Wednesday, August 2, 2017

We Long to be Free!

An Address given on the Occasion of the Observance of Confederate Flag Day
Raleigh, North Carolina | 03 March 2017

SEVEN SCORE AND SIXTEEN YEARS AGO, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new union, freely chosen and legally adopted by eleven Southern States with the consent of the people, and expressed through their chosen delegates in solemn assembly; and being dedicated to the principles handed down to them from their own fathers as a birth right and as an inheritance, namely:

That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of the stated purposes for which it was expressly created; that it is the right, indeed, it is the duty, of the people of the states to alter or to abolish the existing order, and to institute a new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them and them alone shall seem the most likely to affect their Safety and Happiness.

Beginning with the earliest intercourse between the colonies, through the adoption of the Articles of Confederation, the ratification of the United States Constitution, and compromises and concessions too numerous to count, the social, economic, ideological, and cultural differences between the Northern and Southern sections of the Union—which had always existed—became a situation that could no longer be ignored or “fixed.”


  1. Brock,
    Great read. Highly recommended.

    If this don't get ya goosebumps and stir your soul, y'all just ain't right!

    "The grey riders are gone, but yet they remain. Asleep in our soil, and alive in our veins. Untouched by fire, untouched by frost, they whisper within us, “Our cause is not lost.” –Unknown


    1. You know, when I got to the end I thought of putting it first in the post, but here is a replacement! :)

      No monuments or marble shafts
      Keep silent record of the time
      When grey clan ranks of warriors rode
      The Indian Nation line.

      But mists of time have not eclipsed
      The ancient stories of the day,
      And still the whispered words are heard,
      "Stand Watie passed this way."

      The noon of darkness casts its spell:
      Dutch Billy's bugle sounds once more
      And Watie heads his column out
      To ride through legend's door.

      Now once again the muskets fire
      While "Eagle" Buzzard spirits soars,
      And smoothbores spew their deadly hail
      As Watie leads to war.

      But now - the Red Fox rides no more,
      No bands of men, with muffled sound
      Slip through the night to strike at dawn;
      The fight is thru, the moon is down.

      Now who will sing old Watie's song,
      And who will tell his tale,
      And who will keep the rendezvous
      Along the Texas Trail?