Battery I, 1st NY Light Artillery - AKA Wiedrich's Battery - consisted of a few hundred enlisted men who bravely fought for the Union Army during the American Civil War. The Battery was born through the recruitment efforts of my great-great grandfather, Captain Michael Wiedrich, who led the men through numerous battles, including Gettysburg at East Cemetery Hill.
That's about the extent of the story as I knew it until mid-2021. I'd read a few articles about the Battery over the years, found Wiedrich's name in a Time-Life book and even visited Cemetery Hill with my wife in 2014. While that experience was awe inspiring to say the least, to me, the Battery largely remained a two-dimensional, enigmatic collection of men whose black-and-white visages did little to provide insight into who these heroes were or what motivated their charge.
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| Survivors, provided by Forest Lawn Historian Patrick Kavanagh |
Then, in 2021, I received a forwarded email via my sister from Diane Pesch-Savatteri, President of Concordia Foundation in Buffalo, New York. Her group took it upon themselves to voluntarily restore and beautify Concordia Cemetery, one of the oldest in Buffalo (I later learned there are many). Concordia serves as the final resting place of several members of Wiedrich's Battery. At Diane's invitation, I made the trek to New York to attended an event hosted by the Foundation, "Honor, Sacrifice and Courage: Erie County during the Civil War Featuring Wiedrich's Battery." Thanks to Diane, arrangements were made for me to spend precious, private moments during my short stay with top-notch historians who I feel I can now wholeheartedly call friends. At cemeteries, a church and a museum storage facility, Wiedrich and his battery came alive. Over the course of a day and a half, these black-and-white soldiers became flush with color, their lungs full of the same Buffalo air I was now breathing. They each had a favorite color, a favorite food, human strengths and frailties. They were real people, and they were fascinating.
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| Portrait of Lt. Col. Michael Wiedrich, Buffalo History Museum |
And it turns out each of those men in the black and white photo had a name.
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| Survivors legend, provided by Forest Lawn Historian Patrick Kavanagh |
Now the disclaimer: I am not a historian, not knowledgeable about the Civil War, Buffalo, genealogy, the nineteenth century or even my great-great grandfather. I am a collector of information because I find it interesting. I do it not so much out of a sense of urgency, but for pleasure, as a swimmer might enjoy a dip in a warm pool as opposed to a frantic flail in a turbulent sea. Don't get me wrong: If I lived in Buffalo, I would most certainly join Diane's army as they work to unearth toppled tombstones and beautify Concordia; their work is both meaningful and important. The purpose of this blog is to share my experiences and perceptions of what I've learned from others; it is not here to provide new information, but to credit those who did the legwork. Oh, and to share some pretty cool pictures!
(Note: to see the photos full size on your desktop or laptop, left click once on the photo...then right click once and select "open image in new tab." Now go to the new tab; you will find that within that tab, you will be able to magnify the photo significantly. A little complicated at first, but it will become second nature. Those using a phone or tablet can tap once on the photo and pinch and pull to your heart's content.)
So to kick off the blog, I will go through my experiences of that fateful weekend, from the time I touched down at 1:00 PM on Friday to when I said goodbye to everyone Saturday night. My goal is timeliness at the expense of sloppiness, as the details are already beginning to fade after only one week. Subsequent posts will include information I glean from literal stacks of material I received from my brilliant, new friends. I bet there will be even more after I return to Buffalo next year.
Finally, if you are a historian, please do not hesitate to correct or append any comments I make. I won't be offended, but grateful. History has no room for egos.
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