Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 June 1916 — Crowded off the Grand Stand [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Cr owded off the Grand Stand

Colonel Dennies Digest fourtk oNulO

by Edoar White

OL. RICHARD DENNIE was hurt beyond the power of words. He had been deliberately snubbed by the Starcliff Fourth of July committee. It wouldn’t have cut so deep had he been consulted as to some arrangement of the program, or requested to take a seat on the platform.

Certainly he would not go there unless invited. That he wasn’t asked to “make a few remarks to the crowd” was a bit unusual, but he wouldn’t have minded that had the committee shown some consciousness that he was on earth. He knew the members had been in earnest consultation with the circuit judge and some of the leading lawyers many times, but not a word of advice or suggestion had any of them sought from him. The colonel recalled that as a young man he was in demand for Fourth of July speeches, and at other occasions. While not boasting, he felt quite certain his remarks had been appreciated. From his youth on he had always responded to the call when Starcliff required speaking or any other kind of talent. When he was a member of congress he had made addresses in every county in the district many times, and the people seemed delighted to arrange dates for him. Colonel Dennie reflected that he was close to seventy-five, and that maybe his people thought he had lived years too long, going on the Biblical limit. True, his head was clear and he was physically fit, but the world had no use for old men, he bitterly considered; it thinks if they are not dead at seventy they ought to he. What made it hurt so at this time was that the governor had promised to attend the celebration, and the affair was to be somewhat bigger than usual. For Colonel Dennie to have no hand in the exercises at all would be to place upon him the seal of a man forgotten. It was a torturing thought to a man who had always cherished an abiding affection for his people. “His” people! Ah! They were his no longer; they would have none of him. To them he was as so much old junk ready for the heap. Maybe the fact that Joe Sever was running things this year had something to do with it. Sever was prosecuting attorney of the county, and had congressional aspirations. He was a tall, aggressive fellow, smart as a whip, but a Yankee! That is, he was from “Down East” somewhere. And Colonel Dennie was a “rebel” of the fighting type. But out here in the free western air men had long since

buried the rifle, and taken up with the tools of trade. However, he reasoned, a Yankee never forgets, and now that one was in the saddle he would rideride roughshod over old “rebels” who had fought for a principle, and when licked had manfully acknowledged it and said “Amen” to General Grant’s noble advice —“Let us have peace!” Colonel Dennie was personally acquainted with the governor, and had been one of his stanchest supporters. He recalled that he had many kindly letters from the commonwealth’s chief magistrate, thanking him for his services. The governor, he knew, would be a little‘astonished to learn that his old friends had not even been-asked up on the grandstand. Joe Sever would he there wearing a badge, and looking important; that was bis way. Most likely it was through jealousy he had ignored the

governor’s old friend at Starcliff. All right. Colonel Dennie was not the sort of man to run after anybody! If the executive met him he would gladly shake hands and greet him warmly, but he would not seek him out. He had as much self-pride as if he were governor himself. It was a beautiful day, and people from the country began arriving early. Every train brought additions to the crowd. The streets were ablaze with flags and bunting and noise with brass bands from all the towns in the county. Joe Sever rode about on horseback, delivering orders like some great field marshal, the busiest and most important man in town. There was a parade out to the grove where the exercises were to be held. Joe Sever rode at the head, of course. Then came a brass band followed by an open carriage with the governor and some local dignitaries. Colonel Dennie recalled many times when he had been in that glittering carriage drawn by Liveryman Jones’ fine black horses. But that was long ago. Today he was standing on the outskirts of the crowd wearing an old

straw hat and a patched alpaca coat. Nobody paid any attention to him. Behind the carriage marched the local fraternal orders, the National Guards and a lot of school children carrying small flags. Arriving at the grounds, one of the bands played “The Star Spangled Banner,” and a medley, a little girl in white read the Declaration of Independence and a glee club sang a song, and was encored several times. The chairs on the grandstand were all occupied by speakers or distinguished guests. Joe Sever, who was always in evidence, got up and made some long winded announcements about the fireworks and music in the evening, and then said he had the pleasure of introducing a young man who had just come in on the train, and who was not down on the program because they didn’t know whether or not he would get in. When Sever began talking, Colonel Dennie moved farther back among the trees, because the Yankee’s voice irritated him. The people cheered enthusiastically when the young man, who had just arrived, arose to speak. “I thank God that I live in a country where I cannot be driven to war at the behest of any king or emperor, but in a country which, when its honor is in question, needs no_ order of monarch to rally its sons to its support!” Surely—surely he knew that voice! Why, it was from a speech Colonel Dennie had once made himself! The old man who had lived too long wiped his specs and began edging up closer and closer, and peering through the crowd. “Why—bless my soul!—is it? —Can it be —” Then when a mighty cheer broke loose he joined in: “Hurrah for you, Dickey boy!” he cried, and threw his old straw hat so high in the air that he never got it back. “I’ll leave it to my dad there,” said the young man, pointing* to Colonel Dennie. “if, should this nation ever be assailed, the old men who were once called ‘rebels,’ and their sons, would not be among the first to fly to arms in its defense!” “Right you are, Dickey boy!” shouted the old “rebel” —“Yaaih—Yaaaaaaihh! Yaaaaih!” Dick Dennie, junior, had been studying law with a firm in the metropolis and had come home unannounced as a surprise to his parents. By this time Colonel Dennie had forgotten all about the gloomy reflections of the morning in the triumph his son was making, and he stood there smiling and clapping his hands, the happiest man on the grounds. He was living now in the glory of his offspring, with never a thought of the indifference manifested toward himself until—- “ Colonel, where on earth have you been? I’ye looked for you everywhere!” Colonel Dennie stared in amazement at the raw-boned Joe Sever, who had come out of the cjrowd and was holding him by the arm. “I have been in town all day,’! replied the colonel simply. “Well, I couldn’t find you. Come up on the platform with me. I want you to introduce the governor to these people. He’s been asking about you ever since he came to town.”—Pennsylvania Grit

Reflected That He Wat Close to Sev-enty-Five.

Surely—Surely He Knew That Voice!