I, too, grew up on stories handed down from the family Rebs. My g-g-grandfather told my grandfather stories about the Civil War, which my grandfather then passed on to me. It's about as close to a first-hand account as anyone of our generation can get.

My g-g-grandfather didn't tell my grandfather much about the blood and gore -- most combat veterans don't -- but he talked a lot about camp life, the hardships of poor rations and no pay, the long marches, the depredations of jayhawkers at home, and especially Gen. Sterling Price. He, like most of the Missouri and Arkansas boys who served under Price, thought Sterling Price hung the moon. My grandfather passed on those stories to me, and I thought Price walked on water until I began reading about the Civil War later in life. I have a much more critical opinion of Price now.

When I was a little feller, my grandpa used to take me fishing and squirrel hunting with him. While rambling around in those hills, he would point out an old homestead, usually just the remains of an old chimney, and pass on stories about the family that lived there, the jayhawkers burning the place, etc. Sometimes I'd tag along when he visited his friends, and he taught me to always holler "Hello, the house" from the lane before going up to the house. He said it was a holdover from the days of bushwhackers and jayhawkers.

One of my biggest regrets in life is that I didn't think to tape record my grandpa's stories.