Mysteries do not always remain unsolved. In 1961, I was hitting my softball bat in the dirt, awaiting my turn at bat. I unearthed, from a recent rain-eroded bank an unusually shaped object, mostly encrusted with white oxide. My classmates immediately told me it was “ah cyb woah bullit” My family had recently moved from south Florida to Jonesboro, Georgia. I knew what bullets looked like, and this one was too short and fat, and had a mushroom-like projection from one end.
Of course, it turned out to be a Williams Cleaner, type 4, minus the zinc ring. To this day, I am amazed to have picked up a bullet, dropped by some young soldier – what was then – 97 years ago.
I have been “hooked” on this fascinating period of American history ever since.
Mysteries do not always remain unsolved. In 1961, I was hitting my softball bat in the dirt, awaiting my turn at bat. I unearthed, from a recent rain-eroded bank an unusually shaped object, mostly encrusted with white oxide. My classmates immediately told me it was “ah cyb woah bullit” My family had recently moved from south Florida to Jonesboro, Georgia. I knew what bullets looked like, and this one was too short and fat, and had a mushroom-like projection from one end.
Of course, it turned out to be a Williams Cleaner, type 4, minus the zinc ring. To this day, I am amazed to have picked up a bullet, dropped by some young soldier – what was then – 97 years ago.
I have been “hooked” on this fascinating period of American history ever since.