It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived.
“This was in June, 1866. Frank wrote for me to come to him at once, and although my own wound was still very bad, I started immediately and stayed with him at the house of Mr. Alexander Severe, in Nelson county, until he recovered, which was in September.”
“I realized that the only way to get into a good college was to be valedictorian or salutatorian. So that was my goal.”