I’m thankful to live close enough to our four grandchildren to get to see them fairly often. The two who live farthest away spent this week with us, a few precious days together to celebrate the end of summer. Yesterday it was time for them to go home. They start school on Monday, so their lives will require a return to routine, to keeping on schedule, to busy days filled with work and play and tired nights with early bedtimes. It’s always a period of transition, one that parents and kids alike must make. Even mimis and poppies make it, although their school days are several chapters ago. They still remember the excitement, the anticipation, the fresh feeling of a new teacher, a new year of learning new subjects and skills, new school shoes and school supplies…maybe new friends. They sort of miss it….sort of….

When we got back to the city, Mom was still working so we decided to visit a lovely park not far from where our girlies live. This rose garden is such a pretty place. Many weddings take place in this enchanted setting. The girls felt a little princess-y just being in the midst of such beauty.

Lucy unknowingly chose a dress that matched our outing.

Bees love roses, too.

Lucy took a picture of Emma and me.

And Emma took this one of Lucy and me.

It’s hard for Mimi to think of Emma looking so grown up.

Seems like she should be this size.

Instead, she’s showing signs of … leaving little-girlhood behind.

Little girls are so sweet.

And so are big ones.

Emma loved the yellow roses.

And Lucy liked the pink ones.

We all loved the red ones.

I wish I could borrow their gardener for a season.

By the end of our walk, we were all ready to jump in this fountain.

But we were proper ladies and refrained from such embarrassing behavior.

Little ladies grow up too quickly. Time stand still, please….I need more days like this one.

  I must have been day-dreaming…..

that day in history class, back in 1960-something. Maybe it was that I just didn’t think history was cool then, or perhaps the room was too warm and steamy and I was too sleepy to pay attention. Or….could it be that my teacher never mentioned it?? Upon reflection, that, I’m afraid, is what really happened.

I never remember hearing a teacher mention The Battle of Wilson’s Creek, an important Civil War battle that took place a mere couple of hours’ drive from where we live. The 150th anniversary of the battle was this weekend, and it was marked by a 3-day event bringing thousands and thousands of people to the park. Reenactors from many states came to portray what it was like on that hot August day in 1861 when the first important battle west of the Mississippi set the stage for the long period of hostility to come. They set up their primitive camps and put on their old-fashioned garb, saddled their horses and rode into battle. The difference is that the 2000-plus dead didn’t really die this time. In 1861, they did.

That’s right, there were more than 2000 killed in one six-hour period that day. Two thousand young men and boys and officers and helpers, dead at the end of the fighting, to be carried off the bloody field and buried. It must have been a most horrific sight. And of course, the worst part of the sad story is that they were all “our” boys and men.
 

Maybe that is why my teacher avoided the subject of such a terrible battle happening so close to home. It’s difficult to explain how that sort of tragedy could occur. Maybe he just didn’t want to think about it too long, afraid that giving it too much attention might bring the hostilities back to life.

He said he was a “loyal supporter of our president, Mr. Davis.”

But teaching history is telling it the way it really was, and this weekend the reenactment of the Battle of Wilson’s Creek told the history lesson in a graphic way; visitors could not fail to visualize how hot it was, how dusty, how difficult.

A few hours’ walk through the park gave us glimpses into camp life, with all its grit, as well as its lighter side.

Wilson’s Creek was the coolest place in the whole area.

 I’m sure the ones who got there first were happy to stake their claim on its banks.
 

Music

We were told that civilians “followed” the groups of soldiers and camped nearby. Some of them were probably family members, while others might have been displaced settlers who longed for protection.

She was sewing on buttons.

People were eager to try this campfire chicken and dressing, bubbling over the hot fire. Note how the corn is roasting beside the coals.

I hoped no important message was about to come through on the telegraph….

 

Sutlers were merchants who brought goods to sell to the military.

See the pretty Texas Star quilt under these handsewn shirts? It was quilted in blue thread and was very old–very unusual to see blue quilting in an old quilt.

Many of the uniforms were sewn from heavy wool.

These ladies, with their hoop skirts, looked like they were ready to go to a ball.

 

A baseball game played by 1860s rules was underway between a “real” team, the St. Louis Brown Stockings, and a ragtag group of militiamen.

Hay bales served as the backstop, and the umpire was known as the arbitor. If you hit a fly ball and the fielder caught it on one bounce, you were out–it was called a bound out. Gloves didn’t become a part of the game’s equipment for many more years.

A familiar face! Dan Keller, former Ozark Countian, brought a troup of Boy Scouts to be part of the reenactment. They were displaced settlers whose cabin had been shot up and burned, and they were on the run. If speaking with Confederates, they sympathized with the Rebels; if approached by Yankees, they were Union men. Above, that’s Elijah Keller, Keegan Mossman, and Dan in the tall hat.

And when we got so hot we thought we’d swoon, we sought shade and found…..

a couple more familiar faces! Fiddler Zack Yarger and Dobro player Tim Prososki were invited by the Peterson Family Band to join them for the afternoon, and we really enjoyed hearing our favorite bluegrass musicians in this setting. Zack sang a wonderful, melancholy song about an old slave looking for his master that seemed particularly appropriate for this setting.

One way the reenactment differed from the real thing: when the temperature in the afternoon began to really soar and our feet began to feel heavy, we hitched a ride on a hay wagon and left it all behind….the dust, the unrelenting heat, the prospect of a battle to come. But we took away memories and and a deeper appreciation for how it must have been that day in 1861….when the Battle of Wilson’s Creek set the tone for a dark spot in Missouri’s history, one that we need to know about, whether it was part of history class or not.