I had planned a quiet afternoon, smoking my cigar by a peaceful southern river. But as I rounded the corner to the waterfront, I began hearing the patter of small arms fire. An engagement was underway (or just ending). Presently, the big guns began to boom and I knew the Confederates were hard-pressed. As I rounded the bend, I saw two encampments, but the CSS Albemarle (an ironclad ram) had won the river and the day was ours.
“Who won?” I asked a costumed passerby.
“The good guys” he said, with a wink.
As I looked out over the sea of white faces I felt a hope for the future.
Our people are still alive.