You’re not to be so blind with patriotism that you can’t face reality.
— Malcolm X
The site of Pickett's Charge is a solemn, savage, sorrowful space. Nearly 2,000 soldiers perished there, shredded by shrapnel, pierced by Minié balls, stabbed by bayonets or brained by rifle butts; another 4,500 were wounded.
The point of it is: that slavery's perpetrators fought and lost; that history has chosen sides; and that all men are created equal, regardless of race, sex, gender identity, religion, citizenship or criminal history. Period. Done. Finito.
My experience of walking Pickett's Charge was one for the books.
The walk took place as the climax of a three-day guided tour of Gettysburg with historian Ed Bearss (pronounced "Barz").
It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The sky had turned ominous around noon, as banks of thunderheads and a lashing rain began to sweep from the west across our little corner of Pennsylvania.
When the Greyhound pulled up to Seminary Ridge, Bearss gave us nerdy buffs a choice: we could remain in safety on the bus, or follow him in the downpour, thunder and lightning, and cross the meadow where Pickett's Charge took place.
Only five of us followed.
When you walk that green mile between Seminary and Cemetery Ridge, you enter a space where time itself stops or, as William Faulkner observed, "Yesterday today and tomorrow are Is: Indivisible."
My experience of walking Pickett's Charge was one for the books.
The walk took place as the climax of a three-day guided tour of Gettysburg with historian Ed Bearss (pronounced "Barz").
It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The sky had turned ominous around noon, as banks of thunderheads and a lashing rain began to sweep from the west across our little corner of Pennsylvania.
When the Greyhound pulled up to Seminary Ridge, Bearss gave us nerdy buffs a choice: we could remain in safety on the bus, or follow him in the downpour, thunder and lightning, and cross the meadow where Pickett's Charge took place.
Only five of us followed.
 |
| Ed Bearss |
I'm a veritable chicken when it comes to lightning and feared I'd wind up a "sudden fried" chicken. But after five nights of watching him recently on Ken Burns' "The Civil War," I knew I couldn't miss my chance to walk the Confederates' famous route with Ed Bearss.
Only when you're on foot can you see, from the lay of the land, why Robert E. Lee believed his army had an opportunity to smash the Northern line—and why, in reality, Lee never had a jot of opportunity. The field looks flat and placid from afar, but in fact is rife with obstacles and traps; and the last quarter-mile is straight uphill—the worst kind of position to assault. The Confederate charge was doomed before its start.
Midway across the field, the gloom turned suddenly to pitch-black and lighting bolts began to crash all around us. While I was wondering whether I'd put on clean underwear, Bearss kept advancing, lecturing nonstop and pointing out the sights with his swagger stick, like we were alone at night in a museum. At one moment, a waterlogged band of cavalry reenactors trotted out of the dark, stopped before us, and merrily saluted Corporal Bearss (a former Marine).
It was surreal.
In an interview, videotaped in 1986 for his PBS documentary, Ken Burns asked Ed Bearss why anyone should care to visit a battlefield like Gettysburg.
Bearss answered, "Even if a person is a latecomer to the United States, these sights are close to them: they can feel them. Many of the lessons—particularly the crisis of our time over integration—would have been much more serious, if the Civil War had not happened. The Civil War showed the supremacy of a central government."
I wish every flag-toting cracker who's unhinged by the "13 percent's" demand to enjoy the rights afforded by the law of the land would walk the route of Pickett's Charge.
Only when you're on foot can you see, from the lay of the land, why Robert E. Lee believed his army had an opportunity to smash the Northern line—and why, in reality, Lee never had a jot of opportunity. The field looks flat and placid from afar, but in fact is rife with obstacles and traps; and the last quarter-mile is straight uphill—the worst kind of position to assault. The Confederate charge was doomed before its start.
Midway across the field, the gloom turned suddenly to pitch-black and lighting bolts began to crash all around us. While I was wondering whether I'd put on clean underwear, Bearss kept advancing, lecturing nonstop and pointing out the sights with his swagger stick, like we were alone at night in a museum. At one moment, a waterlogged band of cavalry reenactors trotted out of the dark, stopped before us, and merrily saluted Corporal Bearss (a former Marine).
It was surreal.
In an interview, videotaped in 1986 for his PBS documentary, Ken Burns asked Ed Bearss why anyone should care to visit a battlefield like Gettysburg.
Bearss answered, "Even if a person is a latecomer to the United States, these sights are close to them: they can feel them. Many of the lessons—particularly the crisis of our time over integration—would have been much more serious, if the Civil War had not happened. The Civil War showed the supremacy of a central government."
I wish every flag-toting cracker who's unhinged by the "13 percent's" demand to enjoy the rights afforded by the law of the land would walk the route of Pickett's Charge.
He'd learn without doubt his cause was lost.
NOTE: What better day than Juneteenth to plan your visit to Gettysburg? The park reopens next week.
UPDATE, SEPTEMBER 16, 2020: Ed Bearss passed away at the age of 97 today. RIP.
