Well once again Minooka has come and gone thus bringing our beloved hobby to seasonal end, which is why I both love and hate this event.  I love it because it is one of the greatest events we do (has been ever since I first attended it in 1997), but hate it because aside from reading and writing, this is my only hobby, one that I don’t like putting away for five to six to sometime seven months at a time.  That said I do have to admit that I was a little relieved to see this season come to an end, because, frankly, I was exhausted.  So much happened this year (much of it unexpected) and we attended so many events, that come Minooka I was almost completely burned out (hence the reason this review and film has taken so long), and then was pretty much pushed over the edge by several incidents that occurred (two of which I was kind of asking for, so I can let that slide, the other of which was just idiotic -- for those that were there and are close to me you know which one I’m talking about, for those that don’t know the situation, rest be assured that is has nothing to do with reenacting, and instead a career I was involved in for several months right after my wife died, which I have since put behind me, but which won’t stay buried it seems).

Anyway, the event began Friday afternoon when Tom arrived at my house.  For several events the two of us have been driving together in an attempt to get a good campsite for our unit and to straighten out any registration details that have purposely gotten screwed up by certain former members of Austin’s Battalion that don’t like our new unit.  Thankfully this time around there hadn’t been an attempt to screw us over, so I thought we were in the clear, but that was before I walked into the Confederate camp area and saw the disaster looming before us (wall tent city with very little room for our mess).  Fortunately we were able to secure a spot.  Unfortunately it was right up against a camp that we wanted nothing to do with given the unfriendly faces within, but hey, you make do with what you have and try to make the best out of every situation, right.  Knowing we would be neighbors for the weekend I even tried to make peace with one of the individuals, someone that was a great friend for many years (and the only true reenactor amongst the mess that surrounds him), one whose path has saddened me.  My attempt was shot down, however, and made me realize it is time to close the door on that friendship.  Oh well.  

So, in an attempt to clear my head of that incident I took Tom up onto the battlefield to show him what he could expect to see the next day (this was his first time there), and then started back toward the camp where I hoped things would be nice and restful for a while, but then was confronted by the leader of a dismount unit, one that I have liberally criticized several times in the past for being poor reenactors, who had taken offense at some words I had used to deny his boys involvement in a candlelight tour scene at Lockport.  Eventually our conversation ended and I was reassured that the unit was much more accurate than I had given it credit for, but then, afterward, was told by many other reenactors that what they saw in that dismount camp during the event and on the battlefield was pretty bad, and that having called me out for criticizing them, should have put some effort into cleaning up their portrayal, but instead went about doing things the same way as before, almost as if they wanted to highlight the criticism I wrote about.   

Thankfully the rest of the unit arrived shortly after that and we were able to get into the spirit of reenacting and started to enjoy ourselves.  Even better, many of the Cornfed Comrades showed up as well and camped right next to us, thereby giving the spectators a nice big example of what the camps really looked like during the Civil War.

The next day started out well.  We had a nice big breakfast of biscuits and gravy, compliments of Lisa, one of the most authentic women civilian reenactors in this hobby (one who, in only a year, has done more research than most men in this hobby and has brought to our attention how involved women really were in the stationary camps of the Civil War, something most of us had never really been interested in but have now come to appreciate).  After breakfast we headed up the hill onto the field to drill, which looked good, and was even entertaining thanks to a few interesting moments that showed how light hearted we all are, and then headed back down to the camps to talk with the spectators, many of whom were very interested in our camp and wanted to know more (always a great thing), and who kept us on our feet answering questions up until the battle, which, sadly, wasn’t planned out very well and looked pretty stupid and was boring.  Afterward, however, we had a nice field hospital scene, one which got a lot of gasps from the crowed as I spit up blood from a lung wound and slowly died, Tim and Ian holding my hands as I slowly faded, their hearts aching with the loss.  

After the battle and field hospital scene we headed back to camp and started getting ready for the night, one which was going to be cold, but thankfully, not as cold as the weekend before at Savanna.  Camp ready for the night, we headed to the ball (and corn maze where some of us got lost) and then, because it was October, the graveyard down the road where Tom, Shawn and I sat and patiently waited for some ghosts, my camera constantly taking pictures but then malfunctioning (the batteries died even though they were brand new, batteries that work fine now almost a month later).  Dewey made an appearance at the graveyard as well after a while and we filled him in on some of the spooky noises we had been hearing near the tree line.  After that I upset some of the guys by shouting at whatever was out there and taunting any otherworldly beings into doing something that was cool rather than making stupid sounds.  

Once back at camp we sat around the fire while the Cornfeds put on a show, which was fun, and then called it a night, one which I found incredibly cold frustrating because my body was in some pain from my disease and wouldn’t let me get to sleep.  

The next morning we feasted on bacon which left a nice pan full of grease for us to dip bread in before cooking up some potatoes and onions (all of which eventually turned my intestines into a gastrological waterslide again, which made driving home fun).  After breakfast we had a short drill, which involved some bayonet fun (especially once Mark and I faced off in front of the battalion).  Finished with that we headed back to camp, answered more questions and then did some more bayonet duels, which ended with another broken bayonet (my own this time).  Not long after that we were called to battle, which, unfortunately, was just as dull as the day before, though we were massacred nicely, which again ended with a field hospital scene, where, as usual, I died, blood gushing from my lips as I gasped for air.  

Thus ended the Minooka event, an event that closed the door on one of the more interesting reenacting seasons I have taken part in, one which ended on a good note despite all the crap that occurred in August and proved to everyone that no matter what real reenactors will always find a way to be out there at events, while those that just want to dick around with politics and screw everything up will do so from home, far from eyes of the spectators, their importance to the hobby fading with each missed event until eventually everyone forgets about them and the hobby moves on.    

Dewey-san covering up Sunday Morning