May 21, 2012
It's startling when you are reading and unexpectedly see your own name in print. This happened to me yesterday. I was happily reading the Sunday newspaper when I suddenly found myself reading about myself. Doing things I didn't know I did.
It seems that I was a hero at a local Civil War re-enactment on Saturday. Yes, I remember being there but I don't remember doing anything heroic. I was just having a good time watching all the goofballs playing soldiers. I say goofballs because I have a few friends who actually get in the action. One of them has been in a number of these Civil War re-enactments and always plays a Confederate foot soldier. Come on, Jimmy Boy, when are you going to discover that the South lost that war and get on the winning side. After all, you are from the North and have a lousy Southern accent (yeah, some of these nuts go full-bore when they get into character).
But do you always have to be a character that gets killed? After to talking to Jim it seems like that's part of the plan. He says that he's too old to go running around a field all day so he plays a character that gets killed whenever he wants to quit and go to the sidelines for a beer. Maybe Jimmy Boy ain't such a nut after all.
Anyway, back to me at the War. I read the article carefully and I didn't remember doing any of the things I am credited for doing ... saving the lives of my men; leading a charge into a group of grizzly Confederate Rebels. Now, I've been in Civil War re-enactments in North Carolina but I was in the band and marched around the field playing music - not fighting. So the account of me being a combatant got my interest.
I was thinking that some journalist really had an imagination - writers tend to get that way from time to time. My actions were certainly worth reading even if I didn't do any of them. At the end of the article was a note that read: Pictures on page 4.
If they were going to write that much about me certainly there would be a picture of me. I was interested. I turned to page 4 and, sure enough, there was a picture of Joe Myers, bold as brass, loading a cannon. The caption read: Joe Myers and troops loading cannon. That explained it all.
The picture wasn't of me but another Joe Myers from York, Pennsylvania. He was much younger than me and almost as handsome!