Reenactor Withdrawals

I’m experiencing reenacting withdrawals. If there’s one negative about my current location, it’s the distance from my friends and comrades. From my classroom, I see flurries of snow. I can’t tell if they come from the heavens or the snow guns on Sugarloaf. I have coffee in a new mug I received during Christmas. And lately, I’ve been researching details for a Civil War period film I’d like to produce. Some of my symptoms include a probable Civil War weekend movie marathon in period clothes, practicing Oh Susannah on a harmonica over and over while playing the spoons, and a desire to don my uniform and tramp out in the woods to search for forage. Note to self: I need to purchase a frock coat.

On Coffee and Pipes:

The coffee on the table doesn’t quite match the flavor or scent of camp coffee. It’s missing the smoky aroma. Moreover, I’m missing the tin flavor from a camp cup. I can’t shame the current coffee before me; it’s Carrabassett Coffee Company – some of the best, in my opinion. But I miss a burning cup in my hands surrounded by companions trying to find the one spot where the smoke doesn’t burn our eyes.

I used to smoke only during reenactments. I liked a cigar once or twice a season with a mate. One year, I brought a pack of Backwoods to a few events. I enjoyed that flavor over a harsh cigar. It’s only this past year that I decided straight whisky and cigars are not my style, as much as I wish they could be. I purchased a pipe this year though, and that’s been used thoroughly during encampments. 

Something about a pipe and coffee feels right. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine…there’s something to be said for the tobacco and coffee candles. The two textures are essential to most reenacting events. I could go without the pipe, but not coffee. Honestly, the first thing I think of when I pick up either the pipe or a cup of coffee is reenacting. Sometimes, I leave campus to enjoy a few puffs and ponder when the next time will be to see my friends. 

On Friends

During Christmas break, I found time to visit my friends Dalton, Sam, Brendan, and Adam. If anything, that only made my withdrawal worse. We ate tender brisket smoked by Dalton. Sam contributed buttery mashed potatoes. We talked about history. Adam stoked a fire, adding to the atmosphere of good company. 

Update: the flurries indeed fall from the heavens.

As I hear of my friends heading off to winter events with sister units, there’s a jab of jealousy.  In my 13 years of reenacting, I have yet to participate in a winter encampment. This is not for lack of invitation. I haven’t yet purchased winter equipment. While I found a great corps of friends here in the Valley, I miss those further south. I have found pleasure partaking in modern activities with my peers here. We play board games, ski (okay, just once so far), and engage in other contemporary antics. My reenacting friends join me in the hobby of course, debating politics, and visiting historical locations. In both cases, bonds formed fairly quickly. 

Dalton and I met at an event in Livermore Falls, ME. Norlands is a living history farm where reenactments were hosted every other year for decades. Unfortunately, they no longer do so. In any case, I was with the 15th Alabama at the time, and Dalton had joined the 3rd Maine. Our first experience together was enacting a trade between Yank and Reb. I offered some good tobacco in trade for his coffee beans. Not many of the public saw this, despite our efforts performing the exchange on the lawn of the house. We shared but a few words before departing ways. After, Dalton swapped uniforms and I was shocked to see him in a literal shotgun wedding with Sam. I had the privilege of participating in his legitimate wedding last year to the lovely Sam. 

It was a couple of years before Dalton and I met again, again as “foes.” As time wore on, I joined the 3rd Maine. We are in the same organization now and have “fought” at Antietam, Gettysburg, Chickamauga, and Spotsylvania in recent years. I find him to be an excellent companion for trips, in camp, and outside of Civil War events. 

More recently, I’ve come into contact with Kathy, Joel, and Jess. We all live on campus and share similar values. Kathy and I are new teachers here at CVA. That in itself brought us close as we spent a week during new hire training together. Joel (a similarly handsome, good-natured, bearded man) is probably the kindest man I’ve met in a while. We share a sense of humor founded on dad jokes and dry wit. Jess is my next door neighbor, who provides counsel and entertainment. Together, we’ve shared many excellent adventures. We have known one another for just a few months, but it feels right, as if our lives have been planned to intersect at this point all along (yet I don’t believe in this sort of pre-ordained destiny).

At present, I may have to simply give in to those symptoms. With my next reenactment not until April, I need to find some way to stop the Civil War twitch in the meantime. Thankfully, I’ve found great friends here—people who don’t blink an eye at the prospect of a Civil War movie marathon or my questionable harmonica and spoon-playing skills. Good people, indeed. Maybe I’ll convince them to join me one day, but for now, I’ll take the plunge into a period winter encampment solo—right after I buy the frock coat for warmth.

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