Here, here to history dorks.....
I'll drink to that.
Years ago myself and some friends, in sore need of some adrenal stimulation, hatched a plot at the Western Sizzlin' Steakhouse in Jacksonville NC to "retake" Fort Macon for the Confederacy. We conducted a few preliminary recon missions and decided 0430 on a Saturday would be D-Day. In the meantime we acquired some Confederate hats, a flag, some gray clothing for uniforms, etc. We also contacted a former Marine buddy of ours who was a radio newsman at WKIX in Raleigh and told him to release the news of our assault at 0800 that morning.
The day came. We suited up, drove out there, parked a mile from the fort, conducted a predawn approach. Upon arrival we crossed the dry moat and hoisted one another through the lowest windows (which, BTW, were barred shortly after this escapade
).
We ascended the battlements and planted our Johnny Reb flag. Fort Macon was once again in Confederate hands.
A caretaker showed up at 0745. He was this old dude who started freaking out. We calmed him down in due order and told him we wouldn't interfere with the workings of the Fort. He was free to open the gates for the tourists. But we weren't going to take our flag down.
At 0800, the guy in Raleigh went on the radio and announced that a "heavily-armed band of men dressed as Confederates have apparently retaken Ft Macon."
About an hour later six NC Hiway Patrol cars and about four truckloads of National Guard showed up at the entrance to Ft Macon. The troopers could see all the tourists walking around unmolested and when the caretaker assured them we were unarmed the situation quickly deescalated. But there was a moment there when we were able to attain a little of our sought-after adrenal kick.
They were going to arrest us but we did some fast-talking and managed to worm out of it only because the troopers were some good ole boys. But they kicked us out and told us we had to take our flag with us.
Three years ago, one of my boys was playing baseball in the Coastal Plain League for the Morehead City Marlins, and when I went up to see him play I revisited the site of our famous attack. It was an emotional journey for me, an old warrior returning to the battlefield...and only copius amounts of beer and Jack Daniel's shooters could alleviate the PTSD.
