I is for IRONTON, OH

by Kathy Cannon Wiechman

My novel LIKE A RIVER travels through several states, but it begins and ends in Lawrence County, Ohio. Why did I choose Lawrence County? Because that’s where Ironton is.

Ironton is where my father was born and grew up. I spent many summer days there when I was young, visiting with Grandma Cannon and aunts, uncles, and cousins. Going there for research gave me a chance to visit family.

www.sbu.edu

Ironton is a small town compared to Cincinnati (where I live), an Ohio River town with gently rolling hills. It’s a place where people know their neighbors—and care about them. It’s a place I feel comfortable.

As its name suggests, Ironton is an iron and steel town. During the Civil War (when my novel takes place), the foundry there produced mostly cannons for the war effort.

www.appalachianhistory.net

Most of its residents favored the Union side—but many did not. After all, Kentucky is just across the river.

www.riverboatdaves.com

Actually, three states edge together there. Ohio, Kentucky, and West Virginia. (I remember from childhood that the TV stations in Ironton were broadcast from Huntington, WV.) Ironton is peppered with Southern flavor, from the accents of its people to its hospitality and charm. It was a flavor I wanted to capture in my book.

H is for HOSPITAL

by Kathy Cannon Wiechman

(Kathy’s A to Z blog posts are tidbits of fact gleaned from her research for her historical fiction novel LIKE A RIVER.)

During the American Civil War, hospitals were set up where they were needed, close to the battlefield. Surgeons’ tents were kept busy, and cities of tents sometimes sprung up to house the wounded.

Armies also took over churches, schools, and even private homes to tend to the wounded. After a huge battle like Gettysburg, nearly every building in town sheltered wounded from one army or the other.

A private residence appropriated to house injured and sick soldiers.

Amputations were frequent. It was the only known way to deal with severe wounds 150 years ago. Without knowledge of germs as a cause of infection, the same surgeon’s tool was used on dozens of patients without being cleaned. Many amputees died as a result, but 50,000 survived.

The hospital in my novel was inspired by Confederate Colonel Alfred Shorter’s home in Rome, GA. Originally used as a hospital for Confederate wounded, the Union Army used the mansion for their own wounded after they invaded Rome in spring of 1864.

When I toured the mansion, it was a school. Plans were being made to restore parts of it to its antebellum state. I’d like to make a return trip to see how it looks now.

G is for Goose

by Kim Van Sickler

[Kim's posts will all relate to her MG historical fiction novel with a paranormal twist: Muleskinner. Here's the pitch: An extraordinary canal dog gives twelve-year-old mule driver, Clay, the conviction to fight against a highly suspect Indenture agreement his pa supposedly signed...right before Pa was found swinging from a tree above Lonesome Lock.]

My orphan, Clay, thought he knew who his parents were. But the reappearance of Slice Fermer on the northern section of the Ohio Canal sets off a series of events that reveal Clay's true identity. His real father was a hapless gambler who lost everything and incurred a hefty debt. A hefty debt that Slice demands be repaid.

Clay's real father was nicknamed Goose.

Geese mate for life and Goose had been head over heels for Bonnie from the first moment he saw her. In fact it was his love for her and his zeal to settle down in a permanent home off the canal that inspired his gambling. Goose was a happy-go-lucky type other than being totally committed to the love of his life. He loved being the center of attention, especially when he brought out his clarinet. 

His life belied his death. Bonnie died giving birth to Clay, sending Goose into a deep depression. When Clay was three years old, Goose's body was found swinging from a tree above Lonesome Lock. Looked like a suicide. Or was it?

F is for Freighter

by Kim Van Sickler

[Kim's posts will all relate to her MG historical fiction novel with a paranormal twist: Muleskinner. Here's the pitch: An extraordinary canal dog gives twelve-year-old mule driver, Clay, the conviction to fight against a highly suspect Indenture agreement his pa supposedly signed...right before Pa was found swinging from a tree above Lonesome Lock.]

My muleskinner walks along with the mules pulling the freighter Bonnie Lass. His freighter measures about 80-feet long and 14-feet wide and carries supplies like pig iron, boilers, stoves, plows, and general supplies from Cleveland to Akron and coal from Akron back to Cleveland. It's made up of three cabins and the empty space in between: the stern (aft) cabin is where Ruby, the mother of Owen (the bowman) and Loomis (the captain) sleeps and doubles as the kitchen. The bow (fore) cabin is where the men (and Clay initially) sleep. The middle cabin is where the mules are stabled, and where Clay beds down with his new-found dog, Lucky.

The Bonnie Lass and walking back and forth from Cleveland to Akron on the Ohio Canal towpath is the only world that Clay has ever known.

E is for Easter

by Kim Van Sickler

[Kim's posts will all relate to her MG historical fiction novel with a paranormal twist: Muleskinner. Here's the pitch: An extraordinary canal dog gives twelve-year-old mule driver, Clay, the conviction to fight against a highly suspect Indenture agreement his pa supposedly signed...right before Pa was found swinging from a tree above Lonesome Lock.]

Hiking through Cleveland. Hey! Here's the Christmas Story house! It just happens to sit on the soon-to-be-restored portion of the towpath.

On Easter day 2013, hubby and I set off on a adventure trip inspired by the research I was doing on my book Muleskinner. The Ohio and Erie Canalway and a few other non-profit groups have worked to restore the old towpath trail from downtown Cleveland to New Philadelphia. The parts that are restored or in the restoration phase total 110 miles. 

I gave us five days to complete the journey.

The deal was we would travel light and stop at a different B&B or hotel every night to pamper ourselves after a long day in Northeast Ohio's unpredictable weather.

A fuller account of our travails is here. 

We made it! I walked the route of my muleskinner and much more, but averaged the time on foot per day that my muleskinner would have, substituting back packs for pack animals. It was a grueling life, not for the physically unfit. It left plenty of time for woolgathering and boredom to set in. And it sure made me appreciate the simple luxuries: like a warm bath, a bed, and food in my stomach.

Sort of like I imagine my muleskinner would feel.

Hubby passing Boston Cemetery

Kim at Dover Dam (about 100 miles into the hike)

Lunch every day was peanut butter and honey sandwiches. We'd take a GORP break around 4 pm.

We think this is the end of the soon-to-be-restored portion of the towpath trail. Blake's Mill Lock 13 in New Philadelphia.

D is for DEAD LINE (not to be confused with Deadline)

by Kathy Cannon Wiechman

(Kathy’s A to Z blog posts are tidbits of fact gleaned from her research for her historical fiction novel LIKE A RIVER.)

To prevent prisoners from attempting to escape from Andersonville Prison, a “dead line” was erected. Stakes were driven parallel to the stockade wall and about fifteen feet inside it. Eventually, these stakes were connected with scantling run across the tops of them. This formed a flimsy fence, which couldn’t physically hold a man in. But the men were informed that crossing the dead line would mean being shot.

This discouraged prisoners from getting close enough to rush the walls or tunnel under it. (Although many tunnels were dug in the Georgia clay anyway, escapes were few.)

Guards in “pigeon roosts” atop the wall were prepared to enforce the dead line. And a number of documented cases tell of prisoners whose lives ended because they crossed or ventured too close to the line. Others, who could no longer bear the hardships of the prison, crossed it to end their suffering.

C is for CAMP SUMTER

by Kathy Cannon Wiechman

(Kathy’s A to Z blog posts are tidbits of fact gleaned from her research for her historical fiction novel LIKE A RIVER.)

Camp Sumter is the real name of the prison camp that history remembers as Andersonville Prison.

As the American Civil War neared the end of its third year, the Confederacy’s prisons were filled beyond capacity with captured Union soldiers. A new prison was planned near Andersonville, Georgia. Built stockade-style with upright posts of yellow pine, Camp Sumter’s first prisoners arrived in February, 1864, before it was fully completed.

Intended to hold 10,000 prisoners, its numbers reached a peak of about 33,000 in August, 1864. More than 45,000 men passed through those gates to hell.

Prisoners often slept in makeshift shelters that offered little protection from the elements. They were underfed, and medical care was poor.

By the time the last prisoners were released from Camp Sumter in March, 1865, its cemetery and burial trenches held at least 13,000 bodies. Many men who had survived horrific battles took their last breaths inside the prison’s unforgiving walls. Sometimes deprivation and disease were a more formidable foe than shot and shell.