Dang Northern Scum
In the attempt to get out of the house to think about things other than Paige’s medical issue, we went “downtown” to Apple Butter Makin’ Days. This is the local yearly festival run by my little town of Mt. Vernon (Missouri). Along the way, we stopped in the local Ben Franklin store to get some things. While my wife was off in the aisles, Parker and I sat by the window and ate popcorn. While there, I read this little window pamplet that described the history of Mt. Vernon, specifically focusing on its role in the Civil War. Hmm. Interesting…
Apparently, Mount Vernon went back and forth between Union and Confederate control. At times, both sides had camps established in the town (I beleive this was also the case in Springfield, but I could be wrong). In any case, the pamplet spoke about one particular battle that happened right there — where we were — on the square. It described how Colonel So-and-So (can’t remember his name) marched into the town center and uprooted the rebels, who had previous held the square as a stronghold. As a sign that the rebels had been vanquished, they removed their wretched flag — the stars and stripes — and replaced it with their own flag.
I had to read that a few times. The north, or the Union forces, described as “the rebels”? Let’s just say that after 7 years here, it still took me by surprise and reminded me exactly where I was. It reminded me of the time when I was in graduate school (in Connecticut) and in a conversation about the Civil War my good friend (who was from Alabama) described it as “the war of Northern aggression.” I did a quadruple take on that one — not spending any time in the South, I’d never heard that one before.