changed, yet filled with good people of faith, fortitude, and the will to rebuild and prosper. Like a Phoenix rising, let they be an example to us all.” T Warren

Hackleburg Tornado Damage

Monday, June 06, 2011

Memories Evoked by Old South’s New Flag

Part 4 of a 4 part series

by Joan Hough

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.
(John 8:32)

By the act of purchasing the wonderful, wonderful new POW-MIA flag and by calling its existence to the attention of others, anyone can join with the members of Dixie Defenders Camp No. 2086 and aid God by disseminating and reminding readers of Confederate truth.

Deo Vindice

One of the most poignantly meaningful attributes of the new flag is found on its great seal where inscribed are the words--"Deo Vindice." According to the message accompanying the flag, these words are defined by the designer to mean "God Vindicates."

The American Heritage Dictionary defines: "vindicate" as:

1. to clear of accusation, blame, suspicion, or doubt with supporting arguments or proof

2. to prove justification or support for

3. to justify or prove the worth of, especially in light of later developments

4. to defend, maintain, or insist on the recognition of

5. TO EXACT REVENGE FOR--TO AVENGE [emphasis added]

The American Heritage Dictionary defines “avenge” as:

1. to inflict a punishment or penalty in return for; revenge

2. to take vengeance on behalf of

3. from the Latin—to vindicate

Interestingly, four definitions of Deo Vindice given us by a Latin scholar are:

1. Where God is the Avenger 2. Because God is the champion 3. With God as our Avenger 4. God, the origin of our defender.

A Sweet Form of Confederate Vengeance

The telling of the Confederate truth is one of the sweetest forms of vengeance and of the very type that surely the good Lord would approve.

The idea of such truth-telling is captured in the words presented in the bit of verse below (just a portion of a poem) as an important idea in the battle to right Yankee wrongs.

Both Avenger meanings-- “one who revenges” and “defender”—as the definition of Vindice in the following bit of verse. “What was” refers to the Radical’s anti-Confederate propaganda. “What is” tells that it is still ongoing.

Heavy, heavy is my heart,
Tears course down,
Down this Southern face,
Yes, I weep because I know,
Oh, God do I know!

Oh, anguish! I know the truth,
It strikes me with its too sharp point,
Strikes deep in the heart of me,
It tears my soul, it clouds my reason,
Lying enemies accused my kin of treason.

That enemy of my kin is mine
Always and forever,
As the cross is my sign,
How long must what was remain an is?
How can what was, and still is hurt so much?

I hear a long dead whisper,
Feel a long death touch,
Hear a long dead plea,
“Is this too much?
“Seek vengeance, seek it for me,
At least make liars forsake the lie
And with truth testify.”

But how can I obtain what truth needs
When none with U.S. power heeds?
“Vengeance is mine,” saith the Lord,
“Deo Vindice, Deo Vindice,”

But how can I obtain what truth needs
When none with U.S. power heeds?
:Vengeance is mine,” saith the Lord,
“Deo Vindice, Deo Vindice.”
But I must add
“Let Vindice be aided by me.”

This poem by Joan Hough may be read in its three part entirety –one part on each of the following sites.

(Flag purchase information at

Memories Evoked by the Old South’s New Flag

Part Three of a Four Part Commentary

By Joan Hough

More on The Retaliation Program

The beautiful new Confederate POW-MIA flag is dedicated to all Confederates who fought, all who were imprisoned, all who died and all civilians who died/suffered/or were imprisoned. These brave Southerners continue to cry out from their graves that the truth about that war against them be told, that the real perpetrators of horrors be revealed and their motives and actions be made known to all Americans. This, then, is the purpose of the following commentary:

Beginning in the mid eighteen hundreds, there was a major influence on the U.S. government by Marxist-Republican-Radicals. It becomes obvious, when one learns the identities of the major Marxists/Communists in the U.S. in that time, that some of them were initially responsible for the creation of the RETALIATION PROGRAM the U.S. Congress put into place in all Union prisons for Confederates.

The creators of the Retaliation Program were sadistic monsters and masters of propaganda. Their propaganda not only motivated the creation and installation of the Program, but convinced the north's citizens to want it as a justified treatment for decadent, despicable, depraved, fiendish Southerners. Some of the Radicals' propaganda then crept into the minds of nearly ALL Americans and sits there still, occasionally spilling out in books or from professors’ mouths.

The First 13th Amendment Ratified by Three States

The probability is that Marxist propaganda gave wings to General Sherman’s desire to deal death to Southern women and their children. Some of that propaganda is still found on the lips of modern politicians (even Southern ones) and is prattled about in positive tones by most journalists, by folks in a “Glenn Beck profession,” and by many Southerners who continue declaring that the war was fought by the north to free the slaves, and by the south, to keep slavery forever. They all appear ignorant of the truth that Lincoln and his Republicans promised slavery forever to the South if Southerners would only pay the tariffs and give the north all the bucks it wanted for internal improvements. Congress supported Lincoln’s promise with the passage of a new laws, that had the South agreed to pay the tariff, and accept them, would have become the 13th Amendment. This amendment was the original Thirteenth Amendment. Named the Corwin Amendment of 1861, it was passed by both houses, and ratified by Illinois, Ohio, and Maryland. Although still on the books, implementation of it was halted when the South refused to pay the “Dane geld” and support the north’s programs of internal improvement “which were nothing more than corporate subsidies that were awarded to a select few, well connected, individuals or businesses for building canals, railroads, and roadways.”

The internal improvement system was to provide protective tariffs that would ultimately help only the Northern merchants. The South was aghast when it wound up paying 90 percent of the tariffs. Secession resulted because the Whig/Republican Party’s political agenda of “protectionism, government control of the money supply through a nationalized banking system, and government subsides for railroad, shipping and canal-building business (‘internal improvements’) simply became more than the South could handle without becoming bankrupt and impoverished.

Communist Propaganda= Virulent Hatred

The stakes were extremely high for the Radicals because even then their “New World Order” was in the game plan—only by a different name. They required the public’s support of their plan if they were to achieve its first step which was the total destruction of the South, the elimination of Constitutional government, the erasing of States Rights, the reduction of Southern religious influence, and the building of an all-powerful, central U.S. government.

In order to obtain the northern public’s support of their agenda, the Radicals employed a secret weapon--that weapon was wartime propaganda. With it they fine- tuned Northern public opinion until it reached the Marxist’ own high level of unrelieved hate. To accomplish this, they called into action their biggest and best propagandists.

Most Americans fail to recall that Sherman’s hatred was so virulent and his sense of human decency, so limited that he, in mad man fashion, waged war primarily on women, children, old folks, sick folks, and inanimate buildings, especially the homes of the defenseless. He burned the civilians out of their homes and destroyed all their animals, and all the food in their houses and in their fields and gardens, leaving all civilians [even babies] to die from slow starvation. Only on rare occasions did he take his troops filled with many European-German foreigners into battle against folks capable of defending themselves—such as when he, joined by other Union troops, fought Southern men in Vicksburg. It seems political correct Americans have selectively remembered Sherman’s words and actions or have deliberately chosen to forget that he said, “There is a class of people, men, women and children, who must be killed or banished before you can hope for peace, and order, even as far south as Tennessee.”

One cannot avoid associating the great New York Tribune propagandist-managing editor with the Republicans remarkably clever propaganda. As you may recall, Charles A. Dana, the Tribune's renowned editor and part owner, was not only the Assistant Secretary of War, but was a known intimate of Karl Marx. Marx was even employed by Dana. Dana traveled about collecting ideas and reporting them to Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Of course Stanton made use of his subordinate, Dana’s journalistic-writing expertise. Stanton cranked out huge amounts of vicious, virulent, anti-South,” kill all Southerners” propaganda, but it, obviously, was Dana who was the King-pin, imaginative writer-creator of the most successful of the Stanton issued horror tales presenting Southerners to the north’s public, as brooding, obnoxious, slave beating degenerates. Dana was, after all a professional writer—Stanton was not. Dana was the one with the accomplished propaganda skills, so had high value to Stanton who was deeply involved in the business of propagandizing. Dana’s type of written brainwash was not subtle, was not pretty, but was utterly successful. His work was likely to have inspired a number of Communist-infiltrated groups to involve themselves in the creation and dissemination of lies about Confederates.

Strange, is it not, how all historians have omitted the Master propagandist Republican Dana's responsibility for any of the humongous cruelties created via the Retaliation Program. One would think that the results of all that propaganda--the Congressional approved actions resulting in the tortures and murders of thousands of Confederates in the one hundred and six Union prisons would still be read and studied in the tax paid for history books of children today.

How sad it is that the Republican Party’s past efforts have been so sugar- coated and so concealed by lies that Lincoln cultist authors continually obtain contracts with publishers and fill American schools and book sellers’ shop with scores of new, brightly covered, Lincoln and Sherman aggrandizing tomes containing not a single word about the treatment the Republicans showered upon all of the Confederate prisoners, but pages of lies and more lies about Andersonville, the South’s prison for Union men.

The Republicans with their proud Lincoln roots and their Democratic sycophants have done their utmost to keep Americans from ever learning the truth. They must know that only when more Americans know the truth will it be possible for all Americans to be free from the evils in the all powerful central, unintended by America’s forefathers, unconstitutional government which is still in existence.

Walter D. Kennedy and Al Benson, Jr., Red Republicans and Lincoln’s Marxists: Marxism in the Civil War. (New York. iUniverse, Inc., 2007), p.

Gordon Leidner, “The Thirteenth Amendment,”

James E. Stallings, Sr. p. xix.

James E. Stallings, Sr. p. xix.

Thomas J. DiLorenzo, The Real Lincoln, (New York. Three Rivers, 2003), p. 54.

Frank Conner, The South Under Siege 1830-2000: A History of the Relations between the North and South (Newman, Georgia. Collards, 2002), p. 1.

Frank Conner, p. 172.

Frank Conner, p. 143.

Mary Deborah Petite. p. 66.

Walter D. Kennedy and Al Benson, Jr., Red Republicans and Lincoln’s Marxists: Marxism in the Civil War. (New York. iUniverse, Inc., 2007), p. 99.

James E. Stallings, Sr., p. xiv.

(Flag purchase information is available at

Memories Evoked by the Old South’s New Flag

Part Two of a Four Part Commentary

by Joan Hough


The Old South’s new flag represents all Confederates imprisoned or dead in Union prisons, all Confederate warriors and all civilians killed during and after the war. Some Southerners see this flag, also, as a poignant reminder of all that Reconstruction was, of all that Confederates lost and all the sufferings experienced by those captured civilians and x-military who were imprisoned, not in a formal prison, but in their own Southern state itself because of the Marxist-Republicans’ program of Reconstruction.

All true Southerners, white ones, brown ones, black ones, red ones—no matter their ages, were, definitely, imprisoned by the U.S. government when all folks in every Southern state became slaves under the total control of the U.S. government’s military leaders. Torture and death could be administered to Confederates during Reconstruction at any time on the slightest whim of any General assigned as the controller of a Southern district. Extortion of Southerners was almost routine. The U.S. Republican-controlled government taxed all true Southerners into poverty and destitution, thus virtually enslaving everyone with any connection with anyone who wore the gray. Even General Sherman and his Republican Senator brother profited economically from dirt cheap Southerners’ lands’ “taxed away by the victors.

The Holocaust

During the war, a true Holocaust was perpetrated by Generals Sherman, Sheridan, Sheridan, Grant and others acting under the auspices and approval of Lincoln, his Marxist- Radical Republicans and the crazed abolitionist -- Democrats. Their acts of genocide and war crimes are still being praised by authors crying out the usual politically correct lies, as seen in the words of biographer Fellman: “Witnessing Sherman’s ever-advancing, seemingly unstoppable, increasingly destructive army undoubtedly was a major fact that caused the Southerners to lose heart, thus leading toward the end of the war. This furious man, with his considerable terrorist capabilities, may have been effective in ending the way in a way more forgiving or at least more limited approaches to fighting the war had not achieved.” [emphasis added]

This new flag is not yet possessed by most Confederate descendants, but the good Lord knows it should be, Folks, no matter where they live, who honor their Confederate lineage should acquire this amazing reminder of the sacrifices made by Southern families. The flag is available in both large and small sizes. Purchase information can be obtained at:

A fascinating article about this new flag was written by Kenn Lightfoot of the Dixie Defenders 2096. In it Lightfoot calls attention to the large numbers of imprisoned Confederate black soldiers, Confederate Indian soldiers, and Confederate white soldiers who met their deaths due to the direct policies of Mr. Lincoln, his Republican Congress, and his leaders in the U.S. military. Lightfoot details some of the agonies inflicted on our imprisoned Confederates by the order of Congress with Lincoln’s approval.


While reading Lightfoot’s words, some will recall that many or most of Lincoln’s congressmen, his military leaders, and his appointees were Republican Party Radicals whom some serious scholars are now identifying as "Communists.” Among this bunch was an American born Socialist-Communist by name of Charles Dana.

It defies all logic to see Charles Dana, Mr. Lincoln’s Assistant Secretary of War—Secretary of War Stanton’s right hand man and chief propagandist, as anything except a Communist. “Communist sympathizer” or “fellow traveler” is too mild a term for such a man.

Retaliation Program of Northern Vengeance

For want of meat,
The dog was eat.
(posted on bulletin board by prisoner at Camp Douglas)

The U.S. government's official program of RETALIATION which started in the summer of 1863, was responsible for an enormous amount of deaths of helpless, imprisoned Southerners. (Was 1863 when the North was losing the war? Even a biased Sherman biographer wrote that in 1864 the morale of Union troops was at an all time low.)

Because of the policy of "Retaliation," horrendous, undeniable evils were committed by the people of the north living in a veritable land of plenty, a land filled with PLENTY--plenty of food, plenty of clothing, plenty of shoes, plenty of blankets, plenty of firewood, plenty of building materials, plenty of medicines, plenty of ways and means to build warm barracks, plenty of high ground to build barracks on, plenty of fresh, uncontaminated water, plenty of physicians and plenty of folks conditioned by clever Marxist-designed propaganda to hate Southerners.

Due to their unquestioning acceptance of superbly invented lies as truth, northerners believed Union soldiers were cruelly tortured by the South. Just as desired by the Marxist lie creators, northerners approved, allowed to be implemented, and even found entertaining torturous treatment of incarcerated, totally helpless Confederates — many of the soldier boys just boys of age fourteen. Northerners became convinced that it was justifiable for Southern men and boys to be forced to freeze to death-by removing blankets or having to strip nude and go out in the snow in below zero weather to take care of bodily needs at night—diarrhea meant freezing. Prisoners were deliberately forced to suffer hideous, easily preventable diseases (such as diet caused scurvy which caused lips and teeth to fall out). Thousands starved to death. Prisoners were deliberately exposed to small pox and used in an early form of biological warfare. Northerners, moral, pious do-gooders that they were, found no fault with prison programs that caused defenseless Confederates to die from “poisoned” water (polluted by raw sewage, etc.) and from forced sleeping on floors covered in cold water and the shooting of numbers of prisoners (always declared accidental, of course) causing their deaths. Northerners were primed to find it amusing when Southerners were beaten with clubs, tortured to death or deliberately murdered.

Proof of this was, certainly evident at Camp Douglas prison when crowds of citizen-onlookers brought picnic lunches to eat as they gawked at mistreated Confederates riding the 2x4 board “mule” or standing barefoot in the snow, hanging from their thumbs, catching and eating rats, and even dogs and cats, maybe even seated sans pants and underpants on ice, forced to stand barefoot in snow for hours, or otherwise experiencing humiliation or death- giving punishment. At Camp Douglas, 20 men were forced to share 6 knives and forks ; 120 men had to share 20 tin cups. Some men were made to wear chains attached to heavy metal balls.

Evidently moral northerners were as entranced by these sights as if they watched any circus tent show or were Romans enjoying the actions in the coliseum. Undoubtedly these sight-seeing humans gave no thought to how similar they were to those folks in other far away “civilized nations” –folks who hastened to the live entertainment offered by the dancing on air--the kicking and writhing of folks being hung for imaginary crimes or crimes as slight as the stealing by a starving man of a loaf of bread for his starving children.

Some Americans may think that Yankees should be excused for their beliefs and their actions because of the avalanche of mind-boggling propaganda to which northerners were subjected — because, after all, some of the imprisoned Confederates were brainwashed into joining the Union’s army, in the west. It is true that a few Confederates did succumb to brainwashing, but only a very, very few despite the fact that all prisoners, once Retribution began, were treated in ways that, it is now realized, approximate at least some of the torture-type brain wash methods later employed, with a few Pavlovian embellishments, on American military captives in Korea and Viet Nam.

The big difference in the “Uncivil” War period and more modern “police action undeclared wars” is that there were few Confederates who ratted on their own kind. None gave propaganda speeches to his fellows, and none of the Southerner- converts to the Union went on to become a U.S. Senator and head a Senatorial Committee which kept parents from learning truths about their missing-in-action sons and the details of the Senator’s own treasonous aid to America’s Communist enemies. No Southerner after his stint in the hands of his enemies, in a fit of anger turned his back on his fellow soldiers’ weeping relatives and walked out on them, rather than tell the truth about their loved ones. And none of those Yankee-made "converts" was then selected by some grand old Party as the Republican candidate for the Presidency.

Michael Fellman, A Life of William Tecumseh Sherman: Citizen Sherman, (Laurence, Kansas: University Press of Kansas, 1995. Reprinted 1997, Random House, Inc.), p. 182.

Ken Lightfoot. Ibid.

Walter D. Kennedy and Al Benson, Jr., Red Republicans and Lincoln’s Marxists: Marxism in the Civil War (New York: iUniverse, Inc 2007)pp. 196; 140..

Roger Pickenpaugh, Captives in Gray: The Civil War Prisons of the Union ( Tuscaloosa: The University of Alabama Press, 2009), p. 194.

Roger Pickenpaugh, p. 158.

Michael Fellman. Work cited.

Roger Pickenpaugh, p. 141-143.

Kelly Pucci, p. 62.

James E. Stallings, Sr., p, xxv.

James E. Stallings, Sr., p. 81.

Roger Pickenpaugh, p. 180.

Edward Hunter, Brainwashing from Pavlov to Powers (Linden, New Jersey: Reprinted by The Bookmailer 1960, originally printed by Farrar, Straus & Cudahy).

(Flag purchase information at

Memories Evoked by the Old South’s New Flag

(Part One of a Four Part Commentary)

by Joan Hough

It is with pleasure that I report that I have received an absolutely gorgeous Confederate POW-MIA “Ladder to Heaven-farewell” flag. Pictures of it failed to reveal its true beauty, so I had anticipated neither its array of colors nor its remarkable design. It is spectacular.

Flag purchase information is available at

Dedicated to the memory of those who died and those who survived in Mr. Lincoln’s prison camps, this beautiful flag represents all imprisoned Confederates, as well as all Confederate combatants and all Southern civilians (50,000 or more) killed by the Union Army.

I bought this flag in memory of all Confederates, including my very own bone of my bone, blood of my blood, Confederate kin folks—beginning with my cousins, Sam and George Mullinax, and their soldier father, Matthew. George was killed at Second Manassas. Sam was, imprisoned, tortured and murdered at Camp Douglas in Lincoln’s Chicago. The two Mullinax sons were Houghs through their mother Henrietta Hough. Cousin Sam’s body was lost along with thousands of others at Camp Douglas. Our family fears that part of him had popped up through the ground in the driveway of a business next to the Chicago swamp where so many confederate bodies were dumped—or that his young body wound up on one of the northwest medical schools’ dissection tables. His name was not placed on the Memorial monument dedicated by the United Daughters of the Confederacy, but is listed elsewhere. (Fifty percent of all who died at Camp Douglas had their bodies disappear. “During the existence of Camp Douglas prison at least six thousand prisoners perished.” One Civil War prison historian reported, “After the Civil War ended, Chicago faced the problem of disposing of more than 6,000 bodies of Confederate soldiers. . . because no cemetery in Chicago wanted Confederate soldiers buried in its soil, Oak Woods Cemetery, which was outside the city limits at the time, was selected. ..the names of the dead did not appear on the grave site until mandated by federal legislation in 1912.” There is no list containing the names of all the dead.

For me, our South’s new flag, in addition, represents a great, great grandfather of mine, David W. Sedberry who, after being imprisoned in two Yankee prisons, eventually walked home on bare and bleeding feet from Point Lookout to North Carolina. His first imprisonment was in Washington, D.C. on the site where the Supreme Court now meets.

`When I look at this flag I also think of my children’s gggreat grandfather, General Leroy Augustus Stafford, who died bravely at the Battle of the Wilderness, leaving fatherless ten offspring. Next comes to my mind, my great grandfather Henry Clay Hough, who at age seventeen was buried in Vicksburg by cannon balls, dug himself out, then captured and sick, was sent by Sherman and Grant to the hospital in Shreveport. He, still ill, immediately joined fellow soldiers there, helped build “Fort Humbug,” and then waited in vain to fight the Yankees again.

The flag certainly reminds me of my great uncle, John C. Hough. Captured twice by the Yankees, he was left semi-blind after eighteen months of imprisonment in Illinois at Rock Island.

Like thousands of fine Southern men, my relatives listed here and numerous others of my blood lost either their lives or a vast part of their health and their worldly goods at the hands of Marxist-Communist inspired Invaders from the north. Despite this loss, we in my family considered ourselves lucky that our women and children were not burned out of our houses, shot down in the road, and were not forced to beg strangers for food, but could still dig some out of the good Louisiana dirt. We are thankful that, unlike more than two thousand young women and little children captured by Sherman in Georgia’s Roswell and New Manchester, our family members were not shipped into white slavery in the north. Most of the captured Georgians remain lost until this very day, for they, neither alive nor dead, ever returned home again. Surely, memory of them should live on in our old South’s new flag.

Ken Lightfoot. “Narrative: Confederate POW-MIA Flag: A brief overview of confederates in Union POW camps,” (Unpublished paper circulated by the Dixie Defenders, Georgia, 2011).

James E. Stallings, Sr. Georgia’s Confederate Soldiers Who Died as Prisoners of War: and Angels did attend and comfort them, (Saline, MI, , McNaughton & Gunn, 2008), p. 83.

James E. Stallings, Sr., p. 82.

Kelly Pucci, Camp Douglas: Chicago’s Civil War Prison ( Charleston, South Carolina: Acadia Publishing, 2007), p. 101.

James Ronald Kennedy and Walter Donald Kennedy. The South Was Right (Gretna: Pelican, 1998), pp. 123-124.

Mary Deborah Petite, The Women Will Howl (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 2008), p. 155.

Wednesday, June 01, 2011

June 4, 1914 Dedication of Confederate Monument

By Calvin E. Johnson, Jr., Speaker, Writer, Author of book “When America Stood for God, Family and Country” and member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans.

While they lived, few criticized the men of Union Blue and Confederate Gray.

Let me tell you of the Arlington National Cemetery where this nation honored the men who fought for the Confederacy, the Union and those men and women who fought our nations' wars since the War Between the States.

Did you know there are 245,000 service men and women, including their families, buried at Arlington?

The world famous Arlington National Cemetery is located in the shadow of the Custis-Lee Mansion (Arlington House) that was home to General Robert E. Lee and family until 1861 at the beginning of the War Between the States. This cemetery is on the Virginia side of the Potomac River across from the nation's capital.

In 1864, Union soldiers were first buried here and by the end of the war the number rose to 16,000.

The Union burial site at Arlington National Cemetery is at section 13. Also buried in Arlington include: President John F. Kennedy, General Jonathan M. Wainwright and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

Around the start of the 20th century this country also honored the men who fought for the Confederacy. This site of men who fought for "Dixie" is located in section 16.

There is an inscription on the 32.5 foot high Confederate monument at Arlington National Cemetery that reads, "A Obedience To Duty As They Understood it; These Men Suffered All; Sacrificed All and Died!

Some claim this Confederate Monument at Arlington may have been the first to honor Black Confederates. Carved on this monument is the depiction of a Black Confederate who is marching in step with the White soldiers. Also shown is a White Confederate who gives his child to a Black woman for safe keeping.

In 1898, President William McKinley, a former Union soldier spoke in Atlanta, Georgia and said, " In the spirit of Fraternity it was time for the North to share in the care of the graves of former Confederate soldiers.

In consequence to his speech, by Act of the United States Congress, a portion of Arlington National Cemetery was set aside for the burial of Confederate soldiers. At this time 267 Confederate remains from and near Washington were removed and re-interred at this new site.

In 1906, the United Daughters of the Confederacy asked permission from William Howard Taft to erect a monument. Taft was at the time serving as the United States Secretary of War and was in charge of National Cemeteries.

With permission the Arlington Confederate Memorial Association was formed and the United Daughters of the Confederacy was given authority to oversee work on the monument.

An agreement and contract was made with Sir Moses Ezekiel who was a Jewish Confederate Veteran by the record of his service at the Battle of New Market while he was a Cadet at Virginia Military Institute. Work started at his workshop in Italy in 1910, and upon his death in 1917, the Great Sculptor, was brought back home and buried near the base of the Arlington Confederate Monument.

Sir Moses Ezekiel was honored in his life by being Knighted by the German and Italian Governments.

On June 4, 1914, the Arlington monument was unveiled to a crowd of thousands that included former Confederate and Union soldiers.

The Memorial Event was presided over by President Woodrow Wilson and the people applauded the stirring speeches given by: General Bennett H. Young- Commander In Chief of the United Confederate Veterans; General Washington Gardner-Commander In Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic and Colonel Robert E. Lee - grandson of General Lee.

The Confederate monument unveiling was concluded by a 21 gun salute and the Arlington monument was officially given to the United Daughters of the Confederacy and was given back to the U.S. War Department for keeping and accepted by President Woodrow Wilson who said:

"I am not so happy as PROUD to participate in this capacity on such an occasion, Proud that I represent such a people."

Since Woodrow Wilson, wreathes have been sent to both sections of Arlington, including the Confederate section, to honor those who died for freedom. Some Presidents have also spoken at Arlington on Confederate Memorial Day.
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