HARRELL,William H. Pvt. C.S.A.
June 20, 1904
Here From Arkansas

W. H. Harrell On a Visit to Old Friends in Trigg

Mr. W. H. Harrell, of Harrison, Boone county, Ark., reached the county last Thursday on a visit to old friends and relatives. He is an old Confederate soldier, and came here from the reunion at Nashville.

Mr. Harrell is a native of Trig county. He is a brother of Mrs. Emaline Heath and a nephew of Mr. Pink B. Harrell. In 1865 he left the county and moved to Arkansas, and has since made his home in that State. He has been back to his old home but once since in 1873. He is doing well in Arkansas. While considerable changed in appearance, there are yet living many who knew him when he lived in Trigg, and all are glad to see him. He will probably leave the last of this week for his home in Arkansas.

September 12, 1907
From W. H. Harrell
EDITOR RECORD. Will you allow me space in your valuable paper to communicate with my many friends of the dear old county of Trigg?

As I have recently left that good old country and gotten back to my adopted home in Arkansas, I wish through your valuable paper, to give an account of my trip home.

After leaving Gracey at 7:15 I arrived in Kuttawa at 9; at that place I had the pleasure of meeting many of my old comrades, and promptly at 10 marched to the beautiful school building, where, after prayer, we listened to the eloquent address by the president of the Commercial Club of Kuttawa. Then came the eloquent address by Gen. Tyler, who said in part that he was a Confederate soldier and fought for what he knew to be right, and that it made him sick to hear a speaker say the Southern soldier fought for what he thought was right. At the conclusion of his speech came dinner, spread on the ground in regular picnic style, and such a dinner you seldom see save in the grand old State of Kentucky.

After dinner the principal speaker was the Hon. W. J. Stone, that grand old one legged Confederate soldier who spoke for over an hour and held the crowd spell bound by his masterful eloquence. After Stone came Judge Bingham, of Cadiz, who spoke for the Sons of Veterans, and did honor to himself and the cause he represented. At the conclusion of Judge Bingham's address the old veterans marched from the grounds to their headquarters, never again to all meet this side of eternity.

At 6:00 we boarded the train for Memphis, passed through the Purchase into West Tennessee, the land of Davy Crockett, where he used to fight the panther and the bear, and now the same country has been transformed into a second Eden. At 12:30 we arrived in Memphis, the metropolis of Tennessee, and home of the dashing, Fearless General Forrest, the wizard of the saddle. Memphis is indeed a magnificent city and Southern to the core. We stopped overnight in Memphis and took the train Sunday morning arriving in Newport Sunday afternoon, where we spent the night. Monday our route lay up the beautiful White River valley and for 150 miles we were carried along that picturesque stream, the scenery of which is not equaled in grandeur by the famous Hudson. Now passing frowning bluffs hundred of feet high, then skirting fertile farms, again passing under towering cliffs, where the placid stress flowed gently below. Passing on your come to the famous Calico Rock, solid bluff many feet high the rocks of which contain every color of the rainbow. AT the town of Calico building are being erected out of the stone, hence the town is called Calico. After passing through the zinc field in Marion and Boone counties we arrived at Burgeman, Boone county, our home, and the home of the big red apple and the luscious Elberta peach. Having been gone from Boone county nearly four weeks we returned to find the country suffered from a severe drought

With good wishes to all, I am

- - - - - -
Comrade Writes of Henry Vinson And Other Memories
EDITOR RECORD - A few days ago I received the sad news of the death of my life long friend, Mr. H. C. Vinson, which occurred July 15, 1925.

I take this method of extending my heart felt condolence to his relatives and friends. Henry and I were friends in boyhood days as soldier in the same company, and after the war was over, we were inseparable friends.

After I came to Arkansas in 18-- we kept up our friendly correspondences until he came to Arkansas in 1870. We then became neighbors again. After seven years residence in Arkansas, he went back to Kentucky. We then kept up our correspondence until his death. As life long friends I never knew anything of him only as a gentleman in every sense of he word.

In the summer of 1922 Henry accompanied by his loving grand daughter, Miss Catherine Thomas, visited at my home at Bellefonte, Ark., and Henry visited me again in 1923. That was the last time I had the pleasure of his company.

Thru the columns of your paper that goes into many Kentucky homes I send greetings to all my old comrades who are living. Those of Co. D., Second Confederate Cavalry, and them, as well as all of my dear old friends of Trigg County.

I would be glad to hear from any of them thru the columns of your paper or by letter. I assure them that I still have the same Southern spirit. I love to live in the land of Dixie under the soft Southern skies where summer pours out floods of sunshine and showers and the generous earth smiles with plenty.

I love to live on Southern soil where the cotton fields wave their white banners of peace and the wheat fields wave back their banners of gold from hills and valleys which were once drenched with the blood of heroes.

I love to live where the mocking birds flutter in the shadows cover and bright waters ripple in eternal uncloudy by the graves where our heroes are buried.
I love to breath the soft Southern air that comes thru jungles of rose land whispers to us of deeds of bravery. I love to drink from Southern springs and bubbling brooks which once cooled the lips of Lee and Jackson, Forest and Gordon, and the weary column of brave men who were the gray.

I love to live among Southern men and women, where every heart is as warm as the sunshine and every home a temple of love and liberty.

I still love to hear the melodies of the old Southern songs,--- the songs of the redeemed in the city not built with hands," will make us think of those songs of long ago. Realizing that the shadows are lengthening and the time is approaching whom there will be a

"Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness or farewell
When I embark.
For I hope to see my pilot fact to face,
When I travel crossed the bar.
Bellefonte, Arkansas