A Soldier Comes Home
by Mrs. Johnson, granddaughter to Dr. Alexander Means
My father, Frank Means, was only fifteen when the War Between the States broke out. He was going to run away and enlist. Somebody told my grandfather, who, as everyone says, was a very stern man, and he sent for my father and told him, “If a boy of mine ever ran away for any cause, he could never come home.” He told my father if they were still fighting the second year, he could go. And, of course they were. So my father went off to war when he was 16 years-old and fought for three years.
When the war was over, my grandfather met every train down at the Covington Station, trying to find his son who he knew had been wounded. He would lean on his gold-headed cane and he would tip his silk hat as he looked at each boy who came back, asking, “Have you seen my son? … Have you seen my boy?” But no one had.
Then one day, he came up to one of the most ragged and dirty of the lot, wrapped in bandages. My grandfather took off his hat and leaned over saying, “Young man, have you seen my boy, Frank Means?”
The boy looked up at him and said, “Father, don’t you know me?”
Grandfather flung his silk hat across the railroad track and his gold-headed cane went in another direction and he took up his wounded boy in his arms, hugging him to him.
When the war was over, my grandfather met every train down at the Covington Station, trying to find his son who he knew had been wounded. He would lean on his gold-headed cane and he would tip his silk hat as he looked at each boy who came back, asking, “Have you seen my son? … Have you seen my boy?” But no one had.
Then one day, he came up to one of the most ragged and dirty of the lot, wrapped in bandages. My grandfather took off his hat and leaned over saying, “Young man, have you seen my boy, Frank Means?”
The boy looked up at him and said, “Father, don’t you know me?”
Grandfather flung his silk hat across the railroad track and his gold-headed cane went in another direction and he took up his wounded boy in his arms, hugging him to him.
