The South Shall Rise Again, page 8
The problem with this poor bunch and their tribal claim was DNA. When they were tested, most of them had as much African in their DNA as Cherokee.
I found this very interesting. None of this made it into any of the history books I read in school, got from the library, or bought myself. I was startled to discover that some Cherokee balked at going to Oklahoma! Instead, they slipped deeper into the swamps or farther back in the shady hollows of Appalachia.
Later, some runaway slaves also succeeded in slipping deep enough into the mountains or swamps to escape slave patrols. The Native Americans shared their campfires with them and later adopted them into their tribal groups!
The two groups intermarried as boys and girls are wont to do. They formed their own tribe of stubborn souls that would not do what the White men with guns and whips told them to do. It seemed to me that these brave people deserve special status.
So, when I was asked to write a story about the end of the American Civil War, I saw a chance to tell the tale of those people. Such brave and stubborn souls deserve to be remembered even if we're only discovering their tale hidden deep in every cell of their progeny's body.
I have waited so long to publish this because so many of our families are scarred by war – even the Civil War of so long ago. My family is no exception. Many names in this story are real. The name of Allgood was a real person on my wife’s side of the family. I used real towns, real places, and real battles, because this easily could have been someone’s real story.
Sadly, like so many anthologies, it died aborning. I hope that you will still find this an interesting read.
I know I've been AWOL from the publishing business for the last three years. Covid knocked me for a loop, even though I stayed healthy. However, during the same three years, the health of Ellen, my wife of fifty-four years, grew worse and worse. Last Thanksgiving, her thirty-year battle with Fibromyalgia ended with her finding rest and peace. I miss her terribly, but she's no longer in such horrible pain.
With any luck, I'll get back to writing when the voices in my head start talk to me again.
Sincerely
Mike Shepherd Moscoe.
Mike Shepherd, The South Shall Rise Again
