Historical

: By Gene Kizer, Jr., Charleston Athenaeum Press; Published: 01 March 2021

"The radical view of American history is a web of lies, all perspective is removed, every virtue is obscured, every motive is twisted, every fact is distorted and every flaw is magnified until the history is purged and the record is disfigured beyond all recognition." - President Donald J. Trump, Speech at Mt. Rushmore, South Dakota, July 3, 2020

There are bills before the legislature in South Carolina, and law suits raging across Georgia. The suits are all at a critical stage and those who are fighting hard for Southern honor and American history can win but desperately need us to reinforce them by calling legislators and especially giving money!

: By Confederate Veteran magazine, Vol. XXVII, No. 5, May, 1919; Published: 18 January 2021

Address by Col. E. Polk Johnson at U.D.C. Convention in Louisville, April, 1919 (from Confederate Veteran magazine, Vol. XXVII, No. 5, May, 1919)

[Publisher's Note, by Gene Kizer, Jr., Charleston Athenaeum Press :

It was this time of year, one hundred and sixty-one years ago, that seven Southern states, believing with every ounce of their being that "Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed," seceded from the old Union and formed a new nation on this earth: the Confederate States of America.

: By Gene Kizer, Jr., Charleston Athenaeum Press; Published: 11 January 2021

I have written about this before because it is an extremely good idea, and the Georgia Division, SCV, is leading the way.

They are suing more mayors and council people as "individuals" (meaning they are being sued personally) for voting to remove Confederate monuments in direct violation of Georgia's monument protection law. The Georgia Division, SCV, press release of December 22, 2020 is below in its entirety.

The Georgia Minutemen have been promoting this approach too.

: By Gary McCullough; Published: 27 January 2020

The whistle bellowed and the tracks creaked, as we slowed, then stopped. Shaking from the cold, I knew my anxiety would soon pass. Folded in my vest pocket was my future, my family's future. The deed to a dairy farm, complete with four cows. We had sold most everything in order to secure our peace; to purchase this deed and the train tickets my wife, my two bundles-of-joy and I were now traveling on.

We brought with us our remaining precious belongings, including my father's watch, safely tucked in my suitcase. Monica and Teresa each had their suitcases, stuffed with clothing, most of which their mother had hand-sewn, and assorted treasures my four and six-year-olds had stowed away. Each held tightly a doll from their Aunt Olga. My family was ready to start our new life. Here, far from the war, far from the anger and bitterness that had come with the war. Here in our new home in Oświęcim.

: By Gary McCullough; Published: 27 January 2020

The whistle bellowed and the tracks creaked, as we slowed, then stopped. Shaking from the cold, I knew my anxiety would soon pass. Folded in my vest pocket was my future, my family's future. The deed to a dairy farm, complete with four cows. We had sold most everything in order to secure our peace; to purchase this deed and the train tickets my wife, my two bundles-of-joy and I were now traveling on.

We brought with us our remaining precious belongings, including my father's watch, safely tucked in my suitcase. Monica and Teresa each had their suitcases, stuffed with clothing, most of which their mother had hand-sewn, and assorted treasures my four and six-year-olds had stowed away. Each held tightly a doll from their Aunt Olga. My family was ready to start our new life. Here, far from the war, far from the anger and bitterness that had come with the war. Here in our new home in Oświęcim.

: By Tony Perkins - Family Research Council; Published: 02 December 2019

Plymouth Rock FRC

It's been chipped and cracked, dropped and completely submerged. For America's Plymouth Rock, the journey has been anything but easy. For more than 120 years, it sat anonymously on the Massachusetts waterfront -- just another boulder, until an elderly man asked to be carried to the beach to say goodbye. Plans for a new wharf were underway, set to bury the exact stretch of sand where Thomas Faunce's father and the rest of the pilgrims had landed. That rock, he said, "had received the footsteps of our fathers on their first arrival." It should be, he urged, "perpetuated to posterity." Thanks to him, the son of a Mayflower survivor, it was.