Ghost of a Confederate Prisoner of War
“Home. I want to go home,” the story begins of a Confederate prisoner of war. A friend’s grandmother, age 76 and a worker at the historic society, tells a story of Point Lookout. During the Civil War, the Union had a prison for captured Confederate soldiers near Point Lookout. With a warm and friendly voice that shows the sign of age, the storyteller joyfully recollects the story. She has the tale in book, but recalls it from memory. She knows the story so well that one could hardly tell it was not being read word for word. When speaking the voice of the ghost, she softens her voice, making the voice sound afraid and evoking sympathy for the unfortunate boy.
Point Lookout was originally a hospital for the Union. Shortly after the war had begun in full swing, a few prisoners were sent to Point Lookout to be kept under guard. The numbers kept on growing, with a huge increase after the battle in Gettysburg. At its peak, there were 50,000 captured soldiers held prisoner on the site, and a total of at least 4,000 died (Point Lookout, MD., Prison Camp). Point Lookout was close enough to the battlegrounds to send captured soldiers there with ease, yet was surrounded on three sides by water, thus making it difficult to escape.
Johnny Moore, a Boy Scout from troop 748, is on a camping trip in Point Lookout, a site frequented often by campers and nature enthusiasts. But Johnny Moore’s experience was different. In the middle of the night, Johnny is awoken by a voice calling for home. Usually this is fairly common, as the young scouts will miss home fairly easily and call out in the night. Most of the time the scout masters tend to these issues fairly quickly, however the callin...
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...e leaving the audience wondering about the details of exactly how Benjamin Goode died. The story can be read in a scary fashion, or in a calm and peaceful matter. Subtle twists or additions could easily be made the story more hostile. The connections to actual historic characters make this story more believable and draw the audience in even more. Specific details, such as the soldier's name and background, make the story more personal and more memorable.
Works Cited
Harriot, Ray. Stories for Around the Campfire. Campfire Publishing Company: Laurel, MD, 1986.
"Point Lookout, Md., Prison Camp." The University of Michigan. 9 Apr. 2006 http://www.clements.umich.edu/Webguides/Schoff/NP/Point.html.
Coleman, Dorcas. "Who's Afraid of Ghosts?." Department of Natural Resources. 9 Apr. 2006 http://www.dnr.state.md.us/naturalresource/fall2001/ghosts.html.
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It was our fifth day in the Philmont Scout Reservation in New Mexico, the halfway point of the trek. I as the Crew Leader was responsible for the other 11 members of the crew, including 4 adults. I was in charge, and amazingly the adults rarely tried to take over, although they would strongly advise me what to do in some situations. Phil, with the exception of me, the oldest scout and the Chaplain for the trip, was my second. Together we dealt with problems of making sure everyone carried the right amount of stuff in their pack to who had to cook and cleanup each day. The trip had gone well so far, no injuries, and the worst problem had been a faulty backpack. As I walked I thought about the upcoming campsite. Supposedly this one had running water from a solar powered pump—so had the last night’s site but the tank was too low to use for anything but cooking because the of how cloudy it had been of late. But today was bright and shinny, and hot, so I didn’t think there would be a problem.
It came away in my hands like stale bread. I had two thoughts racing through my head at the time. I had to escape and run to the north, and I had to bring by brother Matthew with me. He was the only family I had left. He was working at the far side of the plantation on the east side at the edge of the field. I reached the east side of the plantation after ten minutes of weaving in and out of store houses and the trees that bordered all of the fields. I got close to my brother and got his attention. When he had gone over to where I was, I told him that we were leaving. We had been planning this for over a week and we knew that nobody would be by that half of the plantation for a little less an hour. He nodded and said "Let's get going
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Watching the window not knowing why she tossed and turned feeling an uneasiness that she could not shake. The thunder rumbled softly and the lightning on the horizon flashed light across the bedroom walls. The wind began to whistle loudly around the log home. Jenny felt uneasiness, and softly reached to touch the shoulder of Blade. Not awakening him she decided to slip quietly out of bed to peek in the distance of the upcoming tragedy that she never thought would happen. As she moved sleathfully around the house, the windows seemed to rattle an alarm. The wind now not only whistled but wailed in the surrounding pine woods. Not knowing what to do Jenny sat in the living room window searching for a tragedy she felt was about to con some her life