Project Moving On, and a Story -The Lt. Colonel

Two weeks ago, I began a project on Tyvek (see here) and showed the materials to be used on it. I have worked on it as I could and here are some update photos. I have actually done a lot more since I took these pictures but I haven't photographed them yet. But at least you can see how it's proceeding!

There are several paint layers on it now, and it's evolving, as these projects often do, into something completely different than I had in mind when I began. I will update soon!

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The Lt. Colonel

52nd in the Tuesday Story Series

My father was born in South Carolina and my mother in Pennsylvania, so I have ancestors who fought on both sides during the Civil War. On my father's side, among many relatives who fought, one was his great grandfather who was a Lt. Colonel in the Confederacy. 

Born one of eleven children, Daniel Livingston married Narcissus Fanning and they had  ten children, one of whom died in infancy. The only photo I have of them shows him in his uniform, and her in a simple dress with a thin kerchief around her neck. She looks forlorn and tired, even more so than subjects of photos from that era usually do. During the years I was doing research on the family line, I was contacted by someone who claimed that he was descended from Daniel and his wife's sister. I had noticed that this sister was living with them when one of the census records were taken, so it could very possibly be true. With DNA testing available now for genealogy testing, it would be easy to find out. If it were true, that could explain why she appears the way she does.

Daniel joined the CSA as a Captain in Company B, Unit 1, Hagood's SC Infantry. He was wounded in Second Manassas and Sharpsburg. A story has been passed down that he was severely wounded during the Manassas battle and was found by a Virginian family and taken back to their home and nursed back to health. In gratitude, he named his seventh child after the family and the town they lived in - Quincy Fairfax Livingston. A family named Quincy living in Fairfax VA hasn't yet been located but it could still be possible.

If you have read anything about the armies during the Civil War, you will know that they do not reflect the US Army as it is now. On both sides, the men were free to leave after their three month subscription, or leave when it was time to plant or harvest. Officers were elected by their men, or named so by commanding officers who perhaps had favorites among the men they commanded. It was a loosely organized group on either side. I found letters my grandfather wrote requesting supplies and his handwriting was beautiful, which indicates that he had an education. At some point, the men he commanded complained about him after he was promoted to Lt. Colonel and he resigned his post. On the surface, that doesn't reflect well on him, but as I have read and studied that period, it was not an uncommon occurrence. After he left on 3 Mar 1864, he joined a local garrison in South Carolina, which was glad to have him.

I found his obituary in a small South Carolina newspaper, the Southern Christian Advocate, written by his pastor, George H. Pooser. It reflects the life of a man who earned respect, even though he had made mistakes. I think it's a reflection we would like to speak of ourselves when we are gone - that we suffered the frailties of our human form, but in the end we were "prepared for the change" as we go forward into eternity.

“Livingston SC- 

Col. Daniel Livingston was born in Orangeburg Co. SC Nov 27, 1827 and died Oct. 28, 1881. He was married to Miss Narcissa M.C. Fanning, April the 5th, 1849, joined the Methodist Church at the Boiling Springs Camp meeting and made a profession of religion six years ago. He rose to the rank of Lieutenant- Colonel in the Confederate army, was a man of strong attachment and warm friendship. Like other men, he had his faults, but he had the gift of drawing others to him. He was attacked with paralysis about five years ago, but recovered partially from it, so that he was able to go about until last March, when he was stricken down and confined to his bed almost constantly until he died. I visited him frequently during his last illness, and he assured me on several occasions that he was prepared for the change; as he did members of his own family before he breathed his last. He leaves a widow and blue (?) children, with a large circle of relatives to mourn his loss. Said one who knew him well, “Colonel Daniel Livingston will be missed.” He bore his sickness of seven months with much fortitude and patience, and his remains now repose at Hebron Church, Edisto Circuit.” G. H. P. 

Come see my latest postcards I've received on Postcards Buffet!

Tag Tuesday - Tag on Tag, and a Story: Daddy's Girl

Today's theme at Kard Krazy was to do a tag with a tag. This was not one of my better days energy wise, but I hate to miss this challenge, so mine is pretty simple (as compared to the one I did last week)!

(click for detail)

Tag cut outs with a quote from Tennessee Williams, ribbon and jeweled brads.

Daddy's Girl

Seventh in a Tuesday Story series

The summer I turned six, my parents purchased their first home. We were living in a small frame house which belonged to the U.S. Navy, since both of my parents were veterans. At that time there were three children in the family, with the fourth on the way so more room was needed. The new house was several miles away, across a couple of rivers and on a large island. I was beginning first grade, and my parents enrolled me in the neighborhood school not far from our new home. However, school started a couple of weeks before our scheduled moving date and so my father drove me to the school and picked me up each day. 

I have such fond memories of that small period of time, because it is the only time I can remember having my father completely to myself. He chatted with me as he drove me to school, and after school, he took me back to his office in downtown Charleston and I thought it was the greatest fun to be able to be part of his day like that. My father was the County Extension Agent, working for Clemson College (it wasn't a university yet) and all of the county and municipal offices for Charleston were in the old Citadel, the original site of the military college. 

The old Citadel building had been built before the Civil War and had its first graduating class in 1846. During the Civil War it was active until 1865 when Union troops captured Charleston and occupied the building and the grounds. It remained confiscated property of the Federal government for 17 years and was used as a garrison by Federal troops until 1879, when it was ordered to be returned to the state of South Carolina. The building and grounds were immediately returned to the military college and they remained there until 1918 when a much larger campus was built on the Ashley River and the old building was converted into offices for the city and county. The offices were not air conditioned and still retained the original architecture. During restoration of some of the offices, numerous historical items had been found, including bullets from the Civil War, military buttons and buckles and even one or two old cannon balls (still viable!). A few years ago, the property was bought by Embassy Suites and turned into a 5 star hotel. The outside facade is the same, but hardly anything remains of the inside.

The Old Citadel Building

Daddy's secretary used to save papers for me to staple together, or had me do other "odd jobs" to keep me busy. The building had an open quadrangle on the inside, and all of the floors had a walkway around the quad and I could wander up and down the floors as long as I did not disturb anyone. On the floor above my father's office was a small canteen where I could get an occasional bottle of soda, or more frequently, a cup of ice water. I loved going in there because there was a huge fan in the ceiling roaring at its highest level and blowing everything around. The canteen had a screen door, which would made a satisfying noise when it slammed shut behind me. I would stand between the fan and the door enjoying the breeze created between the two. When it was time for Dad to leave, we had fun talking on the way home. 

This idyllic situation only lasted for about two weeks and then I was riding the big yellow school bus between home and school. I missed that time with my Dad and as the years passed, I never again got the chance to spend one on one time with him except for rare occasions. My father worked hard, often gone in the morning before we got up and home long after we had gone to bed. It wasn't until years later that he realised how much he was missing and changed jobs. By that time I was a teenager and could not have cared less whether he was home or not. (Or at least that's what I pretended.) Much later, as adults, I told him how much that time had meant to me, and he remembered it well and told me it had meant a lot to him too. I was happy to know that, but a little sad that I had not known it then, or in the ensuing years. When I became a mother, I asked my husband to please make it a priority to spend one on one time with our daughter, which he was very happy to do. It has proven to be part of the strong foundation for the loving relationship they enjoy today, 27 years later.