Mr. Washington Comes to Nashville

I must confess it.

George and I have been having an affair this past week.

He arrived at my house, polished and pristine, his arm outstretched and his collar starched, spine straight and presenting himself as quite the indispensable man. I figure he shall be staying for at least another week or so, as we have so much to discover of one another.

Though mostly we've been speaking of battles and Indian guides, love and massacre, desperation and disillusionment, we have, at times, spoken of some of the more indulgent activities in life. We've dabbled in the conversations of his enjoyment of plays and puppet shows, cockfights and horse races. George captivated my attention the moment he arrived, and continues to enamour me with his stories of a life I could never have lived and a world I can only strive to comprehend.

He was a hopeless romantic. I stole glimpses of the love letter that was tucked away amidst a maze of words. Within this letter was poetry. (Though not, perhaps, the most eloquent of writers, he at least was able to express his heart through the written word.)

Being a humble sort, we discussed his first attempt into the world of leadership. At such a young age of 22, he already designated a group of soldiers to be "The Virgina Regiment". The next logical step would have been to incorporate this regiment into the already exisitng, "regular establishment" of British soldiers. This would have allowed the British army to have a stronger assistance in the upcoming engagement of war against France, due to "The Virginia Regiment's" knowledge of the land. Had this fallen into effect, George would have been a regular colonel, taking on a leadership position worth thousands of pounds and much responsibility. As it were, however, he was notified that "The Virginia Regiment" was not to be incorporated but broken up due to the fact that he was a mere local and not of aristocratic stature. He would be allowed no title higher than "Captain" and thus, he promptly resigned from the army and decided to become a tobacco planter.

Something to ponder: If he had continued with his journey as a tobacco planter, would we be purchasing cartons of cigarettes and cans of tobacco with a printed logo of: "Washington Red, White and Chews" or "George Lights" instead of using currency with Washington's face on it to do the purchasing of today's tobacco?