On Bended Knees

Honored Memories of Our Heritage

The below prayer was prayed at a time in the War for Confederate Independence, when the Confederacy was still winning.
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....... The Confederate Form of Prayer

Almighty God, the sovereign disposer of events, it hath pleased Thee to protect and defend the Confederate States heretofore, in their conflect with their enemies. and be unto them a shield.
     With grateful thanks we recognize Thy hand, and acknowlede that not unto us but unto Thee belongeth the victory; and in humble dependence upon Thy Almighty strength, and trusting in the justness of our bcause, we appeal to Thee that it may please Thee to set at naught the efforts of all our enemies, and put them to confusion and shame.
O Almighty God, we pray Thee that it may please Thee to grand us Thy blessing upon our arms, and give us victory, over all our enemies, wherever they may be.
     Preserve our homes and alters from pollution, and secure to us the restoration of peace and prosperity; all of which we ask in the name of Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord and Saviour, to whom, with Thee, the Father and the Holy Spirit, we will give all the praise and glory in time and throughout eternity.

Amen and Amen.......

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Back in the early 1990's my family and I visited a Confederate Graveyard; there on bended knees, and in tears, I ask. "Oh Lord, why could not these brave and honorable men, have won our war? They had built upon this land, one of the most God Fearing and noble societies and nations, ever to exist upon this earth! Its leaders were the finest to be found anywhere. Why Oh Lord could not they have seen the victory, and the vindication of our just cause?"

Upon my return home my prayer were answered in a dream, wherein I was shown in no uncertain terms that our Lord is not suspended in time. That the victory was not denied them, it was only from our advantage point delayed. While we here in our time, see 144 years having passed since the surrender of our Confederate Armies. The Almighty God sees the entire span of time, past, present and future before him!

In the realms of glory a year is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. Therefore 144 years, as counted at that time, is no time at all in the long span of history. The prayers of our Warriors of the Confederacy, delivered unto him in blood, sweat, and tears, in agony, often ending in death, has been combined with our own, and may well be answered in our time.

That time to which Jefferson Davis referred, and we know so well, that "The principle for which we contend is bound to reassert itself, though it may be at another time and in another form." How many times I ask within myself: What did you mean Mr. President, when you used the phrase ‘another form?’

When the present modern day Confederate Political Cultural Movement was born and began to grow, I knew precisely of which our beloved president spoke. Another time to President Davis was the distant future; another form was the process and procedures, the method by which the Confederate States of America would rise againOur Confederate Armies having been compelled to surre

nder had been overwhelmed by far superior numbers and force. We today need not nor must not surrender our history, heritage, culture, traditions and certainly not our faith. We have been in a state of retreat, for low these 144 years. We shall not surrender our nation, the Confederate States of America!

In that prayer of so many years ago, I also stated "When Oh Lord, when will we turn and fight? When will we renew the battle for those unalienable rights which you endowed?" In Columbia South Carolina and in Montgomery Alabama, we began the process and with a glorious victory in both cases.

We turned on our opposition, mustered our forces and fought back! But for a moment, I thought I saw a return of those days of honor, glory and splendor. The road is long, the coming battles will be many and here we stand, like unto David and Goliath.

On this occasion as in the Holy Scripture, "the giant looses!" This time we go out before the enemy with the whole armor of the Living God. The heathen Philistines of our time are not invincible they have their weaknesses. Our troops can be rallied in massive numbers! This time, by Grace and Divine Providence of Almighty God, we will be victorious and we will see the vindication of our just and honorable cause.

God save the Confederacy

Foundations of Christianity

When one says, "I am a Christian" in modern times; what does that mean? Well, mine is the faith handed down through long ages through the Holy Scripture. Generations uncounted of our fathers were humble Christians living their lives in praying and seeking the truths as they are presented in the scriptures. While today there is no accounting for what may or may not be described as ‘Christianity’ Today. But as for those of my household, we will serve the Lord God Almighty according to His teaching
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But where might one fine the 'Lord God Almighty?' Perhaps He may be found in popular culture, politics, public schools or peer pressure? Everybody does it, and I don't want to be different! Well no, the 'Almighty God' is not found in none of these! Certainly not in ‘churches’, which follow other ways, accepting instructions and doctrines, which are contrary to the teaching laid down in scripture. Where then might one find Him?
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He himself has told us, for "Then said I, Lo, I come; in the volume of the book it is written of me," (Psalms 40:7). And again in the New Testament, where it says, "Then said I, Lo, I come in the volume of the book it is written of me, to do they will O God." (Hebrews 10:7). While it would be ideal if we had the original manuscripts of the sixty-six book of the Holy Bible, they are no longer available. We do however have access to sufficient manuscripts, some of which date back to Old Testament times. When added to careful study over millenniums, we fine the scripture total and completely inerrant.
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However out more then two-dozen or more translations into English alone, we must choose a single version, which is reliable. Given such a choice there can be no doubt, the King James Version of 1611 in its present form, is totally accurate. Should one wish to learn the truths of what constitutes Christianity; there is no other source. Those finding the English language contain in the scripture difficult to read or comprehend, a good unabridged dictionary is recommended, and far more reliable then a new translation of the scripture.

Before we precede it is essential that we first believe that God is, and the Holy Scripture is the inerrant and divinely inspired word of the living God. Further that "All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness:" (II Timothy 3:16). Therefore, regardless of what preconceived notions you may have, as to the nature of Almighty God, if they are different then the words written in the scripture, it amounts to false doctrine.

The Christ of Scripture

The study of faith and belief in Christ Jesus our Lord and Savor is not a study of what we say of Christianity, rather what the Almighty God says to mankind through the scriptures. Jesus the Christ, was literally born of the Virgin Mary, and having Almighty God as his father.

Mary the mother of Jesus was in every respect a normal human woman, just as much so as any other woman. Except "...the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost." (Matthew 1:18). A comprehensive study would require volumes, therefore self-study is fundamental and indispensable, in separating those preconceived and envisioned notions of Christianity, from the true faith and belief laid down in the Holy Scripture, and handed down of our forefathers.

Modern Christianity has over the generations degenerated into and taken on the doctrines of the New Age Movement, which is a belief system basically taking bits and pieces from each of the known religions of the world, and molds them into a self-styled religion, satisfactory to each individual. Accepting everything and standing for nothing!

A religion with a 'designer god' fashioned after mans own image, which has lead to man declaring we as individuals are 'gods.' Among the false doctrines we find that nothing is considered to be sinful and immoral, nor is they’re a hell to shun or a heaven to gain as taught in the Holy Scripture. The speech and phraseology of this New Age Religion often mimics the Christian faith "Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away." (II Timothy 3:5).
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There is a quick wittedness, which is used to twisted and conjured up a self-styled logic, often followed by scriptural references. This form of religion is normally disguises their true purpose, which is to diminish Scriptural relevance, while reflecting the doctrines their own false teachers, whereby truth has no absolutes. But "Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him.

When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it." (John 8:44). In every known case where someone has claimed to find errors in the Holy Scriptures, it was due to a misreading or the lack of understanding, as to what is being stated. Therefore for eternity sake, it would be wise to be extremely careful, what you perceive to be Christian!
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God save the Confederacy

The Dawn Riders

Could a part of the Confederate Army have survived into the twentieth First Century? The Confederacy had many seperate sectors of its army, often each of them operated appart from the other. Perhaps one of them may have simply melted away, out of the Yankees detection. Then as time passed, they could have perpetuated themselves.
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What if the Confederate States Army reemerged, hidden in plain sight? Pending the day when they are prepared to take back our occupied nation, thereby enforcing our right to liberty and independence, as a separate and distinct people. The reconstitution of those long gray lines, and return of the Confederate States Army depicted here is of course fiction. It will remain fiction until sufficient numbers of Confederate Patriots step forward, and make it happen in the real world.

A friend of mine from many years past and myself had over the years, went our separate ways, due to changes in state of residence, as well as our separate status in life. But somehow we managed to meet for a brief period of time as fellow travelers who had somehow beat the odds against such a thing happening. Of all the people to cross paths with at a fast food hamburger restaurant it was my old friend Jim Bowman.

We made our trip through the line together and joined our wives at a booth around the corner from the order counter. We engaed in a little small talk in an attempt to get reacquainted and up to date on what had happened in each other’s lives. We had always known each other to be believers in the Almighty God, the Holy Scripture and prayer even though our feelings about Christianity as we both had read in the scriptures something put us at odds with many mainline liberal Churches of our modern age.

So Jim had drifted away from such Churches and settled into a return to a system of worship, which has for the most part gone extinct, which was previously known as House Churches or Cottage Prayer meetings. We were both long time believers in Confederate States Nationalism and Patriotism even though our means of expressing those beliefs were sometimes as different as our personalities.

Still our fellowship over both our interest in Christianity as well as all things Confederate and Southern had brought many hours of socializing, either at his home our my own. We took what few moments we had to compare notes and the subject drifted to a very unusual and memorable worship service, which Jim had attended, in his own home. The home he now owned in the countryside northwest of Richmond Virginia!

Then Jim and his lovely wife Brenda asked if my wife and I would be so kind as to accept an invitation to visit their Virginia home. We decided upon a convenient date, finished our meal and soon were off in different directions. We thought our visit would amount to renewing old acquaintances and enjoying a little socializing. There was little doubt the subjects related to those things Confederate and Southern would be a topic of discussion second only to that of our Christian Faith.

The date chosen for our visit was Friday 7 April and we found ourselves arriving in the late afternoon refreshed from having stay layer over at an excellent motel the previous evening. We didn't take long to settle in as Brenda served everyone coffee and a few small snacks in the living room. Somehow even though it had been years since we had visited the Bowman's at home, still we both felt quite comfortable.

Jim and Brenda's home was a modest middle-income house, which turned out to be an older structure that had been completely restored by Jim's father who had since passed away. The house was so comfortable and beautiful the two of them felt they could make no other choice but to move in and make it their permanent home. None-the-less it was positioned some distance down a dirt road which stretched between two major highways, one of which lead directly into Richmond.

In addition to the house Jim's father had left him 300 acres, which supported a variety of animals such as, would be found on any family farm. These included one half dozen cows, 200 chickens, 50 rosters, ducks, geese, several goats, plus Jim's own addition of several horses. Jim was not by nature a farmer, but he did manage to learn enough from his father to make the farm pay off sufficient to support the family. Additionally he had always been interested in the stock market in a small way, and was able to make gains on his meager investments.

Jim had a golf cart, which he had altered for small tasks around the farm, so before turning in for the night Jim gave my wife and I the grand tour, including a ride across the open fields and through a patch of woods, which bordered his farm. Early the next morning, according to normal farm routine we all arose before daybreak in order to complete the chores.

Jim's farm was positioned in such a way that as we stood at the front door we were facing the rising sun and looking down the long dirt road, which passed his house. We had finished the chores just about the time the first twinkles of light began to appear on the horizon. It was a beautiful clear Saturday morning and the rising sun looked like a hung orange ball sitting directly on the earth. When suddenly our attention was attracted to a huge dust bowl in the distance.

We both looked carefully but the dust was thick like a dense the dense fog which often settled amidst a thicket of trees. We both began to question; is that a car or a truck coming toward us? But no it couldn't be since there was no car or truck sound, just thick dust moving our way. We would have normally gone inside for breakfast and a cup of coffee, but we were mesmerized that somehow there was something strange happening here.

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Finally they began to approach closer and I couldn't speak for my friend Jim but I was stunned. What we saw coming directly out of the morning sun was at least 2,000 Confederate Cavalrymen, dressed not in historic uniforms but modern in every way. They even carried in their side saddle holsters some type of modern rapid fire weapon and I was willing to bet their saddle bags did not hold a batch of grandma's cookies.

We walked slowly down the lane and stood by the side of the road in order to see more clearly, as there long columns passed Jim's farm. We had hardly taken up our roadside position when they were upon us. There were color guards carrying the Confederate Third National, Battle Flag as well as the Virginia State Flag. Then we notice a fourth flag which we both recognized as General Lee's Battle Flag! These cavalrymen weren't riding on the cheap, we both saw lots of money ride by the farm that morning and these cavalrymen looked like crack troops.

Their commander displayed the modern cloth patches of an Army Colonel and bore a Confederate Battle Flag patch on the upper left sleeve of his uniform. Even Jim, who previously didn't seem very surprised, now stood in total awe at what we were witnessing. All he could say is 'The Dawn Riders!' - repeating the phrase several times! The colonel looked down at us as he passed and rendered a salute and I found my years of military training coming to the fore as I found myself returning his salute.

The last of the formation finally arrived and we could see what we interpreted as a follow up car so we waved him down. A gentleman in an Army Captains Uniform was driving, so we Jim approached the car and ask him in a quivering voice; who, what, I mean where? Look for us coming down Monument Row in Richmond at dawn tomorrow with 5,000 cavalry, along with 20,000 Confederate Infantry troops.

I found myself having one last question; Are you re-enactors or are you the real thing? The captain smiled and said; See you at dawn tomorrow, while at the same time he handed me a business card which read; The Dawn Riders in large letters. In italics at the bottom were the words, "We have returned!" Suddenly it occurred to me that Jim had called them by their correct title; 'The Dawn Riders' so I asked him, How did you know what to call them? I didn't stated Jim; I was referring to the time of day in which they appeared!

While we finished the farm chores, had what was by this time a late breakfast we all sat down to discuss traveling to Richmond early the next morning and scheduling our trip so as to arrive at a suitable location just off Monument Row. We decided to wake up early enough to do the chores, that it wasn't all that far away and we could make the trip in an hour and a quarter. Just before down we were waling the distance of a block away from Monument Row and found ourselves arriving in the middle of a huge crowd.

Police were everywhere and traffic was already being diverted away from was obvious to anyone a route being prepared for an oncoming parade. We didn't have to wait very long for no sooner had we found a suitable location from which to get a good view of the parade when the commotion started. We had somehow managed to relocate ourselves about two blocks from where the parade turned onto Monument Row and began their approach toward in the direction of the Statehouse.

Even though we had gained a small preview the day before, we were all eyes as they made their approach and nothing upon this earth could be more soothing to the eyes of an aging Confederate Patriot then seeing 5,000 cavalrymen and 20,000 infantry on pass and review. Particularly since we were certain we had stumbled across a little piece of information of which few others were aware; they were the real things.

A reconstituted Confederate States Army, which hid itself in plain site, under the umbrella of parade, troops in the business of entertaining the crowds. As the column came near we could see the same Colonel, however beside him was a man I had never seen before, a Confederate Major General with all of the proper accoutrements. The Colonel glanced our way as he passed, but this time simply touched the rim of his hat as a sign of respect and greetings.

On the way back the two ladies along with us men all discussed what we had seen, but both Jim and myself thought it best to say anymore then that they were re-enactors and parade troops. But we knew better, for what we had seen was the Confederate States Army remerging once more, which disguised itself as re-enactors and entertainers. We had witnessed the coming of 'The Dawn Riders!' But even more perplexing then what we had seen, was the looming question; how had they managed to gain the influence or the connections to parade 25,000 Confederate Troops trough Richmond at the crack of dawn?

God save the Confederacy

Phantoms of Crocked Lane

"When time seems to play tricks on our senses!"

Some stories are factual, while others are pure fiction, but there are those stories, which are caught somewhere between fact, fiction and legend; this is such a story. Haven’t you ever turned off the main highway onto a back country road, seeking a shortcut to a certain destination, still to many miles away; well I have and it can be quite an unexpected adventure. Join with us as we discover how one can be caught in a world where past and present appear to clash, in this story titled "The Phantoms of Crocked Lane".
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Ole Jake’s General Store

It was mid-spring of 1998, and I was 56 years old at the time, a month away from my 57th birthday, I had seen much, but there were a few places I’d always wanted to visit before time slipped away. I was still working full time driving disadvantaged and disabled people to medical appointments, and daytime activities. I had enough vacation saved up, so I took time off to visit the Cyclorama Museum of the Battle of Atlanta, then on to Stone Mountain, just east of the city. Afterward deciding to take Highway 75 southeast of the city, which forks off to the south and into Florida, while the other half of the fork branches off into Highway 15 to Savannah.

But somewhere along the way, missed the turnoff heading south, so I decided to take a side road so as to see something different, rather then the routine freeway scenery. However as it turned out what was supposed to be an alternate route, turned out to be first a narrow paved road, which turned into a dirt road to nowhere. The sun would set in about an hour and a half, so either I would find my way out of this maze or else locate a place to stop for the night, these were my priorities. After seemingly miles without end down the dirt road, I spotted a business called Jakes General Store, a very old wooden building that looked much like a survivor from some forgotten past.

In any case it never occurred to me that there were any General Stores left anywhere, but here was the real thing, looking like a picture from one of those old medal plate picture, collecting dust in someone’s attic. I pulled up in front of the store, walked in and looked about, this can’t be the 1990’s I thought, this place was stocked as if it were the post ‘Civil War’, then I thought to myself, ‘boy am I lost.’ An old man came out of a back room and introduced himself simply as Jake, the owner of the store! His overall appearance, cloths and mannerisms were themselves a relic of a long ago time, and he had a very old Southern Accent, the strongest I’d heard in all my lifetime.

"How do I get out of here, I am looking for the main road heading south into Florida", I said! Jake looked me over, like one looks at a stranger from some distant place. "You are lost", he said! He slowly raised and outstretched his left arm and pointed toward the south, "head that way, you’ll come to where you have a choice, left or right, go left. Straight ahead down that road is fenced with a wooded gate, on the other side is a road called Crooked Lane, stay out of there! Turn right, that turn off will get you to where you want to go!" Old Jake did not even crack an expression of any sort, but merely stood there, and waited for me to leave.

I thanked him for helping, turned and headed for the door, but before leaving I turned about so as to have one more glance at the old man, known as Jake, but to my surprise he was gone, he had seemingly disappeared. Outside the store I slipped into my car, backed out and headed south, just as Jake had directed, however, since there was absolutely no traffic, I slowed down, turned and looked back, in total astonishment, I had to stop my car, and back up, there was no sign of the General Store anywhere, the lot where it had stood was overgrown with shrubs and weeds. I got out of my car and looked about, to be sure this was the place, this is precisely where the store had been, only moments ago. I had inside the store; I know it was there!

As I got back into my car, I thought to myself, maybe I imagined it all, then I shook my head, no that’s not it, that’s not it at all, there sure enough was a store there and I did talk to Ole Jake, who gave me directions. I headed south just as Jake had instructed, a few miles down the road and straight ahead, just as Jake had said, I found myself facing the old wooden gate, the road went parallel to the fence, which went to the left and the right just as he had said. But instead of immediately turning right, I paused, wondering in my mind what was out there beyond that old broken down wooden gate. What was out there that would cause an old man like Jake to give such a stern warning?

There was plenty of flat ground just outside the gate, suitable for parking my car, so I decided to pull up and investigate, I made a loop to the left and parked directly in front of the gate. I stepped out of the car, and walked up to the gate, then scanned up and down the fence row, the moon was full and the sky clear, so the visibility was excellent for this late hour. My eyes then focused on what was out there across the field, as well as the dirt road, Jake had called Crooked Lane. Everything was overgrown, and somehow, I couldn’t see what was so mysterious, there wasn’t really any road to be seen, and the field on either side was barren, save for a pile of rubble some distance off to the left.

Perhaps there had been a farm located here at one time, and the dirt road led to town, but now it appeared there was nothing left, accept that very time worn pile of rubble. But still, I couldn’t help but believe that despite Jake’s cold expression, he was trying to tell me something, so I once more scanned the road beyond the gate, such as it was, and the fields on either side. The fence along either side of the gate was made of an old fashion type heavy wire, made in squares of approximately 6"x 8" or thereabouts, but long rusted and worn with age. Then I decided why not, the visibility is as clear as it’s ever been, for it being the middle of the night. So I climbed through the opening in the gate slats, and climbed through!

At first everything seemed as it was before I climbed through, nothing notable, then after walking down what was supposed to be a road, a distance of perhaps 30 yards; weeds became shorter and thinner until what I thought was an overgrown road was now clear. The road twisted back and forth into the distance as far as I could see, a narrow, dusty road it was, which obviously earned its name, The Crooked Lane. Looking off the left across the open field there stood a farmhouse and barn, where before there were only aged ruins, the weeds and long grass was gone. The field was now covered with crops; wheat, corn and what appeared to be a modest vegetable garden!

Suddenly my chain of thought was interrupted by the sight of five Yankee Cavalrymen, riding at a modest pace toward me; I wasn’t sure if they could see me or not, and anyhow I figured they must be re-enactors. But then it came to me, that couldn’t be, only moments ago, the farmhouse and barn weren’t even there, and the field as well as the road was overgrown with brush and weeds. Somehow this must truly be for real, but how could it be, I’ve never believed in ghosts, nor do I believe in houses and barns suddenly appear, where there was none before. I decided I would figure it out later, but for now, what were these Yankees up to? I watched as they turned off the road, and headed for the farmhouse.

The Yankee Commit Atrocities

I just had to get closer, so I walked cautiously toward the front area of the house, when, by the time I had covered 2/3rds of the distance, I saw these Yankee barbarians dismount, draw their sabers, and kick open the front door of the house. A short while later they were dragging two young ladies and an elderly woman out onto the lawn! I couldn’t believe my eyes, dear God in Heaven, I am unarmed and seemingly out of my time and place, having no way to come to the aide of these ladies. One of the Yankees, a Sergeant, beat the elderly woman and drove her through with his saber, cursing at her about being a dirty, traitorous Rebel.

The other Yankee Soldiers began to beat the two younger ladies severely; I assumed they where the elderly woman’s granddaughters, then the Yankees began to tear at their cloths, mocking them. Even though I couldn’t see real clear, it being night time with only the moon as light, still, I turned my head away; I couldn’t watch the torment to which these ladies were suffering, if only I had brought my Second World War German Lugar. A family souvenir handed down to me, which I never have expected to need it in a real situation! Just about that time I heard horses approaching at full gallop, coming from the far end of the road, obviously heading toward where the ladies were being beaten, violated and eventually slaughtered.

As the horsemen got closer, I could see the two uniformed Confederates, who were obviously unarmed, but still they bravely rode close to where the Yankee butchers were, jumped down from their mounts, picked up whatever was close at hand, a pieces of wood or a portion of an old tree branch. They did their best to defend the ladies, but to no avail, there were just to many well-armed Yankees, for them to overcome. Unarmed as they were. The first Confederate Soldier, a Private, was sorely wounded in the right arm with a saber, and began to bleed profusely; still, he kept on swinging, but unfortunately he was finally cut down.
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The second Confederate Soldier fought on, now opposed by all five Yankees, but his battle lasted but a short while, until he was driven through with a saber, and fell to the ground. Suddenly an old man well up in years appeared at the front door yielding a musket, and somehow managing to hang onto a copy of the bible in his left hand, a bible may have been reading. He managed to prop the musket up with one arm, and fire it at one of the Yankees with his right hand, and felled one of them. He then dropped the musket and reached inside the door, grabbing onto what looked, a distance, to be a club of some sort, and began to swing it back and forth as he approached the four remaining Yankees.

The Yankees were mocking him as they cast aside his club, grabbing him, and led him toward a tree not far away! A third Yankee cut off a length of rope hanging from a branch of that same tree, a rope no doubt used for what precious little wild game they could find! I was sweating by now and my nerves were raw, praying that if only I could do something, but alas, we were no doubt existing in two different time dimensions. The only thing my experience told me was that somehow I was seeing these events from a past that was now more then 148 years removed, from my own time. Still this definitely was no video movie show, it w as real!

Two Yankees tied up the old man, raping the rope around both him and the tree, but I noticed that somehow his left hand was still holding onto the bible, which was now laid across his chest; two Yankee barbarians backed off, and began to torment him. While the remaining two decided to violate the two young ladies in front of the old man, who squirmed back and forth, wanting to find someway to defend his granddaughters. Finally being finished with their evil deeds, one of the two, a large man, turned and drove through the bible and the old man, and into the tree, using what looked to be a long dagger.

The three women, the old man and two Confederate Soldiers being dead, the Yankees set fire to the house, the barn, laughing hardily as they rode away. After watching the five Yankees ride down Crooked Lane in the direction from where they had come, I turned and headed back in the direction of the gate, hoping against hope, that I’d wake up in some motel room or at home, only to discover it was all a nightmare. I just had to walk forward toward the carnage, and see if what I had witnessed had truly taken place. After looking about what I saw was horrifying, mutilated bodies and blood that what was left behind by these Godless Yankee barbarians.
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I was seeing first hand what they had made of their victory! I turned and slowly walked across the field in the direction where the old wooden gate should be, praying within myself that it would be there. I had seen much more then I had bargained for, and just wanted to get out of this place! As I got within rage of the gate and the fence on either side began to appear, but just as sudden I decided that I wanted to verify within myself that what I saw, I actually did see. So I turned about again and walked back in the direction of the house, but the house and barn was not anywhere to be seen, only the old ruins I saw in the beginning.

Nonetheless I continued until I approached the very location where the torment and slaughter had taken place! The bodies were gone, and the tree was felled over on the ground, and decayed by the passing years, only remnants remained. As I looked closer, what I saw was most unbelievable; there were bloodstains in the very places where the three ladies and the two Confederate Soldiers once lay. How could this be after so many years, time itself should have erased all traces of the bloodstains on the ground? After a while I turned and headed back to the gate, while turning over in my mind all that had happened!

As I once again got within range the old broken down gate and the fence appeared once more, so I climbed through, got into my car and drove off in direction as described by Ole Jake. Soon I found my self at an intersection where I saw an overpass; before crossing over to the other side and heading south on the freeway toward home, I spotted one of those all night coffee shops, so I pulled in and parked. I decided a return to the real world was just what was needed, so I walked in and took a seat on a stool next to the counter. It appeared that I was the only customer at this wee hour of the morning, so I figured there must be only a single waitress on duty.

The All Night Coffee Shop

I took my hat off and rubbed my eyes, it finally come to me just how tired I really was, maybe I could find one of those rest stops where I could pull over and get a little nap before continuing home. Given the strangeness of what has happen, I had totally forgot that I had my cell phone in my trouser pocket, I reached for it, opened it, the time had truly slipped away, it was 3:00 O’ Clock in the morning, and I hadn’t slept at all. Just then a lady came out from the kitchen, and ask just the right question, "How can I help you sir, maybe a cup of coffee?" She turned around to fetch my coffee, when I called out to her, "O, how about an apple pie, with whipped cream"?

She looked back at me, and gave me a positive nod of the head, and a slight wave of the hand! Very shortly the waitress was delivering my coffee and pie, about then a man came out from the kitchen, I learned later the two were husband and wife. The kind lady backed away and began wiping down the counter a few stools away, her husband, like his wife, were born and raised in a very friendly and traditional section of North Carolina, so striking up a conversation came natural to them. "I am Jim Blakely", he said, "I noticed you came from the direction of that dirt road out back, and you have that certain look on your face.

Let me guess, you met Ole Jake, and now you are wondering if it was all a bad dream?" I looked up from my coffee at Jim, "I take it you met the old gentleman too, and patronized the General Store, was it real, I asked, or do we both have an out of control imagination?" Jim gave me slight smile, "Yes the General Store and Ole Jake were real enough, but not in the way most people think!" About then his wife, who goes by the name of Brenda, came down to where Jim and I were, and began describing their experience, "about 20 years ago, Jim and I went through the same scenario as you.

We turned off the highway onto what we thought was a paved shortcut to Highway 75, only to discover it had turned into a dirt road. Then we did as you did, and stopped in at Ole Jakes General Store, and he gave us the same directions as you, as well as the same blank look. We did preciously as you did and stopped in front of that old wooden gate, and the rest you know." Well, I said, "what do the two of you believe it was, how could all, which the three of us saw, have taken place before us, and yet not be in the here and now, in the real world? It was like something out of the distant past being seen in the present!" Jim looked at his wife, then at me, "go ahead Jim, tell him!"

Jim then attempted to explain the unexplainable; "You might look at it like this, history has handed us a living video, a video of events that took place long before any of us were born. Haven’t you heard of ships in the North Atlantic, having over the years received messaged from the Titanic, decades, and in some cases nearly a century, after the sinking? The only way I can explain it is that it is some kind of visual time displacement." Who are these people I asked, what is all this about, "Well, said Jim, the best we’ve been able to figure, is that the Confederate Sergeant is the father of the two girls, and the Private is their brother and his son. His wife and there mother, remains unknown!

It appears they were returning from the war, having been with General Albert Sidney Johnston’s army when he surrendered, a couple of months before the events we all witnessed. Jim continued, "Albert Sidney Johnston surrender to William Tecumseh Sherman at the farm of James and Nancy Bennett near what is now Durham North Carolina, it was 18 April 1865. At which time 89,270 Confederate Soldiers representing the States of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and Florida surrendered, and were paroled. James and Nancy Bennett were like many families at the time, who suffered tremendously during the four years of war!

The Bennetts lost three sons: Lorenzo, who served in the 27th North Carolina, buried in Winchester, Virginia; Alphonzo, who is currently unaccounted for in the family history; and their daughter, Eliza's husband Robert Duke, who died in a Confederate Army hospital is buried in Lynchburg, Virginia. The Bennetts never fully recovered from the war, and by 1880, James Bennett died and the remaining members of the family moved to the new community of Durham, and begin a new life without him. The Bennett Farm was abandoned and fell into ruin, a fire finally destroying the farmhouse in 1921. In 1923 a group called the Unity monument, was dedicated on the site!

In 1960 the Bennett Farm site was fully reclaimed, and restored by local preservationists! It was at that time turned over to the State of North Carolina, and made a state historic site." Jim and Brenda, as they stood behind the counter, had all the fine mannerisms of a true Lady and Gentleman of the South! It impressed me that Brenda was dressed in the traditional but working dress of a Southern Lady, even then considered old fashion, but was none-the-less pleasant to me, given my Christian Conservative principles. Brenda reached over and refreshed my coffee, while Jim walked a few paces down the counter and pulled out something from a glass rack, his mind still on the story of the Bennett Farm.
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Without thinking, I took the necessary amount of money out of my wallet, and placed it on the counter, so as to pay for my order, just as Jim laid something on the counter in front of me. "There is no charge for this, a gift; perhaps it will help you on your journey home! The discussion had brought back an old question I’d had on my mind for seemingly decades, so I spoke up and asked, "If a visual and audio image of events that took place nearly a century and a half ago, can appear today, is it possible for someone today to travel back in time to that time period?" While waiting for a response, I finished my coffee, stood to my feet, taking their gift of a snack, wrapped in a paper bag, in my left hand.

While all three of us glanced at each other, Jim answered for both of them, "some Scholar might call it Quantum Physics! Half a century or more ago, had you asked that same question, people would have thought, that just maybe you have taken all those science fiction movies too serious." We all walked parallel along the counter toward the door, the two of them from behind the counter, I from in front! Then Brenda summed up the entire issue, "This side of the Rapture, all kind of things are scientifically possible; you might wish to contact Professor Herbert Lawson, at the Texas Science Institute, he’s an old family friend, just maybe you are closer to an truth then you might image."

We all reached the end of the counter and stood near the exit door, shaking hands and saying our good byes; as I passed through the door, I felt as if I had gained two really great friends, true friends. I got in my car, the car still facing the front of the coffee shop, and put the key in the ignition; before starting the engine, I looked up at the coffee shop, one more time. The two of them were standing near the center glass window; after gaining my attention they waved, and I then waved back. As I pulled out of the parking lot’s side entrance and crossed the overpass I wondered, what if I look back, will the coffee still shop be there, or did I imagine that too, I chose not to press the issue?

God save the Confederacy