Decoration Day Gold

     This is a true story, at least my part of it. I can't vouch for Jake.

      Many years ago, I took my family to the Gillum Decoration Day/Reunion at a pavillion in Rover, Arkansas. It was not uncommon for old Gillum relatives I did not know to show up. I'm the youngest of my generation of Gillums. Many of my cousins were grown and scattered to the four winds before I was ever old enough to know them.

      An old, old man I had never seen before got my attention and called me over, introducing himself as "Jake."

      "You look like a strong young man. I need your help."

     I inquired what he needed my help in doing. "I need you to go to Texas with me, and find and haul back 17 mule loads of gold," he said. I told him to tell me the whole story, so he popped open another can of soda pop, and motioned for me to pull up a chair.

      It seems that during the last years of the Civil War, some of the leaders of the Confederacy realized the end was near, so they decided to take much of the remaining gold of the Confederacy to Mexico, and hide it. After the war was over, and things had settled down, the gold would then be retrieved and used to rebuild the new Confederacy.

      The war ended, and years passed. The Reconstruction ended, and most of the Carpetbaggers and other Yankees that were going home had left. The time had come.

      Jake's Dad, a young man, was chosen to lead a team to Mexico, and bring back the gold. A map was given to him as they left. They took along a good herd of pack mules to carry back the mounds of gold. The time frame was in the late 1880's.

      Things went well. They found the gold, just where it should be. They quickly loaded up the mules, and headed out of Mexico as quickly as possible. The second day on the trail, they began to suspect banditos might be on their trail. They could see dust in the distance at times. They picked a hill where they felt they could defend themselves, if necessary, and made camp. They saw no more sign of riders.

      When bed time came, the team decided, just in case, to prepare for trouble. The Gold was hidden, as best they could, and the horses and mules were staked out to graze. The men took their bedrolls and climbed to the top of the hill, well out of the campfire light, and waited in the rocks.

      Hours passed, with no sign of trouble. Just before daybreak, shots were fired from the rocks surrounding the camp. The ten men returned fire. The battle raged until well up into the day. By noon, only three men were left alive on top of the hill, and the banditos were in a similar situation. Most were dead. Finally, the few banditos remaining were seen fleeing the battle, headed for Mexico.

      The remainder of the team assessed their situation. Seven men dead, all the mules were dead, only four horses remaining. One of the horses was shot in the leg. They decided they must bury their friends, then bury all the gold, make a good, detailed map on the way home, and get out of there before the banditos came back.

      They pulled out the next morning at daylight, and things went well for a time. Crossing into Arkansas, they were attacked by a rough, mean looking group of men, who obviously intended to rob them. Jake's dad's friends were killed, and three of the attackers were killed before the rest ran off. After burying his friends, Jake's dad continued on toward his home in south Arkansas. He had a lot of time to think on the trail. The Confederate cause was lost, he knew, and it would be a simple matter to report that the Banditos stole all the gold, and only he survived. This gold could make his family rich. He must wait a long time before returning for the gold.

      Many years went by. The map was stored in a hidden place in his house for many years. He was now an old man. Fear and caution had not allowed him to return for the gold. Finally, he realized. It's now or never. Soon, he would be too old for the hard trip. Jake's dad pulled him aside one day, and showed him the map. "Jake, I want you to look this map over good.  Next week, we're going for the gold. We'll take two wagons, and haul all of it we can."

      Jake's mother begged them not to go, fearing they would be killed. But Jake's dad knew it was now or never. The night before they were to leave, Jake's mother located the map, and in an attempt to save her family, burned it. Jake's dad was livid. After a day or two, he began to settle down a little bit. The map, and the gold, were gone. And, actually, he had always feared that trip, all his life, back to that place where he had seen so many of his friends die. He was secretly relieved.

      Jake had a secret that he never told his dad. Jake had a photographic memory. Every little detail of that map was locked away in his mind. But, as a boy, he was not anxious to make that dangerous trip, either, so he kept the secret. For many, many years.

Jake was continuing his story. "After my children were grown, and my wife died, I stewed about that gold every day. I know I can find it, I just don't see how I can ever get it out of Texas. I knew a lot of Gillum’s would be here today, and I need help from family folks." I knew Jake was some crackpot Gillum, and his story was crazy. Just to humor him, I said, "It's time to eat. I'll talk to you some more after lunch." Jake nodded his head OK.

      I moved down and filled my plate, eating with my family. I was thinking. I know he has to be a crackpot, but what harm would it do to humor this old man, drive him to Texas? He said the gold was hidden just east of San Antonio, and I loved the Alamo. Might be a good adventure. And, I might get a really good story out of it.

I threw my paper plate in the trash can, and headed back toward Jake. But his chair was empty. I searched all around that pavillion, but nobody seemed to know a Jake Gillum, or a Jake anybody, for that matter. The old man was just gone. Along with any thoughts that, in spite of my better judgement, were beginning to seep into the back of my mind about Confederate gold. 

     I never saw Jake again.