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Relic hunters race to save Cobb's Civil War history
By BILL HENDRICK
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 08/28/07
Rope-like vines and low-hanging branches make walking tough in the piney wilds of west Cobb County, but they don't slow down avid hobbyists like Bill Swafford. They are racing against time and developers, who are bulldozing away the last remnants of little known Civil War battlefields that still have stories to tell.
"Hey, look at this," says Swafford, gently brushing dirt from a jagged hunk of an artillery shell that exploded 143 years ago. He's found the shell with his digital metal detector. "It's a Parrott shell. This groove is where the fuse was. Wonder if it hit anybody?"
Bill Swafford, seen through the hole in his metal detector, looks at a nail he dug up while hunting for civil war relics in the woods of some private property slated for development.
Swafford, 51, is talking to relic hunters Brian Copelan, 47, and Jim Hammonds, 57, a nuclear engineer, and transplanted Pennsylvanian who refers to Union soldiers as "Yankees."
"This was on the flank of the Battle of Gilgal Church, a couple weeks before the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain," says Swafford, a manager for Marietta Power.
They are among the hundreds of metro area relic hunters who search in places like Cobb where suburban sprawl creeps like kudzu over historic places where battles were fought and hundreds died.
In just a few hours, the three men —fanatical amateur historians —find seven Minie balls used by both Union and Confederate troops and two pieces of cannon shot, along with more recent relics that also tell tales — old shotgun shells and tear-off pop-tops that beer companies stopped using in the late 1970s.
"It must have been pretty hot right in here, a lot of action," says Copelan, a lighting expert from Ohio, after unearthing a rare .69-caliber lead bullet. "This would have clipped a man's arm right off. I'm glad I'm here now and not then."
Hammonds, who like Copelan lives in Paulding County, hardly lifts his head. He's listening intently to beeps and looking at the digital screen of his metal detector, one of the more expensive kinds. They range in price from $600 to $1,800.
"It's another fired bullet," he says, even before kneeling to gently brush away topsoil with his fingers. And it is. Experienced hunters can often tell what their detectors have found before any digging is done.
Hobbyists must get permission to hunt from private landowners and developers in areas where troops fought, camped or marched. Most know that relic hunting on federal or state land is a crime, and that trespass laws protect landowners.
Sometimes, they knock on the doors of homeowners oblivious to what happened in their backyards in the summer of 1864, says Swafford, a Georgian who had three Confederate ancestors and two in the Union army.
Hammonds brought a stack of thick books on this hunt, some with maps that show what Union and Rebel units were in the area, which directions they tramped and where they fought.
"There's still enough out here to keep us busy, but time is clearly running out," Hammonds says. "They're going to put $600,000 homes right in here. Up the road, there's a subdivision of $900,000 houses."
Members of metro clubs have found everything from bullets, live shells, pistols, bayonets, belt buckles, U.S. and Confederate buttons, rare coins, to personal items like smoking pipes. Occasionally, a sword turns up.
"Pretty soon, it'll all be under subdivisions and office buildings," Copelan says. "It'll be like Atlanta, where nothing is left but highways and buildings."
Archaeologists generally frown on relic hunters "because they don't document the context in which they find artifacts, making interpretation impossible," says Dave Crass, Georgia state archaeologist. "What would be helpful is for these relic hunters to keep records of what they find and where, and under what conditions."
Many do keep records, but say it makes no sense not to rescue artifacts before they are buried forever, Hammonds says.
Experts say relic hunting is popular because it helps people connect with the past.
"I found my first Civil War bullet where Lowe's now sits on Cobb Parkway in Acworth," says Anita Holcombe, 53, of Acworth. "It was a thrill — knowing it hadn't been touched since summer 1864."
The rank and file of the two clubs is made up of doctors, lawyers, academics, truck drivers, business owners and folks like Barry Banks, 57, who spent 30 years on the Cobb County police force, and Cobb Deputy Chief Billy Mull, who's hunted for 40 of his 63 years.
In general, Banks says, most relic hunters keep what they find, and those who do deal in artifacts only sell "stuff bought or traded for" at big shows, like one held recently at the Cobb County Civic Center.
Mull says the hobby isn't just fun, but a way to bring history alive.
He once found a badge of a Union soldier that bore the name Rudolph Papst. After some detective work, Mull learned that Papst was an officer in the 10th Michigan Infantry, survived the war, became a real estate agent and lived for another 20 years.
"To make a connection like that is pretty amazing," Mull says.
http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/cobb/stories/2007/08/27/relics_0828.html
kenb
By BILL HENDRICK
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 08/28/07
Rope-like vines and low-hanging branches make walking tough in the piney wilds of west Cobb County, but they don't slow down avid hobbyists like Bill Swafford. They are racing against time and developers, who are bulldozing away the last remnants of little known Civil War battlefields that still have stories to tell.
"Hey, look at this," says Swafford, gently brushing dirt from a jagged hunk of an artillery shell that exploded 143 years ago. He's found the shell with his digital metal detector. "It's a Parrott shell. This groove is where the fuse was. Wonder if it hit anybody?"
Bill Swafford, seen through the hole in his metal detector, looks at a nail he dug up while hunting for civil war relics in the woods of some private property slated for development.
Swafford, 51, is talking to relic hunters Brian Copelan, 47, and Jim Hammonds, 57, a nuclear engineer, and transplanted Pennsylvanian who refers to Union soldiers as "Yankees."
"This was on the flank of the Battle of Gilgal Church, a couple weeks before the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain," says Swafford, a manager for Marietta Power.
They are among the hundreds of metro area relic hunters who search in places like Cobb where suburban sprawl creeps like kudzu over historic places where battles were fought and hundreds died.
In just a few hours, the three men —fanatical amateur historians —find seven Minie balls used by both Union and Confederate troops and two pieces of cannon shot, along with more recent relics that also tell tales — old shotgun shells and tear-off pop-tops that beer companies stopped using in the late 1970s.
"It must have been pretty hot right in here, a lot of action," says Copelan, a lighting expert from Ohio, after unearthing a rare .69-caliber lead bullet. "This would have clipped a man's arm right off. I'm glad I'm here now and not then."
Hammonds, who like Copelan lives in Paulding County, hardly lifts his head. He's listening intently to beeps and looking at the digital screen of his metal detector, one of the more expensive kinds. They range in price from $600 to $1,800.
"It's another fired bullet," he says, even before kneeling to gently brush away topsoil with his fingers. And it is. Experienced hunters can often tell what their detectors have found before any digging is done.
Hobbyists must get permission to hunt from private landowners and developers in areas where troops fought, camped or marched. Most know that relic hunting on federal or state land is a crime, and that trespass laws protect landowners.
Sometimes, they knock on the doors of homeowners oblivious to what happened in their backyards in the summer of 1864, says Swafford, a Georgian who had three Confederate ancestors and two in the Union army.
Hammonds brought a stack of thick books on this hunt, some with maps that show what Union and Rebel units were in the area, which directions they tramped and where they fought.
"There's still enough out here to keep us busy, but time is clearly running out," Hammonds says. "They're going to put $600,000 homes right in here. Up the road, there's a subdivision of $900,000 houses."
Members of metro clubs have found everything from bullets, live shells, pistols, bayonets, belt buckles, U.S. and Confederate buttons, rare coins, to personal items like smoking pipes. Occasionally, a sword turns up.
"Pretty soon, it'll all be under subdivisions and office buildings," Copelan says. "It'll be like Atlanta, where nothing is left but highways and buildings."
Archaeologists generally frown on relic hunters "because they don't document the context in which they find artifacts, making interpretation impossible," says Dave Crass, Georgia state archaeologist. "What would be helpful is for these relic hunters to keep records of what they find and where, and under what conditions."
Many do keep records, but say it makes no sense not to rescue artifacts before they are buried forever, Hammonds says.
Experts say relic hunting is popular because it helps people connect with the past.
"I found my first Civil War bullet where Lowe's now sits on Cobb Parkway in Acworth," says Anita Holcombe, 53, of Acworth. "It was a thrill — knowing it hadn't been touched since summer 1864."
The rank and file of the two clubs is made up of doctors, lawyers, academics, truck drivers, business owners and folks like Barry Banks, 57, who spent 30 years on the Cobb County police force, and Cobb Deputy Chief Billy Mull, who's hunted for 40 of his 63 years.
In general, Banks says, most relic hunters keep what they find, and those who do deal in artifacts only sell "stuff bought or traded for" at big shows, like one held recently at the Cobb County Civic Center.
Mull says the hobby isn't just fun, but a way to bring history alive.
He once found a badge of a Union soldier that bore the name Rudolph Papst. After some detective work, Mull learned that Papst was an officer in the 10th Michigan Infantry, survived the war, became a real estate agent and lived for another 20 years.
"To make a connection like that is pretty amazing," Mull says.
http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/cobb/stories/2007/08/27/relics_0828.html
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