So if we go to way back when I started this adventure, it was all about the living history hobby and not having to set up a tent anymore. That’s why Nawaka is built like she is, furnished with period furnishings, modern stuff hidden. At times along the process I’ve hit some bumps with the reenacting community, but it’s largely been accepted.
This past weekend a group of civilian ladies were invited to set up our town right on the battlefield. The event is the “Brooksville Raid” and in 37 years, there’s never been a town to actually raid. So we gave them one.
Friday night before the “raid”, we sat around the table and shared stories of our “moments” in living history- the times that you are totally immersed in the moment and it’s just… Ahhh… Some are funny, some are poignant, but really those moments are why we’re in this hobby.
So Saturday, beautiful day, lots of visitors in funny short clothes in the town. My girls were watching a little boy and they had gone to market. We hear some shots in the distance and start suggesting our guests go to the woods for safety. My kids aren’t back from market. I stand on the porch and ring the cowbell (my family’s signal for 3 generations now to come home). No kids. The announcer is whipping the crowd up, “the town knows somethings coming, there’s some sort of signal”. I’m actually getting a little worried. No kids.
Finally I check the modern communication device. There’s a text from Aurora, they won’t let them on the battlefield. I text her back, she shows it to the guy and all of a sudden here’s the girls and their little charge tearing across the field in response to my cowbell. Quite a moment.
Battle starts, we have the homeguard protecting the town. Kids go out and throw potatoes at the union soldiers. Aurora threatening with a frying pan. Much fun and excitement. Confederates come in, offer opportunity to eva
cuate. Most leave, my little group stays in the house.
Battle all around, Confederates retreat. Union in the street! We all are on the floor, very quiet. Pounding on the door, “ladies we know you’re in there, come out now”. Stay down stay quiet. Kids are so into it. Pounding on the door again. I raise up, quietly unlatch the Dutch door and open it with my pistol in the face of a young private. “Oh sh…!” and he falls backwards off the porch.
There’s a captain with his pistol pointed at me. “I know I have 6, do you want to risk it?” “only takes one”. Short standoff, he says “I won’t shoot a lady”. I trust him and put mine down. They march off. Kids peek out the windows.
WE had a moment!