Showing posts from December, 2012
Home, The Best Place To Be!

Joab could see the lights of home,
back where life, he hoped,  
would take on 
a semblance of sanity. 
Back to the real place of peace. 
Memories of his childhood 
rushed him by surprise. 
He had not told Rachel 
exactly when he would return. 
But she knew it would be before 
Thanksgiving. He was certain 
Jonathan had taken care of 
the turkey and that Isaac and Jennie 
would help with the vegetables 
and Rachel … well Rachel 
would have everything under control.

He had left Aggie behind, a hard thing … possibly the hardest thing he had done, that is, since the war and all the death in his own family. Life, fragile at its best, had dealt Joab a few losses. He hoped Aggie would not be included. He could not bear to lose her, to death or for any other reason. He had experienced a fair measure of the brittle thread over the past few months. He thought—life is as fragile as Aggie. But she is beautiful, delicate, like a piece of lace or a crystal prism through which I see life a…
Holly Springs is a beautiful little town South of Memphis where Grant winter quartered in November and December of 1862. He brought his lovely wife, Julia, and his son those weeks he spent in North Mississippi, though they did not stay in the same house. Grant had work to do, but he missed them and took some risks with their safety to have them near him, in fact just a few houses down from him on Salem Street. His love of family brought out the human side of a man who, from a military perspective, was ruthless and heartless.

JOAB features the Union General that was most hated by the South, probably as much as the North hated our Robert E. Lee. But that was the hard cold facts of War. Those who gave the orders to kill and destroy were the recipients of the height of hatred, and that was true for both sides. One thing was certain, Grant always picked the loveliest of the South's antebellum homes as his headquarters. In Holly Springs, Oxford, Vicksburg, Natchez—it was only the…