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Camp Douglas POW memorial service
by Terry Warren
"Ya know ya have been to Chicago when anythin South of I-70, feels like Dixie". Pam wrote those words down as soon as they rolled off my tounge as we sped down the highway at 80 mph, glad to be out of Cook County and thrilled to be alive.
We spent the entire weekend in Chicago. We had gone there for the 15th anual Camp Douglas POW memorial service. This is the 3rd straight year that Pam and I have been lucky enough to attend this service, and pay homage to the 6000+ Confederate POWs buried in Oakwoods cemetery. I knew we were in for an eventful weekend when we stopped just inside the Cook county limits for something to drink and I had to repeat 3x's to the waitress that I wanted coffee........finally she said oh you want caffee where youse guys from??????aaaaaahhhhhhh!!! My beautiful wife is NOT A GUY! Don't call her one, and we are from Illinois.
We stayed this trip with Pam's sista Cate, and her "true blue yankee" husband. I will say that for all the confrontations he and I have had over the past 14 years, (and there have been some dandy's) he went out of his way this visit, to be most kind and gracious. They took us out for the evening meal at their favorite cajun food joint, an overpriced, over seated, yankee run rendetion of what cajun is. In truth the only thang cajun about it were the names of the dishes, and the zytaco music playing over the sound system. To make the point, of how lame the food was, I emptied a whole bottle of La. hot sauce on my mudbugs, and on my pawk, and asked for some caynne, which they did not bring.
I left our table for a few minutes, in order to keep a T tradition. When I am in someplace new, I always go to the bar, and sit amongst the locals. That way I get a real picture of where I am, no matter if its the South , North East, or West. When I sat down there was one stool open next to me. Shortly after, two couples came in and were waiting for a table. They were in their 30's or so, and seeing they ladies were a little put out about having to stand for the 30 min wait for a table, I stood up and offered my bar stool. One lady sat down, but the one nearest me said, "no thank you, keep your seat", and I asked her to please take it. At which time the guy she was with plopped his backside down on it. The little blonde looked at me, her eyes about the size of quarters......I said "sur, I believe it is customary for the lady to sit". to which he replied she doesn't wish to.........to which I replied " Well I didn't give my seat to you... and I would advise you let her sit down, if you would like to keep what little hair you have left on your head." When he jumped up, I thought well, here we go..but took 3 steps back and the pretty lady sat down and thanked me, I returned to the table and recounted the event to the family. Immediately my brother in law had enough to eat I guess for he wanted to leave.....I told him there was no need to leave ,the confrontation was over, and I would not emberass him. We left anyway lol.
We had only been back at their home 10 minutes when the phone rang. It was their eldest son Aaron (age15) he was calling from a police station, he and his girlfriend had just been mugged by two blacks and a white, he had been robbed of a cell phone and $47. He had a knife cut to his throat, was hit in the back of the head, fell to the sidewalk, scraping his forehead. He was quite shaken to say the least. They had also hit the girl as she had jumped on the back of the one robbing Aaron's pockets. All this transpired a handfull of blocks from his home in one of the nicest sections of Chicago. Note I said one of the nicest. This didn't happen in the projects.....
The rest of the night was a toss and turn, no sleep for thinkin, about what had already occured. Sunday, would turn out to be little better.
After coffee in the morning, we left the house, for the 40 minute drive through Chicago's worst area (where the cemetery is located). One the way we recieved honks, glares, and the first of the many yet to come one finger salutes of the day. Confederate symbols on your car are not appreciated in the South side of Chicago. Being in uniform took it to another level for me........let us say the locals were not appreciative of how beautifull gray is.
We arrived at the cemetery, early enough to help finish up the preparations and to chat with some SCV brothers who we hadn't seen for a year. As always the Douglas Camp #1507, put on a most remarkable ceremony. This is the 15th year, and these gentleman have it down pat. It was just before the service started, that I recieved one of the greatest compliments I have ever in my near 54 years recieved. I had walked over to where 3 gentlemen in uniform were talking, slapping the 2 I knew on the back and saying hey, and continued walking back to the van to get my guitar. While still in earshot, the one gentleman I didnt know asked " whos the guy with the eagle feathers?" To which one of my friends replied, " Oh thats T , he's from the Southern part of the state, he's our Heritage officer, he's bad.... in a good way, he definitely get's stuff done, we are proud of him and his family". I just kept a walkin but, I know I was smilin from ear to ear.
From the opening prayer, the service, though smaller in attendance this year (due to the large number in the division at the Hunley ceremony, and a large reenactment in central Illinois that same day) as always, it touched my heart like no other. I know it is the fact that where ya stand are buried over 6000 POWs, in a place worse than Andersonville, that few in the world even know about. (Somethings wrong with that picture).
After the speakers, came a couple of most haunting bagpipe selections, then the sprinkeling of the soil. (to those that asked that my family do this for your ancestors, please be advised we did, and pictures will be forthcoming.) After the musket salute came time for my contribution to the program. I wrote a song last week for the occassion called "In your Honor"......I had rehearsed and rehearsed it.....just before I started a 50mph gust of wind sent my guitar stand and almost new guitar crashing to the ground.......I didnt know whether to laugh or cry, I decided to laugh it off, cause I have hard enough time not crying at this service as it is. Well, battleing an ear infection, and the wind carrying the music off almost before it was audible, I stumbled through the song cryin ,choked on my own penned words while 1507's Commander Wilson sang beautiful harmonies to the song he had never heard before that morning.We finished up with the Border Ruffian version of Dixie. I barely mustered up a quiet thank you to the couple of hand claps I heard, when all the ladies in attendance let out one of the best reb yells in unison I ever heard, with the men followin suit, with their own yells, whoops and applause. As bad as my performance was, (I thought it stunk personally), it sure didnt appear to by those folks responce. Then I really did cry, cause I was sure I hadn't honored them POWs in the manner they deserve. With a closing prayer the service ended, and after a half hour of handshakes and hugs, Pammee and I loaded up the van and headed back through the ghetto, looking for interstate 57 SOUTH......In the next 30 minutes we were screamed at, given the finger more than a dozen times, we were lane crowded on purpose at over 70 mph, nearly causin us to wreck, and last but not least we had garbage thrown out of the window of a car full of blacks onto our windshield after they had tried for some miles to get us to pull over.
If I had acted on my immediate impulse, I'm sure I wouldn't be typin this posting at this time, if Pam wouldn't have been with me, I would have my stand, whether it would have been my last or not, would have been of little or no importance. The fact is they can call me whatever they wish, they can scream racism all they want, till they run out of breath for all I care.......they can scream hate at the top of their lungs.......I know what I am... and what message I convey to the world......and racist its not.....It's a simple mans pride in who and where he came from. Nothing more nothing less........I am aware of who the racists and haters are and I'd tell em to their faces, given the opportunity maybe I'll get that chance next year.cause I'm goin back to Chicago, theres 6000 + REAL Confederates there, who cant drive away............and I owe that much at least!
Warmest regards from those of us in Upper Dixie,
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