Fort Yargo State Park, Georgia
by Mickey Kulp
The year 1792 saw the birth of the US Postal Service, the first presidential veto, and the construction of four forts along the restless Georgia frontier regions near Talassee, Commerce, Jefferson, and Beadland. Of those four outposts that once straddled the middle ground between rival Creek and Cherokee people, only one now stands.
Beadland eventually became known as Winder. But the last remaining outpost still bears its original name: Fort Yargo.
Recently, I traveled to Fort Yargo State Park to meet some members of the Fort Yargo Living History Society, a group of volunteers who are dedicated to using period tools, clothing, and techniques to give visitors a peek at Georgia frontier life in the 1790s. They strive for accuracy, and they mean it.
During my visit, the Society was replacing the mud and straw (called “chinking”) on the old blockhouse. This is a fun event, especially for the kids.
When I arrived, I saw two large mud holes filled with children. And this was not some delicate, mash-the-mud-barefooted activity. This was full-contact mayhem, requiring everyone’s Outside Voice. Children were rolling in the red clay muck, happy as a butcher’s dog. Possibly, some of the more enthusiastic participants needed to be hosed off before their parents could even recognize them.
William Butler Yeats said, “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t yet met.” I never realized how true that could be until I started talking with the men and women who give up so many hours (and decades) of their time to make a dream into reality. Soon, we were chatting like old pals, sharing stories about our adventures as comfortably as neighbors over the back fence.
Zack and I discussed the plight of the local natives due to European diseases while he slathered a thick layer of red clay between the fort’s massive timbers. Unlike modern concrete, Georgia red clay shrinks very little when it dries, leaving a smooth strip of light material between the dark logs.
This was not a place where a rope or a “stay back” sign separated you from the action. The Society volunteers let visitors pitch in as fully as safety allowed. A young girl shelled dry corn into a wooden bowl while another waited her turn to grind it with a large pestle. And three tomahawk targets, unmolested today, hinted at more fun that could be had some other time.
Omer and Juanita, a married couple who are some of the founding members, sat in the shade, taking a well-deserved break from the oppressive heat. Around 1980, they both got involved in Living History in California. When they moved to Georgia, they found another group and, around 1995, organized their energies into preserving Fort Yargo.
“Most people didn’t even know it existed,” Omer said.
Omer, a skilled woodworker, built most of the benches, tables, shelves, and beds inside the fort using traditional tools and techniques.
Throughout each year, the Society invites the public to events ranging from hands-on cooking classes and our chinking party, to ghost stories and a visit with Santa. But, the highlight of the year is the Colonial Market Faire held every spring. In 2016, the Market Faire will occur March 31 through April 3.
The event “seeks to demonstrate colonial life during the late 18th to early 19th centuries.” And, to underscore the Society’s seriousness, they go to great lengths to assure that all clothing, furnishings, guns, knives, shoes, hats, baggage, eating utensils, and cooking utensils used or sold will be authentic to the pre-1800’s .
For example, we were discussing the small sheds near the fort. When I asked if you could take a regular shed and add fake woodwork to make it look authentic, Darrell, the volunteer Sergeant of Arms who diplomatically refrained from thumping me on the forehead, was very definite in his response.
That night, I slept soundly in my tent, and my two remaining companions guarded their beloved fort from inside. And if we dreamed of long rifles and dutch ovens full of biscuits, we did not mention it the next morning. Instead, we drank strong black coffee, shook hands, and parted. Strangers no more.
If You Go:
The blockhouse is located within Fort Yargo State Park at 210 S. Broad Street, Winder, GA 30680. There is a $5.00 parking fee, but annual passes are available. The park is open from 7:00am to 10:00pm. Check the park web site at gastateparks.org/FortYargo for updated operating hours and admission prices.
The web site for the Fort Yargo Living History Society is: fylhs.com. The living history group is usually onsite on the third Saturday of each month.
The city of Winder is less than a mile from the state park. You will find many shopping and dining opportunities there.
Colonial reenactors showing winter hunting gear.
Patriot reenactors guarding the fort.
Primitive woodwork demonstration.
Fort Yargo, built in the 1790s.
About the author:
Michael Kulp is father of two mostly grown children who successfully survived his shenanigans through smarts they inherited from their mother. He is an Eagle Scout, writer, and passionate outdoorsman who collects tattoos, indulges in fine Viking mead, and enjoys living history events. For his latest adventures, visit www.WehaliBushcraft.com
On the first Friday of December the whole town comes together for the annual Christmas tree lighting. The streets are lined with trees lit up in bright white lights. Every shop window is fully decorated with beautiful holiday displays. The streets are closed down for this special event as community members are encouraged to stroll from store to store and vote for their favorite display. Store owners welcome familiar faces into their shops and spoil them with treats and beverages.
10, 9, 8 – children are shouting! 7, 6, 5 – their voices getting louder in anticipation. 4, 3, 2 – everyone is buzzing, ONE! The cheers erupt as the beautiful tree is lit up and on display for the whole world to see.
The tree has many other elements that make it extra special. Local community groups including the Boys’ and Girls’ Club decorated floats that went around the tree like garland. The high-school arts class made beautiful foam starfish that donned the boughs of the tree. Even the tree topper was special this year, with an Angel holding a starfish high over her head.
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Andersonville was originally named Camp Sumter. It was built in early 1864, as Confederate officials wanted a larger space to house thousands of federal prisoners from Virginia and Georgia. In its short life, the camp confined 45,000 soldiers. Over 13,000 died from starvation, disease, overcrowding and poor sanitation. Half of all Union prisoner deaths occurred at this horrific site. From February, four hundred Union soldiers arrived every day and by the end of June, 26,000 men occupied a space that was originally designed for 10,000. One of the first stops was the entrance to the North gate. You can walk up the hill and follow the footsteps of where Union soldiers entered the prison for the first time. This was an incredibly powerful experience. One soldier exclaimed on his arrival, “is this hell?” I stood there for a while, trying to imagine the sights and smells those soldiers faced. Of course, nothing I could imagine would come close: people complained about the stench of the prison ten miles away. At its height, 130 prisoners died every single day. It was such a high rate that coffins could not be built fast enough. Instead, bodies were dumped in mass graves. Opposite the North gate, there stands a large empty field, originally the place where the prison hospital stood. Many soldiers refused to go, knowing they would never come out. Now all you can hear is the wind rustling through the tall grass.
As the circular loop goes round, the last stop informs the visitor about sheltering the prisoners. The Confederate army could not supply adequate food or clothing, and soldiers were expected to make their own tents out of any material they could find, a small sheet or ripped trousers which was meant to protect them through rain or shine. Many had no shelter at all. Unsurprisingly, it was a “hell on earth.”
A national cemetery was established at Andersonville in the summer of 1865. During the Camp’s operation, prisoner Dorence Atwater was assigned the task of recording the soldiers who died for the Confederate officials, but unbeknownst to them, Atwater kept a second copy for himself. After the War, Atwater wanted to give the Union prisoners a proper burial, and when the federal government spurned him, he enlisted the help of Clara Barton. A heroine of mine, Barton founded the American Red Cross and nursed thousands of men during the War. Atwater and Barton identified over 12,000 soldiers buried at Andersonville. There are over 500 unknown soldiers buried in the cemetery, something I have always thought of as a cruel twist of fate since visiting the First World War battlefields of France. Today, Andersonville is still an active cemetery (active in the sense that soldiers can choose to be buried there) and the roll call presently stands at 18,000.
In these days of distaste for the Confederate flag and all it represents, North Alabama continues to take great pride in preserving Pond Spring, the home of “Fightin’ Joe” Wheeler, the only former Confederate general buried in Arlington Cemetery. In truth, the Confederate flag never flew in front of Pond Spring. General Wheeler was also important in the Spanish-American War, served in the U.S. Congress, and did much to promote reconciliation of the North and South in the late 1800s to early 1900s. Joseph Wheeler was not just a Southern hero, but much more, he was an American hero.
Annie Wheeler, third child of Joseph and Daniella, showed her own patriotic dedication by serving as a Red Cross nurse in three wars She was the last family member to live in the home and was responsible for bequeathing the buildings and all of their contents to the State of Alabama for historical preservation. The 50-acre property has several outbuildings, including a dogtrot log house built around 1818, and an ice house. Delightful stories exist about the railroad track that runs near the entrance to Pond Spring.
The tallest monument, in the family cemetery several yards behind the house, adorns the grave of Daniella Wheeler. An identical obelisk sits atop General Wheeler’s grave at Arlington and is the tallest marker in the entire cemetery, standing an impressive 45 feet. After it was erected, the Arlington Committee quickly enacted a policy specifying future heights and widths of monuments. They were afraid the competition of outdoing others for “bigger and better” would get out of hand. A smart move on their part.
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