Last week we were cleaning out the farmhouse we are planning to move to, when I discovered an old envelope filled with photo copies of service records of Private Leeper Dobbins who served in the Civil War.
It took a few phone calls to find out that Leeper was my grandmother's grandfather. Leeper was the son of a sharecropper and chose a career in the Confederate Army over digging sweet potatoes, raising tobacco and whatever else was done on the farm in those days. November of 1862 was the date he volunteered for the Tennessee 9th Volunteer regiment and was immediately marched to Tiptonville, Tenn., on the Mississippi River. There they turned north and were marched to Island Number 10 in the Mighty Missisip. The Union Army was headed south to meet up with David Farragut (damn the torpedoes full speed ahead) coming up from New Orleans.
It was there, on Island Number 10, 5 months after joining up that my triple great grandfather became a POW. He was marched to a POW camp near Chicago, then 2 months later, marched south to Vicksburg, Miss., for a prisoner exchange. He then was marched to North Carolina where he was given parole by none other than the Arsonist of Atlanta, General William T. Sherman! He was then marched back to west Tennessee. It was now 1865. Evidently, they felt sorry for him and his calloused feet. I do remember no one in our family ever had the urge to go on long walks for some reason.
Now I have worked for, with and alongside a lot of Yankees in my nearly 60-year career in the farm equipment business. Never once have I had a cross word with any who mentioned they whupped our Southun' butts long ago as I endured a lot of time in the Milwaukee area. I never complained about the fact that northerners cooked their tomatoes and ate their green beans raw.
I did, however, have a few twinges of genes irritating some nerves when one suggested we walk over here or there or stroll through this or that facility that I never understood. That is, until I learned about old granddaddy Leeper's more than suggested trail humpins during the entire war of Northern aggression. I guess it explains the sense of satisfaction I felt when our Milwaukee area headquarters was moved to the Atlanta area. Also, we never said much about all those fellow workers who are all retiring and moving to the south. Don't reckon a single one of the few 'South of the Mason-Dixon liners' we sold tractors with, retired and moved up North.
But I digress from being a part Pvt. Leeper's marching legacy. Now, our nation is coming up on its 250th birthday. I am proud to be an American (Southern American) and a part of the greatest nation on earth. Our founding forefathers set up the means to allow our nation to heal itself of its flaws. I am proud to be a part of this nation and of its agricultural ability to feed ourselves and a lot of the rest of the world. We are proud to work with all the peoples who make up the fabric of our nation — and yes, poke fun at one another, and ourselves, along the journey. It is the American way.
‘Til next time, fly the flag, sell your socks off, and enjoy each other and celebrate every moment of being a part of how we got to our 250th B-day party.
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Told from the perspective of an in-the-trenches owner/operator — Tim Brannon of B&G Equipment, Paris, Tenn. — Equipment Dealer Tips, Tales & Takeaways shares knowledge, experiences and tips/lessons with fellow rural equipment dealerships throughout North America. Covering all aspects required of an equipment dealership general manager, Brannon will inform, entertain and provide a teachable moment for current — and future — leaders within equipment dealerships. |
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