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A Day in the Life of...

My Adventure In Gettysburg

September 2007
by Deborah Lipsky

This past spring I had multiple speaking engagements in PA. so I decided to take a side trip to Gettysburg to see the battlefield. Instantly I fell in love with this sacred place and the civil war and a new special interest was born.

As a military collector I decided to bring home actual artifacts from the civil war since there were a few military antique dealers in town.   I parked 2 miles outside of town fearing hoards of tourists would be there in mid April [of course they weren't]. I wore my jet-black backpack with the winged skulls all over it [yes I am a closet Goth], my hiking boots, jeans, Maine T-shirt and military boonie hat. I also had with me a 4' walking stick with a carved raccoon head on the top of it.  I was some sight to see but being autistic and married I didn't have a need to impress anyone with what I wore. I did get some weird looks from people and they kept asking me if I hiked in from the mountains.

Anyway of all the military things I decided to collect I picked artillery and ammunition.  I bought 30 lbs worth of civil war lead bullets and then set my sight on the artillery rounds.  I bought 3 unfired iron ones with one being a howitzer. I slung them in my backpack, which is made in China and not designed for such weight.  I then spied 2 cannon balls I couldn't live without and decided to shove them in there too. I was packing about 70 lbs of weight by now and every step I took I would sway left and right like I a drunkard as when the cannon balls rolled around in there it threw off my balance. It was so heavy I couldn't even stand up straight. Still determined to make it all in one trip I staggered out the antique store. I stopped at another store to get a few postcards.  I was sweating from the weight and was hunched over like Quazi Motto.  The sales lady came over and asked if I was all right. I told her that my pair of cannon balls were so heavy it hurt my back to straighten up.  Oddly she then glanced at my chest. Boy she wasn't too bright, as anyone would know I had them in my backpack and not in my shirt.

Staggering once more out the store I walked past another antique place and I couldn't live without the 1863 musket and civil war handgun in the window.  I shoved the handgun in my pack but the rifle was too big. The dealer said he would wrap this 5' foot long musket in brown paper so when I walk down the street it won't look like I am going on a shooting spree. He told me if anyone asks tell them it was a golf club even though the brown paper was a snug fit and it looked like a rifle wrapped in paper bags.  As I walked out of town everything now was super heavy. The musket weighed a whopping 13 lbs. It was hot and humid and the water bottle, which was in an outside pocket of the jet-black solar cooker backpack, was so warm it was undrinkable. I was trying to be low key and not draw attention to myself so I took a short cut thru the national cemetery.  When I sat down to rest a minute by the entrance the weight of the pack immediately flung me to the ground belly up. The weight of the pack then snagged up the shoulder straps so that I couldn't take off the backpack. There I was in the national soldier’s cemetery flailing my arms and legs trying to get momentum to get up. I looked like an overturned June bug trying to right itself.  Not very pretty but after about 20 minutes and a dozen honks from passing by vehicles I did manage to get up.

I eventually made it to my vehicle and called Jon [my husband] to tell him of the awesome relics I had purchased. He was not so enthused by it as he said "Deb did you even consider the fact going thru Mass. with a handgun is an automatic 1 year jail sentence?? "  I retorted that of course I didn't know that but now that I do I will just plan on not getting stopped.

I purposely drove the speed limit home and obeyed all laws so as not to get noticed by state cops.  I found myself however behind a granny mobile. Ever notice that Buick Centurys and Buick Regals seem to be powered by little old ladies with blue hair or old men with fedora hats?? She was toodling along at 55mph on a 65mph interstate. After 10 minutes of that I lost what little patience I normally possess and decided to pass her. I floored it at a fast neck speed of 65 and was along side her when in my rear view mirror I spied a car coming up on me at about 100 miles per hour.  That set off all my autistic alarm bells and I freaked. I went to reach for the turn signal to show a lane change but in the stupid rental I wasn't familiar with I hit the windshield wiper control for fast. Then blue lights came on and I had one of those "Oh Sh.." moments.  I panicked and just swung back in the lane without bothering to find the turn signal.  It was clear I was being pulled over.  It was a starry night and here the state trooper walks up to my window while my windshield wipers are still on fast squeaking with every movement.  I was so nervous  [after all I had an arsenal on wheels]. He asked if I knew I had my wipers on and then I got mad. I said of course I knew and that he scared me by flying up behind me so fast. I don't remember what he said or I said immediately thereafter but I had one of those pragmatic language disorder moments when I said "Excuse me officer, but are you aware that you are also bound by the traffic laws of this state and unless you were on your way to an accident which you obviously weren't otherwise you wouldn't of pulled me over you were speeding".  He twisted that truth into something called "disorderly conduct". I then had a moment of brilliance where I just shut my mouth as I remembered he could throw me in jail if he knew what I had in the car.  I got a huge fine, which included failure to signal a lane change, and I pled guilty via mail and paid it. I made it home thereafter without event but boy I sure will remember Gettysburg for more than the battlefield.

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