Leaving a Marker on American History

It was a Civil War raid so daring and dangerous that even the man who thwarted it came to respect the 22 volunteers known as Andrews’ Raiders.

The mission was to penetrate 200 miles into Confederate territory, steal a supply train from beneath the noses of 4,000 rebel troops massed at Atlanta, and then race north to Chattanooga, Tenn., leaving a trail of burned bridges, broken telegraph lines and ripped-up track.

James J. Andrews, the Union Secret Service agent who led the raid, hoped the disruption would lead to a Union victory at the Battle of Chattanooga, possibly ending the war.

What Andrews did not figure on was a gritty, hard-bitten train conductor named William A. Fuller, who, seeing his train stolen, gave chase--on foot, on a push car and, finally, in three different commandeered engines.

Repeatedly slowed by the need to pull off to spur tracks to let southbound Confederate troops--unaware of the raid--pass by, Andrews and his men were overtaken by Fuller and a gathering posse near Ringgold, Ga.

Eight of the raiders, including Andrews, were hanged as spies. The others were put in prison; some escaped, others were part of prisoner exchanges.

In March, 1863, six of the raiders became the nation’s first recipients of the Medal of Honor, established by Congress just two years earlier. The raiders’ mission had been a military failure, but its boldness was seen as a severe psychological blow to the South and a morale booster for the North.

Among the six recipients was a near-sighted, bookish 23-year-old Union sergeant from Ohio named William Pittenger. After the war, he joined the ministry and, after first moving to Escondido, became minister of United Methodist Episcopal Church of Fallbrook in 1893.

Before his death in 1904, Pittenger gained renown as an amateur astronomer, a lecturer against Darwinism, president of the school board, a rancher and a prolific author.

One of his books was “The Great Locomotive Chase,” which in 1956 was made into a movie by Walt Disney, starring Fess Parker as Andrews, Jeffrey Hunter as Fuller and John Lupton (later of TV’s “Broken Arrow”) as Pittenger.

For 84 years, Pittenger’s nondescript grave at Oddfellows Cemetery in Fallbrook made no mention of him as a Medal of Honor recipient.

Until last Saturday, that is, when a new tombstone provided by the Veterans Administration was unveiled.

The tombstone was secured through the work of Civil War buff Phil Arnold, a Marine Corps captain at Camp Pendleton. The tombstone was actually the second sent by the VA.

The first tumbled and broke in two while Arnold was displaying it on Memorial Day at the Fallbrook Antique Car Show in hopes of drumming up interest in Saturday’s ceremony.

Tombstone No. 1 will now reside in Arnold’s office. “I’m sure it will provoke a million stories,” he said.

Stinging Comeback

Just when you thought it was dandy to go into the water, along comes that occasional San Diego County beach party crasher: Pelagia noctifuca of the Coelenterata phylum.

Yes, the purple-striped jellyfish, its tiny harpoon-like nettles ready to sting your feet and thighs, is back after an absence of several seasons, thanks to a shift in ocean currents.

So far, it’s nothing like the year El Nino brought so many of the bell-shaped, free-floating creatures to beaches that lifeguards had to shovel off the gelatinous carcasses by the mounds.

But this summer’s sightings stretch from Mission Bay to Del Mar to Cardiff and Oceanside. Which brings us to Oceanside lifeguard-philosopher Greg Garcia’s Zen-like prescription for surviving a run-in with a jellyfish.

“A jellyfish sting is nature telling you that you are not as much in control as you think,” Garcia said. “It’s a good way to remember that the whole world is not Disneyland.”

Real Knockouts

Professional boxing made its modern debut at the Del Mar Fair on Friday night, and all signs look good for a rematch next summer.

The crowd was big (2,500) and well-mannered, the price was right (free), and the four-fight card proved highly entertaining.

Still, many of the veteran fans, who attend the monthly bouts put on by the same promoter at the El Cortez Convention Center in downtown San Diego, felt that the fights were a rip-off and cover-up.

The back cover of the 12-page programs had been ripped off before they were distributed. Fair officials said the racy full-page ad for the Pacer’s topless joint in the Midway area was unsuitable for the fair.

Officials also insisted that the card girls--who prance slowly around the ring between rounds--be more demurely attired than the G-string-clad young women used at the El Cortez. North County teen-agers modeling bikinis from a Cardiff swimwear shop were substituted.

“Boxing or no boxing, we are family entertainment,” pronounced fair General Manager Roger Vitaich.