My whole body jerked with the boat as it lurched to a stop, hitting the buoys on the dock of the small island. I watched my parents, mom with her face glued to the window as she "oohed" and "aahed" at the fort just rising above the mist of the morning, commenting on every aspect of what was visible, and dad as he removed the hat from his face after being rudely woken up from his nap. Oh, family. A bast of cold violently shocked my body as one of the ship hands opened the front door of the ferry, "We will be leaving at 12:00 noon, sharp. Be on the boat at approximately 11:45 AM or we will be leaving without you." This gave us about an hour, which was enough time for me, but I could see out of the corner of my mom's eye that it wouldn't be nearly enough time. I smiled to myself, I hope my mom never changes.
"Ready?" My brother, now a nuclear engineer in the Navy, placed his arm around my shoulder and smiled down at me. It had been almost two years since I had seen him and it felt like no time had passed at all. He had just finished his nuclear training at the fort here in Charleston and we had come up to watch the ceremony and to celebrate. I smiled up at him as he led the way for our family to the gang plank and onto the rocky shore of Fort Sumter. It is always strange to me how different you feel when you step into a preserved historical landmark, how you can sometimes actually sense the air change to an older, more distant essence. The walls that would seem like a giant castle to a younger child seemed unimposing and quite penetrable to me. The holes in the wall every 10 feet away from each other where the cannons would shoot through - I felt like I was stepping onto an island pirate ship. The families and school groups swarmed as my family and I briskly beelined for the entrance, desiring some warmth and a break from the cold sea air. Once I stepped inside it was a bit different than expected. A small bunch of tourists (which I despise admitting I was one of) were broken off from the larger group to listen to a very tall, very slender tour guide who you could tell had repeated this specific monologue once too many times today, and it was still wasn't noon yet. My dad was already loosing interest and slowly backed away from the group, no doubt to get down as close as he could to the water to discover small crabs while my brother, being the good Navy man that he was, listened intently and responded to the tour guide when appropriate. Mom was there, arm around my waist soaking up all the time that she had left with her two kids, knowing that this would be one of the last times we would all be together like this. With me living in California and my brother with his wife on the East Coast, it is a rare occasion to have us all together at once, and even a rarer occasion to have it just the four of us. The guide readily ended his speech, beckoning us to look around but to not climb on the cannons.
They were massive, exactly like the ones that would have been on a pirate ship, set on semi-circle tracks that would allow for the cannon to be moved by about five men to hit the target. They were massive hunks of metal...and were so enticing even for a 21 year old to climb onto, he really should not have said that with so many kids in the audience. The windows in which they would shoot out of were rounded perfectly for movement and aiming - I could imagine men dressed in uniform, red faced and sweating under the humid sun, pushing these heavy cannons to aim at an enemy vessel.
"Ready...Aim.... FIRE." I snapped out of my trance to see a little 8 year old boy with a coonskin cap and a stick he must have brought with him from the shore, he was standing on the little ledge underneath the hole that the cannons shot out of, thrusting his stick out like a rapier, ordering his imaginary men to follow his every command. I chuckled to myself as his mother came over and grabbed him off the ledge, chiding him for being so loud and lightly spanking him off to another section of the monument. I half-followed the kid over to an old storage/armory room. It did not have a roof but you could completely imagine what it would have looked like when it was active, with people going in and out, making assembly lines during an attack. My little entertainment found another friend and they began to pretend that they were in a real battle. Coon-head whispered to his friend, "Here, you hide over there and pretend like they are coming in from that way. I have the gun so I will be right here by the door. Tell me when you see them." she nodded very seriously as she ran behind one of the stone benches, shaking with fear as she peaked over the bench and stared right at the door, exactly where I was peaking through. "THERE!" She yelled pointing in my direction, the kid jumped out and pretended to shoot with his wooden stick. "Oh no, I've been shot!" someone shouted behind me, I heard a thud as they then fell to the ground, convulsed once then was silent. The kids were genuinely amazed as they slowly walked over to the person on the ground. I couldn't help but laugh silently as the boy looked at the fallen foe and then his comrade, held his breath then crouched down next to the body. "Is he dead?" the little girl asked. The boy reached out, almost touching him, and put his head down. "Yes. Our colonel is dead." I choked up a little. Suddenly the boy shot up and grabbed the girls hand, "No time to lose! We have to hide from the Juggernauts!" I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Convincing, wasn't I?" The dead colonel smiled as he got up and then rejoined his group who were making their way over to the memorial gift shop.
I searched for a little while before spotting mom's bright blue blouse through one of the observation tower's cracks, then climbed the stairs that led to it. From up here I could see the entire monument; not everything is as it seems, the structure was two times the size that it looked. There was a big courtyard on the other side that had a great flag in the middle. It was a cloudy day so we could not see out very far - I felt as though I was one of those kids, imagining civil war times with people everywhere, the fort under attack and the ringing crack of cannons through the air. Fort Sumter in 1861was a Union base that defended and fought against the Confederates, one of the only ones on the eastern half of the United States. The fort was quite the building, looking as if it was just sitting in water instead of on an island, with it's walls leading right into the ocean's edge, the pictures made it look like a spectacle, a dazzling colonial building. The one last great battle that took place on the fort ended in Union surrender, surprisingly though the only casualty that happened did not happen during the battle but during the 100 cannon salute - one of the cannons misfired and killed one of the soldiers after about 50 shots were fired. Though it does not look like much now and definitely does not look like it once did, it stands proud and strong against the constant beating of the ocean and thunderstorms that rack the South Carolina coasts. The fog started to dissipate and we could see more of the land and how close we were to it, how frustrating that must have been during the war because they would run out of rations and could not get to shore because South Carolina was confederate country. There is so much about this little spot of land that shows the strength and dignity of America and what it stood for. Though we are a spot in the countries of the world we will still stand, though surrounded by enemies we will still fight even to the bitter end. As we made our way back to the ferry, laughing with my family and remembering how wonderful it is to be able to experience life together, I came to appreciate even more than before why America is so great and why my brother is so determined about his job. The people that fight for this country are the people that have a vision - the same people that had a vision for this fort, that when it was decayed and crumbling, our people - the American people - would be FREE; free to come whenever they wish to see the remains of what had been done for them. To remember that they loved this country and that they in extension love us because we are the generations they fought for. We are the people that they were thinking of when they loaded these cannons and fired them against those that would not defend the rights of all. Remember that when you have the urge to climb up on that cannon to first respect and remember what happened here was patriotism - it was love at its deepest.
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