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The Sylvania Times
Wednesday, May 11, 2022 - Page 3
Editorial
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From the
Editor’s Desk
-Joe Brady
The Sylvania Times,
Editor
In my family, my baby
sister, Dana has a hard
row to hoe. From my
self to my middle sister
to our parents, Dana is
still treated as the baby.
Despite the fact there is
10 years difference in
our ages, she remains in
my eyes a child. I suppose it is true what the experts say
about our mind seeing what we want to see, because I
must admit that when I look at this 42-year-old mother
of one I still see a toddling two-year-old playing with
baby dolls in her room and asking me to brush their hair.
Do all older siblings look at the younger ones in the
same light? I find myself at family gatherings constantly
admonishing her, “Dana, wash your hands, it’s time to
eat,” or “Dana, don’t rock in that chair!” I stop short of
cutting her meat but bless her heart, I’m sure she stays
confused and would probably like to tell me where to go.
Several years ago, a psychologist told the world that the
middle child in families have the most problems, but I
must disagree. At least the middle child isn’t smothered
their whole lives. Let’s face it: our younger siblings will
always be the babies. Do they complain? I suppose they
are accustomed to having a houseful of mothers.
Dana seems to take my nurturing in stride, albeit with
gritted teeth and a roll of her eyes. However, the truth of
the matter is that even though I know I treat her like a
child I can’t seem to stop. Bossing Dana is as natural as
breathing; you just do it. I imagine that when she is old,
gray and a grandmother of six as we sit in the nursing
home, I’ll still be treating her like a child, “now Dana
don’t dribble your food,” or “for Pete’s sake, put your
teeth in when you talk!” And what will Dana be doing?
Sitting there, following my barked orders, rolling her
eyes, and wishing she could tell me where to go. That’s
all for now, take care!
_
Pastor Bill Kent,
Memorial Baptist Church
Reggie walked with his
Family to the graveside on
a cold and rainy morning in
January. The Minister spoke
comforting words and told
a few heartwarming and
humorous memories of Ber
nice. As the funeral directors
lowered her body, it seemed
like half of him was buried
underground. He still had a
home and children that loved
him but he didn't know how
he would keep on living. He
went back to work several
days later at the plant but he
struggled to concentrate and
he felt like a dead man walk
ing but he kept on working
and his boss and coworkers
helped him in every way they
could.
In the midst of his incredible
grief, God strengthened him
but after thirty days people
stopped calling and reality
slapped him in the face. She
wasn't coming back home but
he knew that God is still real
Better Days
even when we lay awake for
half the night and don't know
where we fit in anymore.
Then Reggie started read
ing the Bible every day and
saw that God brought lots of
people from despair to vic
tory but they had to pray and
wait for months or years. In
the psalms, Reggie saw how
David and other writers were
lifted up by God's power.
As God rescued the people
in Bible times from danger
and sorrow, the Lord steps
into our weeping room and
gives us enough hope to get
up for another sunrise. As
time passes, we may or not
see a storybook ending but
God renews us on the inside.
Then we join the host of be
lievers who praise God for
his deliverance because we
will see better days either in
this life or the life to come.
See PASTOR page 6
Ogeechee Ramblings
Scotty Scott
1
Dow and July
to the
editor
This is not a story to glorify
war or the ghosts of the
Confederacy. It’s about
the humanity of one special
human being; a black man
named July. According to
Margaret Scott Harley and
Donny Mallard, July had a
thick accent, but they didn’t
know if it was Jamaican or
perhaps Gullah. At any rate,
though a slave, he became
very close friends with my
and Donny’s great-great-
great-grandfather, Lorenzo
“Dow” Scott. Dow loved
horses, and as July was
purportedly very good with
them as well, he served as
a mentor of sorts to Dow in
that respect. Anyway, it has
been repeatedly established
through the legends of the
Scott family that July and
Dow were bosom buddies,
and wherever one was,
you’d usually find the other.
At the outbreak of the Civil
War in 1861, Dow Scott
joined Screven Troop of
the 5th Georgia Cavalry
Regiment. He participated
in many engagements
throughout Georgia, South
Carolina, and Florida,
including the Battle of
Olustee, also known as
Ocean Pond, and you
guessed it - July was with
him through all of these.
During the Third Battle
of Atlanta Campaign on
21 Aug 1864. Dow was
mortally wounded near
Dalton, Georgia. As he was
hit in the lower abdomen.
he didn’t have much of
a chance. July, having
witnessed Dow getting
wounded, entered the affray,
and pulled Dow to safety
to keep him from being
trampled to death by the
horses. After the skirmish
moved off aways, July took
Dow to a Union Hospital,
and remained with him until
he died on 28 Aug 1864,
(he was 42). After seeing
Dow buried in the Union
Cemetery near Dalton,
Georgia, July returned to
Screven County, travelling
almost 300 by night, as it
was quite dangerous for a
lone, unknown black man
to be openly on the road.
After almost a month of
travel, July made it back to
Beulah Crossroads, where
Dow’s widow, Jane Ann
Catherine Griner Scott, and
their children resided. He
informed them of everything
that had occurred and where
Dow was buried. His eldest
daughter, Eugenia Scott
Powell, visited Dow’s grave
before an attempt was made
to move the Confederate
dead out of the Union
Cemetery, with the remains
being put into a mass grave.
Now, as I am a product of the
twentieth century, I wonder
why a slave, being in the
presence of Yankee soldiers
up above Atlanta would
come home, when he more
easily could have continued
northwards to freedom?
The only thing any of us can
SEE RAMBLINGS page 6
“A big thanks from Very Special Field Day”
Dear Editor,
I would like to offer a tremendous thank you to the Screven
County Community for a wonderful Very Special Field
Day for our exceptional students. We asked for the sup
port of our community, and we were overwhelmed with the
response. Thanks to the many people who volunteered, we
were able to provide a mentor for each student and extra’s
to help with event tables and ribbons.
God provided a beautiful day, and our sponsors, volun
teers and staff came together to provide everything else in
the way of food, drink, and manpower. Our athletes were
excited to have their own personal mentor from the com
munity and I believe that not only did our students receive
a blessing, but the volunteers did as well. The sounds of
laughter all around the recreation department filled hearts
and made grownups smile.
We are already actively planning for a Very Special Field
Day 2023, so if you missed it, I hope you will plan to
join us next year for an even bigger and better day for our
children.
Sincerely,
Pam Reddick - Collins
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Sylvania Times Printing Services
Unearthing Camp Lawton
Dr. Ryan McNutt, Ph.D, FSAScot, R.RA.
In the last column, I discussed the cargos brought into the Confederacy and their effect on the war effort and the home front.
It is almost impossible to overstate how well supplied the Confederacy was through the blockade. On March 14th, 1862, the
Economist arrived in Charleston, with 100,00 rifles and ten field artillery batteries—that’s 60 cannons, with harnesses for all
sixty. April 1862, the Kate ran into Charleston with rifles, pistols, cartridge boxes, knapsacks, and accoutrements for 10,000
men, and with 1,000 barrels of gunpowder.
As late as December 1864, equally large cargoes of munitions and essential supplies were being run into Wilmington, North
Carolina prior to the fall of Fort Fisher in January 1865. As were food and medicine: in February 1864 the Pet was taken by
the USS Montgomery off the coast of Wilmington loaded with “provisions, fruit, vegetables, liquors, and dry goods”. Given
the perishable nature of her cargo, it was divided amongst the blockading squadron’s sailors. Indeed, British shipyards swung
into action to meet the demand for blockade mnners: in Scotland, along the banks of the Clyde, the shipbuilders who were
making the name Clyde Built famous produced nearly 150 individual vessels who would run the blockades for mercantile
firms. And shipyards in England along the Mersey, the Tees, and the Tyne and Wear were equally productive.
Long, sleek, with low profile side wheels, telescoping raked back steam funnels; shallow drafted, only drawing about 7 feet
and painted a dull lead color, these ships ran cargoes across the Atlantic under British captains, crews, and the Union Jack
into British ports along the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic coast. Halifax, Nova Scotia, Havana, Cuba, and Nassau were
crammed with Confederate blockade runners and crews who offloaded and picked up cargoes that were run into Southern
ports. Most of these voyages were private enterprise, done not for ideology, or because of support for the Confederacy, but
for profit: one successful run of the blockade brough $119,00 in profit, or about $2 million in today’s money.
Each captain was paid about the equivalent of $20,000 in today’s money, not including any money they made on their own
cargo sales. Indeed, the captain of the Don arrived in Wilmington in 1863 with 1000 corsets for the women of the Confed
eracy; they sold immediately, netting him a 1100 percent profit of about $48,000 in today’s money. And the return voyages
fueled the cotton exchange and maintained the lifestyles of the planters.
So, if there were so many supplies, why was there deprivation, the reader may be asking. Railroad issues aside, they were
complicated by the sins of inefficiency, greed, and incompetent bureaucracy. In October of 1864, General Winder, CSA, and
head of prisons for the Confederacy was attempting to finish the brick ovens at Lawton to provide the POWs a central cook
ing resource. Except he couldn’t get bricks brought into Lawton Station, writing “[a]t Macon three cars were being loaded
with brick for Camp Lawton when the railroad company had them unloaded, and the cars turned over, as I understand, to
cotton speculators to transport cotton. “Greed for the money to be made with blockade runners.
Later correspondence also clearly indicates resources in Augusta, at the arsenals and depots there with General Hardee,
CSA ordering 8,000 rations of meat and bread, 1,500 bushels of corn, and other resources from
Augusta to Millen on November 25th, 1864, days after the POWs at Lawton had been loaded LAWTON
up with pittance of com meal and sent south. And across the Confederacy, soldiers scrounged,
starved, and shivered from the trenches of Petersburg to the fields and turnpikes of Franklin,
continued on page 9
thesylvaniatimes.com
Sam Eades Publisher
Joe Brady Editor
Sam Eades Advertising Sales
Debbie Heam Layout and Design Executive
Sarah Saxon Admin/Legals/AP Correspondent
Burton Kemp Sports Editor
Jake Gay Staff Writer
Scotty Scott Staff Writer
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