Virtual Palmyra Post

The Palmyra Post, September 1999

Obituary
Dear friends: A sad duty befalls us. We must mourn the loss of one of our most noble and gallant members. This past June 30th, Tom Culross collapsed at work and all efforts to revive him failed. Almost everyone in the NCWA knew Tom, if not by name, then surely by sight. His erect soldierly bearing and calm, but authoritative, voice made him memorable to us all. In any event, Tom's mustard-brown jean-wool trousers and kepi made him a distinctive figure. Tom served the NCWA in many ways. Not only was he a veteran re-enactor of many years with the 14th Tennessee, but Tom also served his country during actual wartime, first in Vietnam and again, more recently, in the Persian Gulf. He brought the military professional 's passion for order, honor and disciplined study to our amateurish efforts at playing soldier. Tom made those of us who marched in ranks under his watchful eye feel as though we too were veterans. His voice commanded attention and he led by patient example, carefully explaining the finer points of military duty to errant privates. Only a few seasons ago, Tom won appointment to the position of battalion Sergeant Major. Those who served with him on the Confederate staff never found Tom wanting in attention to duty. Indeed, then Adjutant Clay Norman, expressed the belief that the entire staff relied upon Tom to instruct privates, other NCOs and, occasionally, officers in the art of soldiering. Tom generously shared whatever he knew with everyone. Yet despite his years of professional experience and excellent knowledge of the War Between the States, Tom never posed as an authority or pretended he did not have more to learn, even from 'fresh fish'.	Tom turned out at Ardenwood for what proved to be his final re-enactment. As usual, Tom led the 14th in singing our marching song. Of course, he was the only one who actually knew all the words, but he also had a fine, clear singing voice. Many of us will remember Tom just for his singing. Naturally, we all sat around joking and telling lies about our lives to amuse one another, but not Tom. Instead, he spoke lovingly of his family. He described how he and his wife recently celebrated their 18th anniversary. He talked about how his teenage daughter just got her driver's license and his plans to provide her with a car. Tom was a man unafraid to express his love for family, friends or country. Tom always drew a crowd around him when he broke out his canned rations. As part of his campaign impression, Tom would lug tins of peaches or beans in his pack. He used to soak off the original labels and paste on period ones to give them the proper, authentic look. He used a bayonet or Arkansas toothpick to pry open the lid and then the rest of us would volunteer to help eat whatever he served up. Tom gladly shared rations with everyone in the company. He was generous with his knowledge, rations and friendship. I found the quote below in Bell Wiley's The Life of Johnny Reb. It comes from a letter informing the dead man's family about the loss of their beloved son. It speaks eloquently of another man named Tom, but it captures better than anything I can say, what we in the NCWA felt about Tom Culross: (Continues on Page 3)

Obituary

Dear friends: A sad duty befalls us. We must mourn the loss of one of our most noble and gallant members. This past June 30th, Tom Culross collapsed at work and all efforts to revive him failed. Almost everyone in the NCWA knew Tom, if not by name, then surely by sight. His erect soldierly bearing and calm, but authoritative, voice made him memorable to us all. In any event, Tom's mustard-brown jean-wool trousers and kepi made him a distinctive figure.

Tom served the NCWA in many ways. Not only was he a veteran re-enactor of many years with the 14th Tennessee, but Tom also served his country during actual wartime, first in Vietnam and again, more recently, in the Persian Gulf. He brought the military professional 's passion for order, honor and disciplined study to our amateurish efforts at playing soldier. Tom made those of us who marched in ranks under his watchful eye feel as though we too were veterans. His voice commanded attention and he led by patient example, carefully explaining the finer points of military duty to errant privates.

Only a few seasons ago, Tom won appointment to the position of battalion Sergeant Major. Those who served with him on the Confederate staff never found Tom wanting in attention to duty. Indeed, then Adjutant Clay Norman, expressed the belief that the entire staff relied upon Tom to instruct privates, other NCOs and, occasionally, officers in the art of soldiering. Tom generously shared whatever he knew with everyone. Yet despite his years of professional experience and excellent knowledge of the War Between the States, Tom never posed as an authority or pretended he did not have more to learn, even from 'fresh fish'.

Tom turned out at Ardenwood for what proved to be his final re-enactment. As usual, Tom led the 14th in singing our marching song. Of course, he was the only one who actually knew all the words, but he also had a fine, clear singing voice. Many of us will remember Tom just for his singing. Naturally, we all sat around joking and telling lies about our lives to amuse one another, but not Tom. Instead, he spoke lovingly of his family. He described how he and his wife recently celebrated their 18th anniversary. He talked about how his teenage daughter just got her driver's license and his plans to provide her with a car. Tom was a man unafraid to express his love for family, friends or country.

Tom always drew a crowd around him when he broke out his canned rations. As part of his campaign impression, Tom would lug tins of peaches or beans in his pack. He used to soak off the original labels and paste on period ones to give them the proper, authentic look. He used a bayonet or Arkansas toothpick to pry open the lid and then the rest of us would volunteer to help eat whatever he served up. Tom gladly shared rations with everyone in the company. He was generous with his knowledge, rations and friendship.

I found the quote below in Bell Wiley's The Life of Johnny Reb. It comes from a letter informing the dead man's family about the loss of their beloved son. It speaks eloquently of another man named Tom, but it captures better than anything I can say, what we in the NCWA felt about Tom Culross:

(Continues on Page 3)

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