Lenoir Rhyne College - Hacawa Yearbook (Hickory, NC)

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CLASS OFFICERS

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Cheoe Aderholdt, A. B. HENRY RIVER, N. C. Thou art a ministerial angel. To know Betty is to love her. Her sweet face, trusting eyes, and cheer- ful disposition win f her many val- uahle friends. She brings happiness and sunshine to all she meets. She is always an attentive listener, and a ready sympathizer with one in trou- ble. If ever she has unpleasant bur- dens, you do not know it. She is a true and loyal friend, and her friend- ship is one that is worth having. Betty has been with us four years. Her work has been very commend- able. She has helped to put the Philalethean Society on its present basis. As to her vocation, she not fully decided, but at present she intends to continue some work here at the College. We feel sure that she will continue to be the same minis- tering an el to all. Victor V. Ahertioi.dt, A. I!. CRorsK, x. c. r plans with his head . approves re his heart, and executes with his hand. Victor has been one of our strong est men. I lis personality at once re veals the manhood back of it. lie has a deep mind, a broad vision of life, and a keen and penetrative in- sight. .Some may find il hard to understand him, but when rightly understood he is liked and admired by all. I le came to us in the Fall of 101 i . lb- is an earnesl mem- ber of the Chrestonian Literary .Society, a persuasive speaker, and renders unbiased judgment on all subjects. I le is a man by what lie is, and not by what he may seem. Me las taken pari in all religious organ i ations and athletics, together with his other work-. Me is a .ureal ad- mirer of the young ladies, hut will not allow himself to be drawn astray by any frivolous sentiment. We predicl for him itn bounded success. ( hrestonian Anniversary I (ebater toi i : Editor-in- Chief of Lenoirian 1914! Business Manager MM A V. 1914-15.

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□ I -3 W — in had thrown myself on the ground from sheer exhaustion, and was talking to Captain Morris, who was in the same attitude. I turned my face from him to speak to my men, when 1 felt an excruciating pain in my leg. I said to him, in my natural voice, ' Captain Morris, my leg is broken by a musket-ball. ' Very soon after I felt another blow upon the same leg, and I said to him, again in the same tone, ' I am wounded again in the same leg. ' After finishing the conversa- tion — commenced before I received the second wound, which shattered both bones of my leg — he was summoned away, and I dragged myself about ten steps or more to a place a little more elevated than the fence at which we had been fighting, thinking there would be a better chance of my being found. While there, I had sand thrown over my face various times by musket-balls which struck the ground near my head, while the shells from the enemy ' s battery which was enfilading our line passed in fearful proximity to my body- I felt a wonderful degree of calmness and resignation to my fate in this alarming sit- uation. I thought that if the wounds I had already received did not prove fatal, it was very probable that 1 would be struck again, and killed; but I felt that I. was in the hands of a merciful God, and he would do with me what was right. In a few hours one of my men found me, and with the assistance of three others bore me oft on my blanket, stretched between two fence-rails, to a house about a quarter of a mile distant, and laid me on a narrow porch, which was so crowded with the wounded that there was only room for me at the entry, and my wounded leg was often struck by passers-by, to my great torture. Next morning I was carried on my stretcher for nearly a mile, and laid on the ground in an old field, with other wounded, to await surgical aid, which could not lie obtained until September 3, when, to my great relief, a surgeon amputated my leg. In another part of his diary, he says: The life of a soldier is calculated in many respects to have a hardening influence on the heart, but somehow it seemed to soften mine. When in that hard campaign 1 saw the sufferings of my men, and thousands of others; their weary gait; their bare and bleeding feet; and their heroic patience, my heart was touched to the core, and 1 often found the tears unconsciously coursing down my cheeks. . . . At the battle of Cedar Run, I was constantly witb my men. encourag- ing them and assisting them, and others whom I knew, to load. etc. They were so worn out by the march and the tight that, although much exhausted myself. I had to assist two of my men in the last charge through the cornfield, by having them to lean on my shoulder for awhile. m h 1