A New Beginning: My Journey with Addy

I think of Grandpa. He would be thrilled to see real Civil War soldiers. I nod, and Addy and I find a spot along the street to watch.

I have seen parades before, on the Fourth of July, but this is nothing like that. There is no big band, and no one is throwing candy. A single drummer leads the group, playing a solemn beat that seems to echo in my chest. The soldiers march past in perfect lines, standing straight and tall in blue uniforms with shiny brass buttons. Their faces look serious and proud.

Many people around us cheer and applaud, but not everyone looks happy. Some women and children are crying, and I realize these soldiers could be their sons, brothers, or fathers. They are not marching for fun. They are marching off to war.

I feel the coin in my pocket and think of great-great-granduncle Charley. This morning I did not even know I had a relative who fought in the Civil War. Now, watching these men, I feel almost as if I am watching my own family march off to battle. Is this what Grandpa meant when he said history is about real people?

Addy tells me her brother, Sam, wanted to be a soldier too, and that he wanted to fight for freedom. Her voice wavers as she says maybe he is doing that right now, somewhere. Before I can ask her more about Sam, she asks if I have any siblings of my own, and I tell her about my little brother, thinking of his silly duck walk. All of a sudden, I miss him.

Addy must see it on my face, because she wraps her arm around my shoulder gently and says we should be getting to the church.