Columbus is a town steeped in interesting historical tidbits I had never known. For instance, Columbus has not always been named Columbus. Before its formal incorporation back in the 1820's, it had been known by the local Native Americans as "Possum's Town." It is said that Hernando De Soto crossed the Tombigbee River nearby in his search for El Dorado. During the Civil War, Columbus was where the Confederate Army maintained an arsenal that made gunpowder, guns and cannons. Columbus was also a hospital town where many Confederate and Union soldiers received care for wounds inflicted in various battles including the Battle of Shiloh. Interestingly, because of its status as a hospital town, the town itself was spared much of the devastation of the war seen in other towns along the way. As such, Columbus has many absolutely stunning antebellum homes. As such, one of the best things to do in Columbus is walk the streets and see these gorgeous mansions. Practically the whole downtown area is one big historic landmark.
Columbus is the place where American playwright, Tennessee Williams was born and where he lived for the early part of his life. His home is now the community's Visitor and Information Center. The house belonged to Williams' grandfather who was the leader of the local Episcopal Church. It was the rectory. However, many years later, when the church was looking to expand and install new buildings, including a big center for children, the house was going to be bulldozed. The City of Columbus, however, rescued the home, put it on a trailer and moved it right up front on Main Street where it serves visitors today. We met a really nice woman who volunteers her time working here and she made it very clear that we were welcome guests.
While Tennessee Williams is one of the most famous persons to come out of Columbus, there are others as well, including Red Barber, the baseball announcer, and Henry Armstrong, the first boxer to ever have world championships in three different divisions at the same time.
Columbus is also a place where you can get great food. While Brenda and I didn't sample that much of the local fare, no trip through Mississippi would be complete without the obligatory fried catfish, with fried shrimp, hush puppies, mac-and-cheese, and coleslaw. Oh and don't forget the deep fried pickles. What a treat.
For me, however, the most interesting and important thing I learned about Columbus is that it is where Memorial Day originated. After the Civil War, women of the town decorated the graves of both Confederate and Union soldiers. This event became known as Decoration Day and first began in 1866.
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| This is the house known as Twelve Gables. |
In 1866, a group of Columbus women met in the home Twelve Gables to decide on a way to honor the Confederate war dead in the local Oddfellows Cemetery. They decided on a date to meet, walk to the cemetery and decorate the graves with flowers from their gardens. Once they arrived, one of the women began placing flowers on the graves of the few Union soldiers, too, for they also had given their lives for their beliefs. Other women followed suit, and soon, all the graves -- Confederate and Union -- had flowers. This generous gesture was told and re-told, and finally made its way to the New York Tribune, where the short article was seen by young attorney Francis Miles Finch. He was so moved by the generosity of the Southern ladies and their Decoration Day, he wrote the poem, "The Blue and the Gray," and it was published in the Atlantic Monthly in September 1867.
Other towns may claim Decoration Day, perhaps earlier than the one in Columbus, but Columbus was the first to honor former enemies as well as their own. Here's what the Library of Congress said: "Columbus, Mississippi, thus, can rightly claim to be not only one day ahead of Columbus, Georgia, in its observance of Memorial Day, but more generous in its distribution of the tributes of honor
and mourning." What began as a solemn occasion in Columbus, Mississippi in April 1866 has evolved into the nation's Memorial Day, now officially observed each May.
You might think it odd or morose that Brenda and I have visited so many cemeteries on this journey. But I'll tell you this. Like it or not, not a decade has gone by since her birth that America has not been at war somewhere, and almost always, in defense of the freedom of someone else. So, when you go to these cemeteries and see the graves of so many young men who died in battle, it is a poignant and heart grabbing reminder of the sacrifices so many have made for what they believed in, and in so many cases, for the freedoms we enjoy today. I don't care what you think. To me, America today is the land of the free because it has always been the home of the brave. Politics don't matter to me. That a man sacrifices his life in defense of his country or his way of life is more noble than any political act in history. War is a terrible thing resulting directly from the failure of politics and diplomacy. And so there are fields and fields of dead men all across this great land of ours who time simply should not forget. Because when we forget these brave souls, we lose sight of everything that is important. America's history is in these fields and beneath these stones. Not just her history, but her humanity and everything she stands for.
The Blue And The GrayFrancis Miles Finch (1827-1907)
| By the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day; Under the one, the Blue, Under the other, the Gray. These in the robings of glory, Those in the gloom of defeat, All with the battle-blood gory, In the dusk of eternity meet: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgement-day Under the laurel, the Blue, Under the willow, the Gray. From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go, Lovingly laden with flowers Alike for the friend and the foe; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgement-day; Under the roses, the Blue, Under the lilies, the Gray. So with an equal splendor, The morning sun-rays fall, With a touch impartially tender, On the blossoms blooming for all: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day; Broidered with gold, the Blue, Mellowed with gold, the Gray. So, when the summer calleth, On forest and field of grain, With an equal murmur falleth The cooling drip of the rain: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment -day, Wet with the rain, the Blue Wet with the rain, the Gray. Sadly, but not with upbraiding, The generous deed was done, In the storm of the years that are fading No braver battle was won: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day; Under the blossoms, the Blue, Under the garlands, the Gray. No more shall the war cry sever, Or the winding rivers be red; They banish our anger forever When they laurel the graves of our dead! Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day, Love and tears for the Blue, Tears and love for the Gray. |
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