Getting Old Ain't For Sissy's

     A few months back I turned 72 years old. To be honest I never thought I would get this far yet here I am, near sighted, grey haired and pot bellied. I guess I should consider myself fortunate to still be walking around when so many people younger than me go to meet their maker every day due to various illnesses and accidents.
     Looking back on my life I can say there were times I did some pretty dumb things that could have resulted in my demise. As a teenager I jumped off high cliffs into the lake and would swing on a rope attached to a tree on the side of a steep bluff overlooking the lake. I rode a bicycle that I personally worked on only to find out that I am not mechanically inclined - the brakes didn't always work and the front wheel occasionally fell off when I hit a bump.
     I left home at 18 and joined the Navy, as a VIP driver I had a heavy foot. There were no laws about using a seat belt back then so I didn't use one but there were several times, after driving at speeds exceeding 90 mph, a thought would cross my mind "are you crazy" but then I was 18 - 19 years old, I was indestructible. The Navy sent me off to war in Vietnam, not once but twice, again I was fortunate and came home, more than 50,000 of my brothers didn't.
     I continued to drive too fast, over the years I was involved in several auto accidents and received more than my share of speeding tickets. I smoked cigarettes, drank several forms of alcohol,sometimes to excess, and before the kids came along any excuse to party was a good excuse.
     Once the kids came along I slowed down, quit drinking and kept the speed odometer under 80 mph (when the kids were in the car). I suffered the odd cuts and bruises and continued to scratch my head every year when my birthday came around amazed that I made it another year. I worked hard, often long hours, smoking helped keep the stress under control though it didn't do my body any good.
     One day I woke up and found I was a senior citizen, I could no longer keep up with the younger generation physically or mentally. Technology passed me by a long time ago and I don't even think about trying to catch up. I'm so out of shape that getting in a hurry is out of the question, if I had to run the proverbial 50 yards to the outhouse I would need some clean underwear about halfway there. My reflexives have slowed and my memory is sporadic, seems my mouth gets ahead of my brain and whatever I was trying to say  doesn't always come to me until a later time, the doctor calls it "having a senior moment".Various parts of the body take turns letting me know how they feel, sleep eludes me at times, arthritis has a hold on several joints and skin tags are popping up all over my body.
     I have needed glasses for years and now I have what is called a floater in my right eye. I get up slowly in the middle of the night to let my body adjust to the new position and I can't walk barefoot anymore but I did quit smoking a few years ago.
     There is some good news though, I just had a checkup, other than needing to drop a few pounds (OK quite a few), having low vitamin D and borderline cholesterol I'm not in bad shape. When so many people my age are wolfing down handfuls of pills every day I only take three, every thing still works although not as good as they used to.
     I look in the mirror and see and old person yet I look at things from a young persons point of view, I think I can still do things like I always have but then I remember I'm not 25 or 30 or even 40 anymore. I miss the "good ol' days".
     There's a line from a country song that goes "I ain't as good as I once was but I'm as good once as I ever was" but I should add another line "just not as often as I used to".
     One of the really hard parts about getting old is that all of your friends and relatives have gotten old also, some of them are not doing so well and some have already passed away. I don't enjoy seeing people I know suffering from some disease, I don't enjoy saying goodbye to them but because I love them I will do what I can.
     I don't recommend getting old, it beats the alternative but it sure ain't for sissy's.



















   

Five Years

     "The business of life is the acquisition of memories, in the end that is all that is left" 

                                                                                    Mr. Carson, Downton Abbey



     This post contains individual posts that I write on Face Book on the anniversary of the passing of Linda and Wayne. The words are from my heart and I think they are important to future generations so I have created this post as a compilation of the anniversary writings.  

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FIVE YEARS

     Five years ago Kay and I didn't know each other but life forces were in play that would bring us together. Five years ago Kay's husband Wayne passed away, a week later my wife Linda passed away, after decades of marriage we were lost and alone. The first year was devastating, we mourned our losses deeply, we cried ourselves to sleep when sleep was possible, we wandered aimlessly in a fog of despair even though we were surrounded by friends and family.
     As time went on life became easier, with help we learned how to move forward without forgetting, we learned to live again with the memories of a lifetime, we learned how to smile and laugh again as we told our stories of the past. What we did not do was forget even one minute detail of the ones we lost. Everyday we remember Wayne and Linda, some times the memories bring tears, some times smiles, some times the memory is but a fleeting moment like a flash of light but most often they linger for a few minutes as the minds eye allows us to look back on a smiling face or listen to sounds of laughter. Our memories of Wayne and Linda can never be lost, they are permanently etched, deeply, in our minds mingling with the memories that we now create together.
     Kay and I came together during the most devastating, heartbreaking period of our lives, drawn together by grief we fell in love and married. There were those that felt our marriage defiled our memories of Wayne and Linda, that we no longer remembered the life or the love we grieved for. Well, you hurt us, you added to our grief and caused us great pain but then you also strengthened our resolve, together we have learned to move forward while looking back, together we have learned to love again without remorse.
     Linda and Wayne are memories now, memories that can be brought on by various things, an aroma, scenery along the roadside, a song on the radio, a scene from a movie or maybe it did just pop up out of the blue. There have been times we could be having a conversation with someone when our eyes might water, we may start to sniffle or even be close to outright crying, then for no apparent reason we may smile all because something triggered a memory. We are getting better at setting aside our emotions, we no longer burst into tears for no reason, there are times when we need a hug or a whisper of love and these we freely give to each other. The existence of our grief often is subtle as the pain continues to lessen, our happiness overshadows the sorrow but the sorrow will always be there, I think, for the rest of our lives.
     Five years is just the beginning, for the rest of our lives we will remember our late spouses, the memories may bring tears or smiles, either way they will be welcome because they are a part of us that can never be denied. Five years, it seems like yesterday, five years from now it will still feel like yesterday, memories are funny like that.

                                                        In Loving Memory

          Linda Jean Dingman Riggan                            Charles Wayne Bullock

           3 /30 / 1949  -  9 / 12 / 2014                           12 / 21 / 1952  -  9 / 6 / 2014

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TIME

     Six years ago, Kay's husband Wayne passed away after 35 years of marriage, one week later my wife Linda passed away after 47 years of marriage. It was their time, yet we grieved for them. We continued our existence in time alone yet surrounded by family and friends. We didn't know each other then but time eventually brought us together and over time we learned to live with our grief. Time held our memories of a life never to be forgotten while we made memories in our new life together. 

     But to say that "time heals all wounds" is not really a truism. Time works very well on physical wounds although there may be a scar, time hides wounds of the mind and heart. The wounds lay unseen to most people hidden by a facade that cloaks the bearer. Our's is a wound of the heart that time can not heal.

    Time moves us forward in our love for each other but it can't heal the wounds in our hearts or hide the memories of our past. Six years have gone by, next September will be seven years then eight, nine, ten. We have come to learn that time will continue to heal our wounds but time will never allow us to forget Wayne and Linda, not last year, not this year, not next year.
   
   

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EIGHT YEARS

     At this time of the year, I usually write something about the grief I am experiencing from Linda's passing. It's been eight years, I still feel her loss but it seems different somehow. It's hard to explain, I still miss her but I don't mourn her like in the past, does this mean that I have excepted her loss and moved on?

     Kay and I often think and speak of Wayne and Linda, it's hard not to with so much that triggers a memory but those memories no longer produce tears or feelings of sadness they now bring forth smiles and laughter. This must be another stage in the grieving process but it leaves me a little confused and wondering what or how I will be feeling in the years to come. 

     Whatever the next step in the process is, I know that we will never forget them and the life we had with them.  

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     About this time every year, I write something about my feelings from losing Linda. These picture my son has posted about Linda are a fitting tribute to her life so I am going to piggyback my thoughts about her.

     After a lifetime of loving and living with someone, you find that you can never forget them or stop loving them though they are no longer with you. Time becomes a scar covering the wound death has left on your heart.

     After nine years, I have moved on, Kay and I have made a good life together and we love each other, we both would rather be spending this time with the person we grieve for but life doesn't always give you what you want. Every day we remember them in different ways, we smile from our thoughts and hold back tears from our sadness then we move forward but we never forget.

     These pictures seem like yesterday, indeed they are yesterday, they are embedded in my memory forever. All that Linda and Wayne were is now a memory that occupies a special place in our hearts. Grief is the one thing time can never erode just as memories can never be forgotten. A wound can be healed but there will always be a scare in it's place to remind us of another time.

               

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          The ANNIVERSARY

     September has arrived once again, while there are many reasons to be happy about it's arrival there is one thing that cast a shadow over the month. Ten years ago, Kay's husband Wayne passed away on the sixth, my wife Linda passed away on the fourteenth, it was a dark time for the both of us. Like a lot of things in life, there is no guidebook, nothing to tell you what to expect, what to do or how to act, even talking with others who have gone through the grieving process doesn't help much because everyone grieves differently. 

     So, here we are ten years after their passing and we are still grieving for them, we no longer cry ourselves to sleep or walk around looking like we are lost but we do still grieve for them. The emotions have changed, the events leading to their deaths are not as vivid but the memories of their life are as clear as yesterday. We don't need a picture of them because their likeness is embossed into our memory cells and often enters our thoughts, we speak of the good times and smile, sometimes we laugh. 

     I guess this is another phase of the grieving process, maybe the final phase as I can't think of how more years will change my feelings, only those who started their journey before us would know and I suspect they would say grief is never ending. So, here we are celebrating another anniversary, no cake with candles or party favors just each other to hold and a lifetime of memories to make us smile, somehow I think that's enough.

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     When someone you love passed away you're told you need to move on, it's what they would want you to do, they wouldn't want you to spend the days and years mourning for them. So you eventually do move on, you start to live a new life without them, maybe you fall in love with someone else but do you forget the softness of their hair, the sweetness of their kiss or the smile on their face - NO.

     It's been eleven years now, the memories ebb and flow but never fade, hopefully they never will. I have moved on, I have a new life with Kay who walks beside me on the same path, together we are making memories, together we remember the life we once lived with someone we loved just as fiercely as we love each other. We move on but we never forget.

To Believe Or Not To Believe

     "Believe nothing you hear, only half of what you see and everything you feel". According to Encyclopedia .com this quotation is from the mid 19th century and warns against over-reliance on one's own experience.
     I have heard some form of this quote all of my life and sometimes the true meaning came home to roost the hard way. Mostly it was a matter of  "old timers" trying to pull the wool over my eyes while playing a joke or just flat out spinning a yarn laced with truth and vivid embellishments. Either way it was all done with no intended harm and everyone usually got a good laugh out of it. Once you had the wool pulled over your eyes often enough you got to where you could distinguish truth from fiction and though you didn't believe all that you heard you could rely on the honesty of your eyes and feelings. This held true for centuries until the rise of the "internet", since then all hell has broken loose.
     The internet has opened up all kinds of avenues for deceit, deception and out right lying. Even if you are smart enough to determine fact from fiction there are thousands, if not millions, of people who will believe anything they see in print or hear with there own ears. These people think the internet is gospel and everything therein has come down from the mountain engraved in stone. Unfortunately there are people who for whatever reason seem to get a thrill out of spreading rumors, lies and innuendos. They do this for monetary gain, for political power, they do it to mislead, to sway opinion and to slander and yes they do it for the thrill.
     The other day I ran across an internet posting claiming some political figure made a statement that was not only offensive but showed their ignorance on the subject. Because this person has recently been a sore on the backside of the political arena, the posting sounded very much like something they would say and I bought into it hook, line and sinker.  Irritated, I made a comment on the posting only to have someone point out to me the posting was a fake. Why someone would want to mislead the public and malign a political figure is beyond me especially since this political figure seems to be doing enough of that all by themselves. Who created this posting may never be known because the internet seems to welcome anonymity.
     With the internet truth and fiction are one and the same. Pictures can be revised "photo shopped" so skillfully one would believe unicorns actually exist, even recorded statements can sound authentic to the ear. The days of old timers jokingly trying to pull your leg or make a story seem more interesting are long gone, you can't trust that your eyes to see what you think you see or your ears to always hear the truth. I know that from now on I will probably adhere to the old saying "If it sounds (or looks) too good to be true, it probably isn't".
     Abraham Lincoln is quoted to say "you can fool all of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time but you can not fool all of the people all of the time". In his day he was right, the internet has changed all that, it has changed the world we live in for the good and unfortunately for the worse.
































   

The Jetties

     1966 was a good year, I was dating the most beautiful girl in the world, I was living ( at the invitation of the U.S. Navy ) at the beach in Cocoa Beach, Florida, what more could a guy want ?
     Linda and I were head over heels in love and we took every opportunity to be together. My duties with the Navy didn't have normal hours and Linda was still in high school plus she held down a part time job  to boot. Some how we managed to find time for dates but the hour of the day may have varied though that didn't matter to us. The next hurtle was where to go on our dates.
     We had bought a 1958 Chevy Impala convertible for $350, it was rusty, had about five different colors of paint, three of the four side windows were cracked, the rear plastic window was yellowed but it did have a hot engine. Yea, it was a mess and got a lot of laughs but it was ours.
     As for the places to go on a date they were plentiful.
     There was a small lake, not far from Linda's home, by the name of  Clear Lake. A local civic club of which her father was a member, cleaned up the lake several years earlier. They removed all of the debris and captured all of the alligators and with county funds built a concession stand and picnic tables, the county staffed and managed it. The water was very clear and it was a great place to swim.
     Then there was a drive-in theater, for about fifty cents each we could see a double feature and make out during the intermission or just make out, not all of the movies were interesting. There were good things about the drive-in and not so good, the good was you could take a break anytime to go to the restroom or grab a burger. The bad thing was the mosquitoes, they were horrendous, if you rolled up the windows the heat and humidity was unbearable and the mosquitoes always found a way to get in. The drive-in sold a little repellent device that you lit with a lighter and set on the dash, it smoldered and put out some sort of repellent but here again you had to roll up the windows but then once you got heavy into making out a few hundred mosquitoes were a minor irritation compared to the rivers of sweat we worked up.
     Cocoa Beach was a great place. Back in the 60's the town seemed to never shut down, it was, after all, the height of the Apollo space program. The beach was almost as good as Daytona Beach, it was not as wide but you could drive on it for a couple of miles. Sand, sun and surf, a Florida staple.
     Then there were the "parking areas". Any place you could park your car and make out without being disturbed was a parking area and there were lots of them in failed subdivisions or turn outs along the river road or the beach.
     I need to stop here and layout a little background. I had a good relationship with Linda's Mom, her Dad was a different story but Mom, as I called her, liked me. Sometimes I would be at Linda's house waiting for her to get off work, when she called I would go get her  and save Mom the trouble. As I walked out the door I would jokingly tell Mom "don't wait up we are going to South Carolina to get married", she would smile and say ha ha. Now that I have laid out the above background I will tell you about one of our favorite "parking " places - "The Jetties".
     Port Canaveral was a dividing line between Cape Kennedy which was restricted and the civilian city of Cape Canaveral, it also was a canal connecting the Atlantic Ocean to the inter-coastal waterway and or Banana River. The south side of the port held a small fleet of trawlers and a couple of tug boats. The north side was taken up by the U.S.Navy (this is where I worked ). They had a ship called the USS Observation Island, it monitored all Polaris missile launches from the Polaris submarines that came in for testing. The civilian side also had "The Jetties"they were piles of big rocks on both sides of the channel  that stretched out into the ocean and served as a breaker for the channel and provided for some great fishing.
     The Jetties as we called them were a prime "parking area", they were wild with over grown palmetto bushes, palm trees and sand dunes. the chances of getting stuck in the sugar sand were very good but not a deterrent. Any given Friday and Saturday night would find a steady stream of bouncing headlights as cars carefully navigated the ruts we called a road into the jungle of the Jetties. The great thing about the Jetties was the offshore breezes  that kept the mosquitoes at bay and quickly dried perspiration. When talking about taking your best girl to the Jetties we sometimes said we were going to watch the "submarine races", the fact there were nuclear submarines at the port had nothing to do with races.
     One Friday night I was at Linda's house, she was working till 11:00 pm. I got up to leave and as I walked out the door I told mom "see you tomorrow  Mom", she laughed. I picked Linda up and we decided to go to the Jetties. To make a long story short, things got a little hot and heavy, the next thing we knew it was around four in the morning before we headed home. The sun was coming up when we pulled into the drive, Mom was waiting up when we walked in and in no mood to talk. After that we were careful about when we got home and I didn't joke around with Mom too often. The irony is that with all of the problems she had with the preparations for our wedding, she told us if she had it to do over she would have paid us to go to South Carolina.
     As with many things from my past they exist only in my memories now. The drive-in is long gone, I am sure Clear Lake is still there but somehow it has probably changed. The space program is not as exciting as back in the sixties. Port Canaveral has expanded, a Disney cruise ship sails from there and there is a good sport fishing business and several swanky restaurants. The Jetties, well now  they are a county park known as "Jetty Park", there are paved roads, with paved parking, picnic tables and flowering bushes. Every weekend families gather for a day at the beach, fish on the jetties and hope to see a big ship sail down the channel.
     Some people don't handle change too well, I have to admit I am one of those people but as I have gotten older I realize change is a fact of life.  My "Jetties" are long gone except in my memories, there they are as clear as ever.




























   










































   

Tears Of Love

     When Linda and I got engaged we eagerly made plans for our future starting with the wedding. Linda like most girls dreamed of walking down the isle and holding my hand as we said our vows so a church wedding it was going to be. Plans for our June wedding started in December.
     I don't know who was more excited about this wedding, the bride or the bride's mother. Together they thought of every detail from the invitations to the punch bowl. It seemed that for months the wedding was all Linda and her mom could talk about. My job was to decide who of my relations, friends and acquaintances I was sending an invitation to, get their addresses and once the invitation was written ( Linda did that part ) I scrawled my signature on them.
     My time at my duty station was growing short and I knew that a transfer was upcoming  but had no idea when. This was one thought we tended to ignore, we were happy and in love, nothing could put a damper on our big day or so we thought.
     Just a couple of weeks before the wedding I got my orders. They couldn't have come at a worse time and they couldn't have been more disconcerting. The orders said I was going to Assault Craft Div, 12, the name alone was something to be concerned about. The word "Assault" in any context should be alarming but when the military uses it they usually mean some sort of armed confrontation. Add to that the fact that the unit was listed as secret and no one could tell me anything about the outfit, what was it or where it was. This was 1967, the war in Vietnam was escalating, more and more men and materials were shipping out every day. Every day the list of military personnel wounded or killed in the line of duty grew longer.
     I went to Linda and told her I had orders, I told her everything I knew about the outfit, which was nothing, and told her what I thought I was getting in to. Tours of duty in Vietnam usually went on for 12 months, this was no way to start out a marriage, add to that, I may be in combat with the possibility of getting wounded or worse. Making Linda a widow was on my mind and it didn't sit well. I thought we should postpone the wedding, the possibility of coming home an invalid or in a coffin was something I didn't want to put Linda through.
     Linda took all of this hard, we were in love and she wanted nothing more than to be my wife. She cried so hard rivulets of tears ran down her cheeks, her body trembled with heart wrenching sobs. She pleaded with me. In the end I hugged her and I kissed away the tears, we kept our date at the church. Four months later she kissed me goodbye.
     During her final months Linda refused to be less than upbeat for her friends and family but there were times when I helped her to stand I would hold her tight against me while she cried from the pain and exhaustion. The morning after she passed it was my tears, my heart wrenching sobs that shook my body, she couldn't hold me and kiss away my tears but my love for her got me through.
   
   

Have You Ever

     Have you ever run around in the cool summer evening catching fireflies with your bare hands, have you ever walked in a field of grass to catch grass hoppers to use as fish bait ?
     As a young boy these were but a few activities that occupied my time. We didn't have air conditioning back then, the summers were hot and sticky even in the cool of the evening. We kids would spend most of our waking hours outdoors - scantily clad, barefoot and dripping with rivulets of sweat covering our bodies. We ran around yelling and screaming from dawn til way past dark, our parents impatiently waited for us to wind down so we could bathe and go to bed.
     We played children's games like Cowboys and Indians, Hide and Go Seek, Annie Over, King of the Hill and many more, they were games that got us outside and kept us active. We were skinny, knock kneed, had big ears, dirty faces, unkempt hair and grins from ear to ear. Our Moms did all they could to keep our bellies full but we were so active the calories we consumed were quickly burned away, baby fat was not a term often used in our neighborhood.
     During the day we rode bikes, climbed trees and slid down grass covered hills on pieces of cardboard. In quieter moments we lay on our backs in grass and clover covered lawns looking up at the clouds picking out shapes of animals and faces of people. We would pick the white long stemmed flower of the clover, tie them together to make wreaths, bracelets, chains, belts and necklaces. We captured June Bugs and tied thread to a leg and allowed them to fly about as if on a leash.
     We sat at windows watching a summer storm pelt the earth with large droplets of rain, patiently we waited for the storm to pass so we could go back outside and walk barefoot through warm puddles of fresh rain water. After a summer storm the rain drops took time to fall through the leaves and wash the dust away leaving an aroma of freshness to fill young lungs at play.
     When the nighttime came we punched holes in jar lids to allow air to enter mason jars that held the fireflies ( lightning bugs ) that we caught. We played Hide and Go Seek loudly yelling "you're it" when we tagged someone as we ran around in the dark. We raised our heads and looked into the night sky searching for the "Little Dipper" or the "North Star" among the millions of stars visible. We watched distant flashes of lightning in far away storm clouds.
     Have you ever spent time on a farm ? I got to spend my summers with my Grandpa and Granny Riggan on their farm. Grandpa was a farmer of the old school, he had no combustible engine powered machines, he used mules to pull his plows, his bare hands to milk his cows and the muscles  of  his lean body to toss around bales of hay to feed his animals.
     The farm was old, it had been a long time since the house had seen a coat of paint, the tin roof was rusty. The foundation was large rocks set at the corners allowing cool air to flow beneath the house. The steps were large thick stones worn smooth over the years by countless bare feet and shoes. I guess the place wasn't much to look at but to a young boy it was a whole new world filled with discovery and adventure.
     Walking barefoot through a farm yard was not like walking through clover, if you were not careful you might step in something squishy only to look down and see oozing chicken poop between your toes. The "peeping" sounds of newborn chickens would catch your attention as they foraged for bits of food or scampered for the protection of the mother hens wings.
     Have you ever walked barefoot behind a team of mules as they plowed furrows of fresh earth or maybe you rode them bareback listening to your Grandfather guide them along with "gee's and haw's" ? Have you ever played in the hayloft of a barn building forts and tunnels from bales of hay or climbed high in an apple tree to pick apples and eat them while white clouds floated overhead in a blue sky ? Have you ever gone down on your knees and lapped cool clean water from a stream as it meandered through shadowy woods or chased grasshoppers in a field of tall hay ? Have you ever skipped stones across the calm waters of a pond or lake ?
     No, I don't suppose you have done any of these things because they were a way of life from a time of long ago, a time of my youth, a time when life was a little more relaxed and enjoyable.
     I wish you could have been there when life was carefree when all kids had to worry about was how much longer they could stay outside and play before it was bedtime.
     Some say technology is robbing the kids today of their youth, I think this may be true. But then again it could be that video games, computers and cellphones are the new "Cowboys and Indians" or "fireflies". At least you can go barefoot while playing a video game and you won't get dirt on your face after spending all day on a computer but it sounds like a lonely way to grow up, how sad.
 

The Great Greats

     Every time my sister Vickie comes for a visit she brings with her missing parts of our family history, this trip was no different. Once in a while Vickie will find some new bit of family history, this time we now have a face to put with the name of our Great, Great Grandfather and his three brothers.
     The American branch of the Riggan family tree has been traced  back about thirteen generations to  the 1500's when they arrived in the Virginia Tidewaters. After a while they migrated down in to Warren County, North Carolina then at a later date they moved westward into Wilson County, Tennessee. Surely there are family relations still living in Wilson County, their name may have changed due to marriage but they are family.
      I remember that there was a small room in Grandpa's house, it held some old pieces of furniture and there were a couple of framed pictures of what I considered "old people", I was a young boy then and not interested in old pictures. It was a long time ago but I probably had my first glimpse in to the past. The picture at the top of the page was taken sometime back in the 1800's. That's Daniel Newton "Newt" Riggan in the top left, top right is James Madison "Matt" Riggan, bottom right is William Henry Riggan and the bottom left picture is Benjamin Calvin Riggan - my Great, Great Grandfather. They were a scruffy looking bunch with their beards and in need of a haircut but that was the fashion of the day. Scruffy or not these brothers are my Great, Great Uncles and Grandfather, it is sort of nice to put a face to a name.
      The mid 1800's were troubling times for the nation. Southern states, Tennessee for one, didn't like the northern states telling them how to live and it wasn't long before there was a war between the states. The Riggan's and Wade's have fought in almost every war this country has been involved in, the men in the picture were no different, at least two of them enlisted in the Confederate army. James Madison Riggan signed up but that's about all we know. Then there was Daniel, he enlisted in the Confederate Army in 1861 as a Private in Company K of the 7th Regiment of the Tennessee Infantry. He was described as being dark complected, 5'10" with hazel eyes and black hair. He fought and was wounded at the battle of Manassas on August 27, 1862. He recuperated in the Sudley hospital and after a time was assigned as baggage guard in Staunton, Virginia. On January 23, 1865 Daniel was listed as a "Deserter" but then according to  a document  Vickie found, Daniel signed an "oath of allegiance" and became a member of the Union Army on January 25, 1865. The war ended in April 1865 and Daniel went home to Tennessee. William Henry Riggan and Benjamin Calvin Riggan may have fought in the war but so far no record has been found to verify that.
     The family lived in the Leeville area of Wilson County, Tennessee, I understand there are a lot of family buried in the Leeville cemetery. Not much is known about William Henry Riggan or about James Madison Riggan although we wonder why the picture calls him "Matt", nickname maybe ?
     Benjamin Calvin Riggan was born on October 20, 1833. In 1848 about the time he turned 15 his father Samuel Harper Riggan passed away. There were seven children, four boys, three girls and after the death of their father all of the kids were spread around to other family members. Great Great Grandpa Ben named one of his sons Sam, he was my Great Grandfather, who named one of his sons Howard Edgar who was my Grandfather.
     There is more to this story but it gets confusing trying to keep straight who was married to who and who were the in - laws. I'm not someone who likes to rummage around in old papers and files or spend hours in libraries, little sister Vickie though seems to live for the hunt and I get to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Sis likes to put the leaves on the branches of the family tree and I have no doubt she could create a very dense family tree. I on the other hand, think that while it is interesting to see a tree full of names branching out in all directions I am alright if a little sun shine filters through.