The Courier-Journal from Louisville, Kentucky • 15

B7 "2 Descendants seek a memorial for Civil War tragedy THE COURIER-JOURNAL METRO MONDAY, APRIL 16, 2001 Hundreds died when steamboat boilers exploded Jt fWlllli IllUg'? iv V-'-V "Tml'' graves," Newhouse said of the hundreds whose fate remains unknown. "And we want to keep those memories alive." As the Civil War ended in the spring of 1865, Vicksburg became a staging area for prisoners of war returning to their Northern homes. Union soldiers held at camps like Ander-sonville in Georgia and Cahaba in Alabama were brought to Vicksburg, where they awaited passage north on the Mississippi River. Lamar Roberts with the Gray and Blue Naval Museum keeps his model of the Sultana locked in a glass case away from tempted hands of young visitors. Above the case is a painting of the riverboat engulfed in flames.

"People always talk about what a tragedy the Titanic was, but people should remember what happened to the Sultana," Roberts said. A 260-foot side-wheeler built at Cincinnati in 1863 for the lower Mississippi cotton trade, the Sultana departed New Orleans on April 21, 1865. It made its way up the river to Vicksburg, where a leak was discovered in one of the boilers. A patch was used despite objections of a local boilermaker. "When I think of these guys who fought in these battles, survived the camps and sur-vived the Sultana, I wonder if they were really the lucky ones," Newhouse said.

"They- still had to live with those "Zl memories." Some who survived formed an association called the Sul-." tana Survivors' Society, which held annual meetings for many years. Their main goal, which was never realized, was recog- nition from the federal govern- ment. The group continued to meet and campaign for a memorial to those who died until the last survivor died in the 1930s. Despite their efforts, the only markers for the Sultana are in 2 Memphis and Knoxville, but there is no federal historic site. Today, Newhouse and other descendants of the men on the Sultana are continuing the ef-' forts of the survivors' society.

The Association of Sultana Descendants and Friends is push-' ing for a memorial in down- town Vicksburg. "We would like to have that spot marked where the men left on the boat," Newhouse said. Distributed by The Associated Press man and $10 for officers to the ships to provide passage. The ship's captain, J. Cass Mason, was also a part-owner of the steamer, ana more passegers translated into more profit.

About seven miles upriver from Memphis, and three days after leaving Vicksburg, the Sultana passed a cluster of islands known as the "Hen and Chickens" around 1 a.m. There, the hasty repairs on the boiler gave out, and the midsection of the ship exploded in a ball of fire seen as far away as Memphis. Many victims were killed by the explosion. Those who were not caught in the blast had to choose between remaining on the burning vessel or facing the rapid waters of the Mississippi River, according to survivors' accounts. Late in April 1865, the Mississippi stood at flood stage.

War had ruined many levees and dikes, and the river overflowed the banks for miles in each direction. One survivor wrote later, "The men who were afraid to take to the water could be seen clinging to the sides of the bow of the boat until they were singed off like flies. Shrieks and cries for mercy were all that could be heard; and that awful morning reminded me of the stories of doomsday of my childhood." The twin smokestacks of the Sultana gave way as the ship burned and came crashing down, pinning men underneath, trapped in the blaze. According to another survivor's account, "When I got about 300 yards away from the boat clinging to a heavy plank, the whole heavens seemed to be lighted up by the conflagration. Hundreds of my comrades were fastened down by the timbers of the decks and had to burn while the water seemed to be one solid mass of human beings struggling with the waves." Newhouse's ancestor, Pvt.

Adam Schneider of the 183rd Ohio Infantry, was among the hundreds never found after the Sultana sank. The boat's captain, Mason, was last seen on the deck of the ship throwing doors, shutters and other pieces of wood into water for survivors. He is believed to have gone down with the boat. It is estimated that 500 to 600 men were taken to the Memphis hospitals. About 200 of them died soon after, from burns or exposure.

nni i ii M.J By MARK ARMSTRONG The Vicksburg Post VICKSBURG, Miss. Descendants of Union soldiers killed in the worst maritime disaster in American history are asking city leaders in Vicksburg to help erect a marker to those who died on what has been called the "Titanic of the Mississippi." Civil War historian Pam New-house knows all about the ill-fated journey of the steamship Sultana that left the wharf at Vicksburg on April 24, 1865. Her great-great-grandfather was one of the estimated 1,700 passengers including many soldiers from Kentucky and Indiana who died three days later when three of the ship's four boilers exploded as Sultana steamed north to Cairo, 111. By contrast, about 1,500 died when the Titanic sank 47 years later in the North Atlantic. "Our memories are their only COURTESY OF OLD COURTHOUSE MUSEUM COUECTION An estimated 1,700 people, many of them Union soldiers, died after an explosion In 1865 on the steamboat Sultana.

This photo was taken just days before the disaster. "They bullied him into it when they knew the entire side of the boiler should have been replaced," Roberts said. Union soldiers eager to return to their homes were soon being loaded onto the steamer. Exact numbers were not kept, but it is estimated that some 2,300 people were packed aboard the steamer when it left Vicksburg. The Sultana's legal limit was 376.

Although other vessels were available at Vicksburg to take on passengers, trainload after trainload was placed on the Sultana. Many speculate one reason the ship was overloaded is money. The U.S. government was paying $5 for each enlisted Marine veteran reconnects with former students in Vietnam J- Fighting fires unites Kentucky family Relatives make up nearly a fifth of city's department MMi'iy, a 4 1 us ui "i I I I7 By DAVID HORN The Herald-Times BLOOMINGTON, Ind. Some Vietnam-" veterans who revisit Southeast Asia hope to erase lingering nightmares of the 11-year con-, flict that claimed more than 58,000 U.S.

lives and hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese. Former Marine Cpl. Chuck Guemple left jm for Ho Chi Minh City in March with a differ- ent goal. He hoped to check up on former students. Guemple served in Vietnam in 1969 1970 and says he was scared most of the time.

"Our mission was to guard the U.S. airstrip at Da Nang, near the informal dividing line between North and South i ff7l.rf..if I mi ff- i Vietnam, he said. We pa-trolled against infiltrators and snipers and were some- times under attack." Guemple said he has noH unresolved issues about war. "Most soldiers who went over there thought they were doing the right thing. I against the war after my discharge, but I had a right to, since I'd fought in it." Besides fighting, his Ma-j rine unit also organizedlT food programs for local citizens and provided free medical care in small towns.

By DAVID BLACKBURN Messenger-Inquirer BEAVER DAM, Ky. If the members of the Beaver Dam Volunteer Fire Department seem like one big family, that's because many of them are. 1 Joining 30-year veteran Mike Nance on the department's lime-green trucks are his son Jeremy Nance and Jeremy's wife, Lisa; and Mike's daughter, Sarah Henderson, and her husband, Billy Henderson Jr. Two cousins Phillip Reynolds and Robbie Hurt also are active members. When a third relative, cousin Adam Wright, was active, the family made up more than one-fifth of the 37-member department.

"To say the least, we're close-knit," Mike said. Most of the family members' friends also are firefighters, said Billy, 23. "Half of us started when we were 16," said Sarah, 20, referring to the department's Junior Firefighter Program. The program allows would-be firefighters ages 16 to 18 to get training and respond to fires for observation. Mike Nance, 48, said he and his wife had no qualms with Jeremy and Sarah following him into such a dangerous business.

"But like all parents, we're still ASSOCIATED PRESS From left, Billy Henderson his wife, Sarah Henderson; her father, Mike Nance; Lisa Nance; and her husband, Jeremy Nance recently stood against the "War Wagon," one of the Beaver Dam Fire Department's fire trucks. Chuck Guemple spent free time teaching English. house fire when he saw Sarah pushed off the front porch when the door blew open, knocking down Billy in the process. "My first reaction was to run to my kias," Mike said. In September 1999 Sarah and Billy carried two girls, ages 7 aid 4, from a burning mobile home.

Sarah helped revive the 7-year-old, whom she occasionally sees around town. The 4-year-old Billy carried out was not so lucky; although her heart began beating again, she was unable to breathe on her own and was taken off life support a month later. "Worst one I've beet to," Billy said quietly. A year earlier, Sarah responded to a mobile home fire that killed an elderly couple, whom she could hear screaming. She was unable to get them out in time.

The incident made her consider leaving firefighting. "For a while it did," she said. "But I like doing it." Distributed by The Associated Press said Jeremy, who drew the loudest laughter when retelling the story of Lisa's first "fire run with the department. Lisa, 21, had been with the department less than two weeks last year when the stove in her new home caught fire. Jeremy said Lisa called 911 to report the fire, hung up the phone, opened the door and yelled, 'They're not here yet!" But the family also shares the somber side of the business.

Last April, Mike was tied up operating two pumper trucks at a looking over their shoulders," he said. Jeremy, 22, and Sarah, who joined in 1997, became heavily involved. They had senior portraits made of themselves surrounded by their firefighting coats, helmets and other equipment. When Jeremy joined in 1996, he would respond to alarms on his bicycle, Mike said. As at a family reunion, such good-natured anecdotes and jibes came forth repeatedly during a recent family gathering "We all cut up and get along," Group recognizes Indiana city's history, charm 7 Madison one of 12 'distinctive' U.S.

destinations in 2001 if MADISON (T, I Charlestowngr i R4 txLSor LWfl ,.1111 IF YOU GO The Madison Area Convention Visitors Bureau is at 301 E. Main St. The phone number is (812) 265-2956 or (800) 559-2956. The Internet address is www.visitmadison.org. Links to lodging and nearby attractions are available from that site.

Wl 1 near Da Nang. That how he discovered the primitive village of Hoa, Vanh beside the Cam Le River, and its one-' room high school. "We guarded the bridge over the Cam Le '-I as an early warning system for our airstrip four miles away," he said, "but we usually got one day a week off." Guemple spent his free time teaching Eng-lish to 150 eager students at Hoa Vanh High. "They all wanted to learn, and when I'd show 3r up unannounced, the principal would re- schedule other classes so I could teach as long as possible," he said. He taught several days a month for seven Xo months.

One of his best students was a young woman the Marines called Ann. Her family ran a village store where she sold soda pop to passing soldiers. Just before leaving Vietnam in 1970, Guemple gave her two metal Gl-issue IT, table forks as a reward for studying hard. Fearsome combat memories nave faded, but Guemple never forgot his English stu- dents. Last month he returned to find out what became of them.

Hoa Vanh has grown from a tiny village into a suburb of Da Nang. The -bridge he guarded is gone, and when he3 stood by the Cam Le River, he saw no famil- -iar landmarks. Guemple slipped into a nearby cafe to ex- plain his quest. An elderly villager recalled the American who once taught English and dispatched several youngsters to round up former students. Minutes later a motor scooter stopped out-side the cafe, carrying Ann.

"I knew her instantly," Guemple said, "but it took her awhile to see past my older face -and beard." Finally her eyes lit up with recognition. "Wow, you were my English teacher!" exclaimed. Ann invited Guemple home for lunch, where two more of his former stu-dents, Ann's brother and uncle, were visiting. "Her relatives had emigrated to the United States and live in Los Angeles," he said, "so they spoke excellent English. It was an emo-tional visit." Then Ann disappeared into another room, returning moments later with the two metal forks Guemple had given her decades earlier.

Before leaving Vietnam on April 2, Guem- pie located six of his former students. He felt welcome in the country where he once fought and calls the trip a success. "The Vietnamese are a very courteous people," he said. "When they learned I was from America, they always smiled. About 65 per- cent of the population are too young to re- member the war, and put it behind them.

The government presence was very minor, and I never felt I was being watched. I only had one bad dream during the whole visit." Since coming home, the former Marine keeps in touch with Vietnamese friends by e-mail. He's been invited back to Hoa Vanh, and until he returns, Ann will keep her two metal forks safely tucked away. i Distributed by The Associated Press 1 Jj" 1 Louisville By RANDY McNUTT The Cincinnati Enquirer MADISON, Ind. The National Trust for Historic Preservation is impressed with Madison's old ways.

The town is one of 12 communities on the group's list of "Distinctive Destinations of America for 2001," released Friday. "Madison is a community that offers the very best of what America is all about," said Gary Kozel, spokesman for the National Trust in Washington, D.C. It's a community with character." Madison, with a population of about 13,000, is on the Ohio River in Jefferson County, about an hour east of Louisville. Many homes were built before the Civil War in the Georgian, Federal. Regency, Gothic and Ita- l- tfca- COURIER-JOURNAL PHOTOS Downtown Madison, history was captured in this 1954 photo.

The city's downtown is en the National Register of Historic Places. BY STEVE DUHBIN. THE C-J thused. Our phone has been ringing all day. It was a surprise.

We didn't apply for the honor," said Linda Lytle, director of the Madison Area Convention and Visitors Bureau. "It's always nice when other people recognize you. It's a small community that is a great place to live. When everybody else was tearing down their historic buildings, we were poor and couldn't afford it. Now, the town is doing well.

We have the 1,300 structures on the National Register and three National Landmarks." All 12 destination cities and towns "are managing their growth responsibly and maintain vibrant downtowns," said Richard Moe, president of the National Trust. "They offer a respite from the demands of today's frantic, wired world." lianate styles. Several have been turned into museums. Art worked. Named for James Madison, who was president when the city was settled in 1809, the city has a riverfront park, gift shops, antiques stores, restaurants, bed and breakfasts, garden tours and craft markets.

Near Hanover College and Clifty Falls State Park, it is also the home of the Lanier Home, a Greek Revival mansion built by a man whose loans to the state enabled it to equip Union troops during the Civil War. It is a National Historic Landmark. The National Trust named 12 Distinctive Destinations for the first time last year to help people choose a new place to live or to travel to on vacation. Among the 12 are Beaufort, S.C.; Calisto, Red Lodge, and Eureka Springs, Ark. "I think everybody is really en- All of downtown Madison is list Ill i1 ed on the National Register of Historic Places.

The Jeremiah Sullivan House is TO0 few the only known restored Federal serving kitchen in the nation. The town also features the octagonal 1 5 ft Madison Railroad Station, built in the 1840s, and the Dr. William Hutchings Office, a 19th-century doctor's office that shows how a frontier physician lived and The old Federal Era Sullivan home was built in 1816 by Jeremiah Sullivan, who later became an Indiana Supreme Court judge..