Chapter Two

I was 7 in 1861

My Dad is a Civil War veteran; we lived in Chicago, I was 7 years old when he went to fight the southern rebels in 1861.  I remember standing in front of our house; we lived on Pine Street, north of the river going right into Michigan Ave.  It was a strange time; we were entering into a war in which we were going to be fighting our own people.  A color of a jacket determined what side someone was on.  Many people my Dad worked with were from the south and had left earlier to join the southern forces, preparing to fight people like Dad whom they were just working with months before.  Side by side they were building this city; homes, sidewalks, businesses, steel for the trains.  Chicago was huge; growing so fast, it was great place to be.  But all that was changing, the heart beat of the city changed.  Leading up to this, we were being told how the women and children will have to pitch in, help at home while the men went to defend the freedoms all men are to have. 

A carriage came up, a cross between a covered wagon and the new stage coaches that were being built.  Four horses were strung to it, a Calvary of men and horses to the front and rear.  All sitting proud, sure that this will be handled quick and the nation will be whole again.  More coaches came around from the blocks parallel to Pine, already loaded with men. Everyone was out in the street that day.  Some were yelling, just proud to be a patriot, others crying because their loved ones are leaving.  My Dad stepped towards the coach, Mom grabbed his arm and gave him the biggest hug I have ever seen, Dad grinned then Mom kissed him good-bye.  He grabbed a couple of lilacs off the bush next to the stairs; putting one in her hair and keeping one. 

“I will always love you baby!”

 To this very day the smell of lilacs brings me to that time.  He then turned towards me, messed my hair, bent to one knee, smiled and nodded. 

“David; you keep things straight here and I will do so out there, and don’t forget to fix that first step, it’s loose again and get a haircut.”

“Yes sir!”

 He climbed in the carriage; it rolled down Pine Street heading south across the river.  In front of Dad my Mom never shed a tear, but when he was gone she cried for days.  Lincoln had declared freedom for all slaves and the south was not happy.  It was going to get nasty, Mom was so scared.  So many of our friends went through the same thing, it was hard to understand.  All I knew was hundreds of thousands were going to war to make things right.  Now it was my job to be the man; after school I worked whenever I could.  The city was insane, growing like crazy.  We lived in the German district.  It was a hard working core of people; all the construction going on meant a lot of work all the time, I worked building the stock yards, seven years old when I started but I had to do what I could, it is just how it was.  Knowing my way around tools, I became very skilled at building.  The years rolled by, letters continued coming from Dad.  Every weekend we would walk to the post office, Mom would not open the letters until we got home. 

To my Love:

The day turns into night

As the sun sets

As a flower wilts

My soul longs for you

In the blood and coldness of war

My love for you warms my soul

I close my eyes and see your face

I breathe deep and smell the lilacs

You are the anchor of my soul

Without you tomorrow has no value

My thoughts of you are the heartbeat of my soul

I long for your touch, your beauty

The smell of you perfume

Your kiss, your hug

You are the anchor of my soul

I will always love you.

Kiss Kiss - Baby, I will see both of you soon!

She so wanted us to be together again.  Dad only wrote about the good things, he would tell of his friends, the laughs they would have around the fire, how bad the food was, sleeping under the stars and so on.  He would mention the battle but only in the fact we were always running the rebels back.  I thought it was the greatest.

To My Love:

Since the day I met you; my heart has been yours!

The golden lace on your white dress

The deep red of your lips

Your gorgeous deep brown eyes

Your hair, your lovely, lovely hair

Your soft skin, the skin of an angel

These are the thoughts that cleanse my soul.

Today I saw Ben from the lumber yard, he is still wearing grey, across from our position I could see him manning the cannon.  It is quiet today, no bloodshed, and no hatred.  I do not know if Ben saw me but I know I hope our paths do not come that close again during this war.  It will never be too soon for this war to end.

I remember the day I met Bill.  He moved from Arkansas to find work in the big city.  He never let that accent go.  It’s funny how we remember certain things.

Tell David I acquired a new Henry Rifle, accurate as hell.

Kiss Kiss - Baby, I will see both of you soon!

I kept some letters and later in life I learned what it was really like, but I had the greatest respect for Dad.  There was no need to provide the full detail, the pain, death, cold, starving agony.  No, that wasn’t his way.  He made us feel safe, those of us at home, simply waiting, longing for the day. 

To My Love:

Sweet dear you consumed my thoughts today.  I was granted a two day leave.  I got a bottle, loaf of bread, bag of jerky, and headed for the river.  I found a weeping willow sat down closed my eyes and went right to the State Fair. 

You were so cute sitting with your friends at the soda stand, vanilla shake; whip cream, cherry on top.  Remember when we met?  I walked up nabbed your cherry and you looked so upset.  But you were at my side every Moment from then on.  We rode that Ferris wheel a hundred times that night.  Your smile was so intoxicating.  I can see it right now.  We finished that night with corn dogs and another vanilla shake.  That time you got the cherry. 

You were part of my soul every day since. 

When I get back we are going straight to the lake front, and soak up that fine fresh lake air. 

Page 2 is for David Babe, I miss you.

Kiss, kiss I will see you soon baby!

Dear David;

I had a wonderful memory of one of our days fishing.  While I was on leave I got to sit down and do some fishing on the Mississippi.  When the line hit the water it took me back to your fifth birthday.  Do you remember that trip?  We loaded up the wagon; camping gear, wood, both horses, you, Mom, and me.  You caught your first everything that weekend.  Sunfish, Bass, Trout, and the biggest Cat fish we ever saw.

Your Mom cooked that fish to perfection, lemon, garlic, a loaf of sour dough bread, some butter and we were in heaven.

Remember when you fell in the river?  You were so angry at the time but at the fire that night we laughed and laughed, your Mom laughed so hard milk shot out of her nose.  She won’t admit it but we know the truth. 

Did you fix the step?  Did you get your hair cut? 

Love you guys – see ya soon!

There was a letter that worried us, it wasn’t the content but it looked like it had blood splatter.

To My Love:

Me and my buds went hunting for squirrel and rabbit today.  We just couldn’t take the military grub anymore.  I miss your cooking baby, your ham, mint leaves, pineapple and sweet potato.  Oh my I can taste it right now. 

David:

Remember when you shot your first squirrel?  What a shot, you smiled so big, it was a fine shot.  Make sure you keep that mussel loader oiled and clean, we are going hunting as soon as I get back.  I hope you kept up practicing.

Sorry to cut it short but gotta go.

I hope both of you are well, I miss you guys so much.

Love you guys – see you soon!

Mom and I were so worried, we had no idea what happened and could only wait until the next letter.  However he gave no indication to why the last ended like it did.  But this one made me so proud of my Dad.

To My Love:

Oh what a story I have for you guys this time.  I know how you like rubbing elbows with the who’s who.  Our regiment had some guests today.  Lt. General Sheridan, and get this – President Lincoln; Yea!  The president!  They walked through the whole camp and shook hands with everyone.  The dinner that night was to include our guests, but wait it gets even better.  Our commander picked six soldiers to have a competition.  The prize was a seat at the head table.  Got your attention David?  Guess how they determined the winner?  Ok I’ll tell you – a shooting contest.  Lincoln and Sheridan were the judges.   Long rifle, hand gun, discharge, reload, discharge, target stationary, target moving, quick draw and accuracy.  I took all categories!  That’s right baby; I sat at the Presidents table.  We talked all night; once dinner was over we sat and talked even more over brandy.  The president knew of a few of our missions, and shared his views and hopes. 

It was a great night, many of my buds were harassing me the next day but that didn’t matter.  I was the best shot!

I wish you guys were there. 

Kiss, kiss Baby – See you soon! 

 Then the best letter came, honey be happy and tell David - I am coming home!  The North had won!  Yes!  My Dad was coming home!  However - the price was great, many lost their lives; many of my friends never saw their Dads again.  My Mom’s friends met regularly.  They continually took care of those families that were never going to see their loved ones again.  The neighborhood grew so strong during that time.  It was patriotism at its finest.  I remember Mrs. Rose next door, she was elderly, and her husband had been passed for about ten years.  Mom was there at least once a day, and I did everything I could to help.  The prize for all that work was the best apple pie I ever had. 

In 1865 Dad came back from the war, my Mom cried for days, she was so relieved and happy, so much pressure waiting and waiting for that day.  They sent me to Mrs. Roses for two days, we ate so much pie, at that time I had no idea why I needed to stay next store, but today I fully understand.  When Dad said it was ok to rejoin them we headed right to the Lake Front, together again; nothing could ever come between us.  A few of my friends however did not have it so lucky, their Dads never came back home.  They lost something that could never be replaced.  So much had changed but for me I was a lucky kid.  In December of that same year the stock yards opened.  It meant huge money for the city, they expected hundreds of thousands of livestock to pass through, and my Dad was there to enjoy the festivities.  Dad came home the same as I could best remember, maybe with a little more intensity; he had become a tracker and weapons expert during the war.  At the time I had no idea what he really went through and he never talked about it.  By 1869 all ten railroads converged on Chicago, Chicago was linked from coast to coast.  We worked together at the stock yards and rail yards but during the nights he taught me everything about shooting.  And on weekends we went out to the country so he could teach me tracking. 

One night, a very special night, he gave me a box. 

“David - before you open this box I want you to focus on all you have learned.  You are smart, and have been working very hard, you have become a fine young man, and you deserve this.”

I opened the box and there it was, my first colt peacemaker revolver; black steel, maple handle, single action cartridge revolver, just like the army used.  I knew my way around all the black powder guns but this was new, a cartridge, just put it in and it’s ready. 

“One more thing son”, he handed me a bag.  Inside was one of the finest black leather belt and hip holster I have seen.  Dad didn’t care for the holster on the thigh; the hip draw was all I knew anyway. 

“Now David we can’t wear these in town but when we go out to the country this weekend we can have some fun.  You’re confident that you have become a fine shot with the mussel loaders and the black powder hand guns; you think you can handle this colt?”

He smiles and points to the targets he had already set up.  Dad did not like shooting bottles, he hated the clean up and frankly so did I, especially since I was the one who had to clean them up.  The targets were playing cards and as usual the aces were always the furthest away.  We practiced out behind the tool shop at the stock yards, plenty of dirt and manure piled up to make sure not a soul would be injured.  Normally I would take two aces and let Dad have the other two but not today.  Six cartridges in, six rounds fired, four aces dead center, a king and queen missing a head. 

“Well that is very impressive.  Son; remember this”; he put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye; “you are not a trained killer!  You are a trained marksman and a highly trained survivor.”

At that Moment I heard for the first time real images of the war he was in. 

“David I became good to survive!  In battle, the dead soldiers were the scared and unskilled.  I learned under fire, being shot at from every direction.  A calm hand and a calm head will survive.  You stay calm, pick your mark and deliver with total accuracy.  Hesitation will make you second, in gun fire, second is the first to the grave.”

“David – this country is growing, the frontier is expanding and there is a lot of danger out there.  Keep these things I teach you, keep them to survive, but never use them to become the evil that is out there.”

I really didn’t understand at the time but I loved being with him.  He took the Colt from my hand loaded it and blasted six rounds so fast, I looked down at the other end – six cards dead center right next to each other.  He looks at me; “you’re not the only ace in town young one”.

During that time my mother worked at book seller’s row on State Street just north of Madison, a magnificent five story marble decorated building.  It was one of the major retail businesses during the 1860’s; from Lake Street to State Street it was the best!  She loved that job, she seemed to know everyone, her and Dad were invited to everything in the city.  I could tell my Dad did not like the life but he loved Mom so much he did anything and everything for her.  I will never forget that day with the lilacs; the smell will remind me always.  This socializing brought different opportunities for Dad however.  I remember one July night in 1871, they were going to the Palmer house, it was big for Mom; she even got a new dress.  She was so beautiful; her hair was tied in a big bun a grand green and blue hat with matching umbrella.  The dress was blue with green all through it.  One of our German neighbors was a dress maker and had a store in the same building, so when I say got a new dress that meant they worked hard and made it from scratch.   Dad wore his dress blues, it was a big deal, and everyone who was anybody was going to be there.  They were honoring Lt. General Sheridan; he had just gotten promoted and given command of the Army.  He moved the Army headquarters from St. Louis to Chicago.  His command extended to the Rockies and from Canada to Mexico.  He was as big as they come.  Another person attending was a man known as William Cody (Buffalo Bill).  Mr. Cody was a serious tracker; he led hunting expeditions for the rich.  Gold was a hot topic for many, but for others it was hunting big game.  They were rubbing elbows with the best.  I went with some friends out to the street so we could spy.  I was well skilled in tracking at this point and one major aspect of tracking is not being detected.  It was hard with my stumbling friends but we enjoyed our night of observation.  I took them through the underground entrance and up the back.  When we got over the ballroom I could see the whole event.  Everyone dressed in their best.  I could see Mom and Dad in front of the band, dancing arm in arm.  The way they look at each other; nothing could ever tear them apart, the smiles on their faces, a gentle kiss to Dads cheek, a close hug.  They stay together constantly, over to the bar, then to the table arm in arm.  The room is huge, very high quality craftsmanship.  Wood trim, oak and maple everywhere, red carpet and curtains tied back with blue and gold tassels. The tables are covered in red clothe, flowers in the center of every table.  It is a high class event in every way.   We had the best seats and no one knew we were there. Well I thought so at the time.  However; when the night was over we were at home relaxing and Dad made mention that I need to be much quieter.  He smiled, and smacked me on the back of the head, he was the best. 

It was a hot July; the Independence celebration was always a great time.  More parties for Mom and Dad meant more covert operations for my friends and I; we were at all the parties in one way or another.