Better Late than Never

Better Late than Never

I’m sitting here in my kitchen with coffee and quiet to keep me company while the dulcet drones of distant snoring comes from another room (although he will deny that vehemently). My sister, Laurie asked for the link to this blog, and before I sent it, I read through the entries again, enjoying the ride but feeling a tad guilty that for two years in a row, I didn’t finish the task.

I give bloggers a lot of credit. It takes work, creativity, patience and gumption to write every day. And not just write, to really have something to say. 

So, six months late, here goes.

We did make it to Gettysburg on the last day of our 2011 Civil War Tour. After three days of rain and wind, the sun was (finally) shining, warm and bright. Jason shook his head in disbelief as we readied ourselves for the day, and asked how I conjured up the weather. I smiled. I couldn’t take any credit. Karma? Or perhaps it was my Band of Angels. It really didn’t matter. We were going.

Over the years, we’ve sideswiped Gettysburg. The first was a totally spontaneous afternoon ride on a June afternoon to test the durability of leather jackets and chaps, back the next morning.  It was the launching point, more or less, for the first Civil War Harley Tour in 2010; nothing more than dinner when we arrived and a brief stop at the Visitor’s Center in the morning to get our grandson, Zander, the first of the postcards we would send him daily.  This year, we actually changed our schedule to spend a day, one single day, in Gettysburg. A tease, perhaps, but I was willing to take what I could get.

I certainly can’t explain why I am fascinated with this little Pennsylvania town, a sleepy little place that changed the course of our country’s history. Nor can I explain why stories of the people and places that were such a big part of the Civil War continue to pique my interest. Me being me, and my convictions being my own, I would tell you I was there, in some way, shape or form, in a past life. This declaration, however, has others tell me I’m crazy.

You can’t see Gettysburg in a day. Well, you can, but not the way Jason and I like to see things. So, with a mere 7 hours, we needed to prioritize.  We decided that we would start with the Visitor’s Center and Museum, and go from there.

The Museum is amazing, housing the largest collection of Civil War relics and interactive displays in America. It is a solemn and sobering memorial to the people and families who were forever changed by those three days in July 1863, whether they were there in the midst of the fighting or on the periphery, huddled in their homes, listening to the battles rage across their farms and fields. And then there were those who were miles and miles away, waiting for news about their sons, husbands or brothers. They offer an amazing film, “A Birth of a New Nation”, which I would highly recommend to anyone. After that, we were awed by the restored Cyclorama. Paul Philippoteaux, a French artist, painted the Cyclorama in the late 1880’s. He spent months researching the battle, on the fields with photographers and veterans, and with his team, took a year to complete the oil painting, a massive representation (377 feet in circumference by 42 feet high) of Pickett’s Charge.

After spending almost half the day in the Museum, we decided that we wanted to see some of the battlefield and monuments too, and set out on the driving tour.

There are monuments to both Union and Confederate soldiers throughout the park, nearly 1,400 commemorations to the men who fought and died here. Most noteworthy for me was the Pennsylvania Memorial, a massive structure that identifies every soldier from the state to participate in the fighting over those three days. Jason’s two great great-grandfathers, Alvan D. Brock and Sobieski L. Chapin, both fought in the Civil War, but both enlisted after Gettysburg. However, three of his great uncles, Loren, Ira and Payson Burrit , brothers of his great grandmother, Lilian Burrit Brock, were actually there. Loren and Ira were members of Company K, 56^th Regiment; Payson, only 18 years old, was with the 143^rd Regiment, Company B. It was almost surreal to see their names emblazoned for all eternity on those bronze plaques.

Stand anywhere in the acres of preserved Battlefield and close your eyes. I swear you can hear the cannon booming, the guns firing, the deafening noise of war and the woeful sounds of death and dying all around you. We stood at the Union positions of, Little Round Top, Devil’s Den, the Peach Orchard and Cemetery Ridge where on July 3, under a deluge of artillery fire, 14,000 Confederate troops attacked the Union line. This fateful charge, known as Pickett’s Charge, sealed the Confederate defeat. After the three days of fighting, there were 51,000 casualties, and to this day, the Battle of Gettysburg remains the largest ever fought in North America.

Our short sojourn only whetted my appetite to learn more about the Battle, but more importantly, the people who were affected by it. We’ll go back (I’ve been promised) for a longer stay, but until then, I’ll continue to read and research and wonder.