The Storm

Chapter Eleven

Henry ’ s Story

W e had just finished supper. Henry poured us both another cup of coffee and settled in front of the pot-belly stove. "You’ve never told me your story, Henry,” I said. “What story?” Henry replied. “Yours!” I exclaimed, almost shouting. “Not much to tell son. Like most folks, I guess,” Henry replied. “Come on, Henry. I’ve told you about my stuff, my job, my girlfriend, and my aspirations. What about yo urs?” I egged him on. “Yeah, you had to. Or I was gonna shoot you!” Henry laughed. I just frowned. “I’ll tell you the general stuff. The other is private. Fair enough?” he asked. “Fair enough," I responded, “Go on." Henry continued, “Most folks came here to what is now called Ruby to get away from the devastation of the Civil War. The scorched earth policy under Sherman and his so-called “march to the sea” scattered the settled south and put people in a world of hurt. Carpetbaggers, as they were called, ravaged what was left of homes and property in the southern states, stealin' anything and everything they could put their hands on. And the northern politic took over southern farms and long held family plantations. The plantation owners fled, fearing for their lives from real or imagined retribution from former slaves still present in the south and from Union soldiers. Nowadays folks call it the Civil War, we still call it The War of Northern Aggression , 'cause there wasn’t anything civil about it."

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