Day Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen: July 7 thru 9. Sunday was a bright hot day and a final chance to enjoy the company of my fellow living history colleagues, now good friends. The Living History Center was busy with the weekend crowds and I sat under the shade of the awning listening and interacting with everyone. What a grand adventure it had been, so emotional. I sat pondering the journey of my life that had brought me to this time and place. My discoveries and just wallowed in the Americana of it all. Time passed so rapidly and I was soon watching another episode of Sharpe with Rick that evening.
Monday dawned and even the weather broke I took a stroll down Steinwehr after the early morning rains and lamented to quietness of it all.
The hustle and bustle was all cleared away, the folks all returned to their normal states and I felt suddenly lonely. I contented myself on playing tourist and spent the afternoon visiting the shops. So many things that I would have bought years ago but now only material goods. I had reached a Zen point in my life. "No more stuff!" I said to myself whilst resisting the consumer urge.
I was now content with my discoveries and knowledge and started to formulate a wild idea to visit my own Revolutionary War Grave in Carlisle, PA. I sound suddenly realised that I had a golden opportunity on the last day when I would have a vehicle again to do something remarkable! I imagined my sitting at home in England being agitated at the thought of never having been there.
That evening while watching Sharpe the Rifleman I started to engage my mind. Since discovering that Robert Magaw was the 2i/c of Thompson's Rifles I had renewed my subconscious interest in Sharpe. Luckily it was Ricks favourite series so we were working our way through his whole collection of Sharpe videos. This engaged my subconscious.
It is important to realise that we know all the answers we just have to access them.
Tuesday came with even more rain and now Steinwehr Avenue looked even more forlorn and much like England except for the warmth
I took a final walk around the Burg and a play in the shops where I found some interesting conversation.
On the way back I took photographs of the newly erected Culp memorial that had been dedicated on the Saturday evening.
The Culp story really sums up the Civil War, brother against brother, cousin against cousin, a family divided. Pvt. John Wesley Culp died on Culp's hill, the family property belonging to his uncle Henry Culp at Gettysburg on July 2, 1863. His cousin William fighting for the Union in the same battle. Nothing can be more tragic.
Readers wishing to know more of this story can press the link below.
Pvt. John Wesley Culp of the 2nd Virginia Infantry, CSA. Kill in Action July 3, 1863. The only member of Company B to be killed, again fate taking a hand.http://www.army.mil/gettysburg/profiles/culp.html
That evening I took Cathe and Rick to Pickett's Buffet for a farewell dinner. The food was amazing and such a variety. They live only 100 yards from all the facilities on Steinwehr Avenue right on the Battlefield which is sooooo convenient for both the material and the paranormal!
I was amazed at the selfie, Rick and I look like brothers and that certainly how it felt. It felt like family and I had come home.
It was just so refreshing to be a normal inhabitant instead of feeling like a tourist. It is a feeling like no other, just plain wonderful.
After dinner Cathe and Rick decided to take me to see the mural in a part of town I had never visited. It really felt strange driving through the Burg with hardly a soul around, streets deserted and the weather overcast that made it all the more memorable.
We turned into a back lot near a disused factory and found the marker and mural.
I was awestruck by the size and quality of the mural which obviously didn't receive the tourist attention it deserved. It recorded the events of the first day and the desperate fighting as the Union army were pushed back into and through the town on July 1, 1863.
It had an eerie paranormal atmosphere and Cathe confirmed my suspicions saying that it was the centre of a lot of spirit activity.
The evening was rounded off by a visit to the old railroad station which delighted me as in my previous life at that point in time 1887 I am building railroads in Georgia.
It was past life heaven! I revelled in the architecture and age of the structures and rails. I looked around hoping to find some spare railroad spikes as souvenir but unlike my success at Griffin Railroad Depot, Georgia I found nothing. Folks in Pennsylvania are just too plumb neat and tidy! It's a Northern thang!
Thus my Gettysburg adventure into time had ended rather suitably at the Railroad Depot which for me was the perfect ending of this adventure.
The morning would see a new adventure dawn and you can read more about that in the article "Visiting my grave" in the My life as Robert Magaw section of this website.