Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1909-10-08
The Gallant Heroes
of the South


! look upon them and realize that great
many of the dear old faces 1 will never
see again.
! Tuesday and Wednesday were golden
days in the history Of Athens. Oh, how
each precious golden moment VIII be
treasured through the years to come.
| l felt 1t to be such a great privilege
and honor to grasp the hand of dear old
comrades.
My comrades! Why? Were they not
my soldier-father's comrades? Yes, in
deed, l claim them as comrades by birth
right; have often wished l knew more
about my fathers service in the war. lie
was a boy soldier. and was wounded in
his left lung while in service. After the
war was ended my father was married
twice and / being a child of the latter
union don't know anything about his serv-
ice, but we still have some relics OF the
Confederate war, which / prize very
highly.
have always loved the lost cause and
our dear soldiers with all the strength of
my warm impulsiYe southern nature.
remember one time in school we were
Ireciting in history and it came my time
to recite where Stonewall Jackson was
wounded by one of his own men, and
burst into tears and covered my face
with my books.
|
stood and looked upon that grand parade
of our dear old boys in gray that great
sobs shook my body and the tears were
coursing down my cheeks; lack OF nerve
I heard some one say, and that instead
Of weeping and making our old heroes
feed sad should be gay and feel proud
OF them; do everything to make them
feel cheerful
There isn't daughter in all the sunny
south who feels more pride in her noble
heroes. am so thankful and proud that
I am a daughter of Confederate hero.
AS stood upon our streets and looked
| upon our noble "old lads" in gray, there
was such a wave of emotion and feeling
swept over my soul that 1 can't express
my feelings.
AS the columns of the noble gray came
in view with each one bending beneath
the cycle of time land perhaps before an
other reunion is held many will be cut
DOWN, I looked down the line and in
my minds eye saw many pictures of the
! long ago.
! Come, dear readers, and follow me as
I paint the pictures which I saw in that
| grand parade of the heroes in gray, and
you will weep too.
| I could see the picture of a dear old
! wife and mother as she gave up her hus-
band and son for the Lost Cause, could
see how she chung to them in parting,
| calling Gods blessing upon them and then
my picture carried me with father and
son upon the field of battle; they were
| in different companies and, therefore,
| were separated, and as 1 look 1 see the
son, who is only a mere boy, lying with
his white face upturned to the sky, and
| his beautiful curls matted together with
| his own LIES blood, and bark! in fancy
/ l hear his parted lips murmur his moth
/ ers name, or call gently for his little
| sisters far away at home, and there today
in that far-away land that brave lad lies
in an unmarked grave, numbered with
the unknown dead.
| That dear. heart broken mother watched
and waited for years, hoping against hope
| that her George" was yet alive and
would return home; that dear old lady
| has long since passed away and let us
| hope that George her brave soldier
lad. was waiting her on the shore of eter-
nifty.
Friends, that soldier boy was my uncle;
his father returned home after the war.
| Now, as the strains of Dixie Land"
| reach our ears we see still another pic
| ture, in fancy l see a young bride as she
bids her gallant young soldier husband
farewell as he goes out upon the battle
| field to win fame and glory for the Lost
Cause; and as looked into the dear faces
1 indeed realized that they had won it
| honor, glory and fame, which will be
handed down from generation to genera
| ton.
l also found in these brave boys of the
sixties some who, when the battle call
came, plighted their troth with beautiful
maidens of the long ago, maidens who
waited patiently for the return of their
| lovers.
AS one dear old comrade came neai
me in the march bearing a staff with
| a pitiful small remnant of a once beau
/ tiful silken banner, 1 heard him say in
| a loud, clear voice: Friends, she doesn't
| look very we'll now, but she has been
a beauty in her day" All. yes. that love-
ly flag. could see her lovely folds as she
Haunted in the morning breeze or waved
over sun-kissed valleys and beckoned her
4 brave followers on gave strength to their
| tired and weary feet / love it, and who
shall dare chide me for weeping over our
dear old flag? I think these lines in the
beautiful poem which Mrs. Barskdale, of
our city, wrote, so pretty:
torn,
Are faded by the touch of passing years,
But of their fadeless glory nought is
! shorn,
| Preserve them well, they are embalmed
/ in tears,
They may yet wave in peaceful triumphs
when we're gone"
And last, dear friends. but not least,
the picture is not quite finished the gall
| liant old soldiers of the gray will all
| soon pass over the river and rest under
| the shade of the tree, and there answer
the roll call of the Great Commander in
| Chief.
| AS each dear OLD hero passed me could
only wave my handkerchief while I Sob
bed like a child and am not ashamed OF
| 1t, either.
| If I never see another reunion of our
dear old soldiers, I shall always treas
ure the memory Of the Athens reunion.
| My piece will come late but 1 am a
poor writer and hope every veteran that
reads this can read between the lines,
| too. for my heart is full, whether I can
write it. or not.
| II any of the dear old veterans that
sees this in print and knew my father
/ in the war would kindly write to me-
Mrs. Minnie Ketter, 127 Mitchell street,
Athens, Ca
My father was J. P. Hally, of MadI-
son county, Ga, and don't know, but
think he was of the 43d or 44th Georgia
| regfrnapf