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Doug is a man who lives and breathes American history. A dedicated reenactor living in Virginia, Doug is known for his meticulous attention to detail, from the authentic weave of his wool uniforms down to the historically accurate grooming of his hair. His dedication is so precise that he is frequently sought after to appear in documentaries and historical stock footage.
In 2007, Doug and a group of fellow historians traveled to Lewisburg, West Virginia, to participate in the anniversary of the Battle of Lewisburg. Originally fought on May 23, 1862, this clash saw Union forces successfully sever the vital railroad communications between Virginia and Tennessee. During that era, the county was still part of Virginia; today, it is a town steeped in the ghosts of its past.
The Lewisburg reenactments are famous for being immersive. One of the highlights involves an “interpreter” dressed in period civilian clothing who leads a small group of tourists through the battlefield. These tourists play the role of local refugees, being “secreted” through the lines to safety while the battle rages around them.
On this particular night, the air was cool and the sun had long since dipped below the mountains. Doug and 8â10 other men were portraying Union soldiers of the 1st Ohio Provisional Brigade. They had established a picket line near a historic church and an enormous, ancient tree. Their job was to receive the “refugees,” process them at the Commanding Officerâs tent, and direct them to safety.
As the group of tourists arrived at the picket line, the soldiers noticed something unsettling. Trailing at the very back of the civilian group was a young man in a Confederate uniform.
This was an immediate breach of protocol; all Confederate reenactors were supposed to be stationed at the field hospital at that hour. Assuming he was a lost participant or a messenger staying in character, Doug and his men took him into “custody.” Two Union guards were stationed with the boy against the massive tree while the rest of the tourists were ushered along.
The young soldier was striking. He looked no older than 15 or 16âfar too young for the modern reenactment circuit’s age requirements. He was slim, standing about 5’4″, with dark hair and deep, haunting eyes. He refused to break character, answering questions only in a soft, terrified whisper.
What caught Dougâs professional eye, however, was the boyâs uniform. It featured rare blue cuffs and collarsâa specific infantry style of which only 2,000 were ever issued. These uniforms were only in circulation for a brief window between February and June of 1862. Doug was impressed, assuming this kid was a brilliant fellow historian who had managed to source a museum-quality replica.
The scene reached its climax. As Doug and another officer began leading the civilians away, a scripted “shot” rang out. Doug performed his part perfectly, falling to the ground as if struck by a rebel bullet, sending the refugees scurrying down the escape route in a panic.
The moment the civilians cleared the area, the guards turned back to the tree to check on their prisoner.
The boy was gone.
The two guards were stunned. They had been standing mere feet from him. There were no footsteps, no rustling of brush, and no silhouette running down the open hill. One moment he was a solid, breathing boy of sixteen; the next, he had simply vanished into the mountain air.
The following morning, Doug searched the entire event. He spoke with the Confederate commanders and the civilian coordinators. No one had a reenactor fitting that description, and no oneâabsolutely no oneâowned that rare 1862-issue uniform. To this day, Doug is convinced they didn’t capture a reenactor that night; they had intercepted a soul still trying to find his way home from 1862.
đď¸ Think this was disturbing?
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