It had been an extremely cold night. The north wind had blown a late February freeze over Mississippi. Uncle Seth felt the cold in his joints as he slowly moved to the fireplace, pine knot in hand. Soon, he had a blazing fire going in the hearth. He peered through the window and saw twelve-inch icicles frozen to the white-oak shingles along the roof’s drip line. Each one shimmered like diamonds as the rising sun pierced through the translucent ice.

“Get-up boys!” Uncle Seth called to his young great-grandchildren. “Ole Jack Frost has decorated our house with diamond daggers.”

The crackling fire and Uncle Seth’s curious announcement were all that was needed to get the boys out of their warm beds. One glance through the iced-covered window-light and they immediately began to dress for the outside. After all, you don’t see something like this very often in south central Mississippi.

“Come on boys! Let’s go down to the pond and break the ice so the mules can get a drink of water,” urged Uncle Seth. Reaching the pond, they found the ice almost too thick to break with the ax. This was the perfect invitation for the boys to try their skill as ice walkers. Their slick leather-bottomed brogans were no match for the ice. As soon as their feet hit the ice, head over heels and down they went! Uncle Seth chuckled at their youthful antics.

“Okay boys! Ya’ll a-getting too far out. The ice is too thin to support you out there in the middle,” the old Confederate Veteran warned.

“Ya’ll come here, and let me tell ya’ll about one of my good friends who witnessed a Confederate POW escaping from a Yankee prison camp on ice skates!” he declared. “My friend F. G. Connellee from Bertrand, Virginia, told me about the time he and a lot of our men were confined at Point Lookout. The Potomac River was frozen over, and the Yankee soldiers were having a great time with their ice skates. Our poor boys were watching – most of ‘em had never seen any one on ice skates before. One Southerner was watching with greater curiosity than the rest. He kept asking the Yanks about the magic that held the skater up so well on slick ice. Well, this provided the Yanks with great fun – the poor Southern fool (they thought) was so dumb (as they figured most of us naturally were) that he didn’t even know about ice skating. The Southern fool kept asking his silly questions to the amusement of his captors. Soon, he made the outlandish statement to the Yanks that ice skating didn’t look too hard and he bet that he could do it.” Uncle Seth stopped to see if the boys were following his story.

“What happened Uncle Seth?” inquired Curtis as he once more slipped on the ice.

“Well boys,” continued Uncle Seth with a chuckle, “That dumb hayseed put on those magic skates and immediately began to slip, slide, and fall around just like you’re doing, Curtis. The Yanks were having a great laugh at this poor fellow’s expense. Slowly, he slipped and fell his way toward an opening in the Yanks’ line of guards. Then, as if by magic, that poor dumb Southerner shot through their lines and began to speed skate with perfect form up the Potomac River! Oh, you should have seen the astonishment on the faces of those brilliant and intellectually superior Yankees! For precious moments they just stood there watching in disbelief as their prisoner dashed for freedom. At last, they shook off their dismay at what had been perpetrated upon them and sounded the alarm. It looked like a scene from a comedy show. There went the Confederate skater in perfect form, speeding away up the Potomac River with Yankees in full uniform slipping, sliding, falling, and cursing, attempting to shoot at the low profile of the speed skater. Of course, his fellow POWs were cheering him on, but looking up river they could see a break in the ice. It was a tract of water about thirty feet wide kept open to allow boats to move up and down the river. On the other side was Maryland and freedom. The Confederate skater never slowed down. Reaching the break in the ice, he jumped into the air, and aided by his tremendous speed he cleared the break, landed on his feet on the other side, and -- just to rub salt into the Yankees’ wounded pride – he stopped, spraying ice everywhere, and waved good-bye to his captors!”

The boys loved to hear the old Confederate Veteran’s stories. He loved their company and knew that soon he and his aging comrades in gray would no longer be around to tell their stories. Who then would give meaning to the sacrifices made by the men who wore the Gray in the War for Southern Independence? Uncle Seth sighed; the weight of defending the honor of the South was greater than anything he had endured during the War. If Curtis’ Yankee schoolbooks were any indication, it wouldn’t be long before everyone in the South would hate him and his comrades. “Yes,” thought Uncle Seth, “the victor is not satisfied with only stealing our freedom. He is now moving against our memory.”

© James Ronald Kennedy, www.KennedyTwins.com. Uncle Seth is a fictional character. His adventures are based on actual events as told by Confederate Veterans and other Southerners who were actual witnesses to the events described.