Last week I had the privilege of leading a group of students though a class in which I introduced them to a hero of mine named Silas Soule. The class was held at Riverside Cemetery where Captain Soule’s life is marked by a simple granite military headstone.
It was 152 years ago that Silas Soule's life took a dramatic turn. November 29th 1864, Captain Soule chose to deliberately go against the orders of his superior. That superior officer, Colonel John Chivington, ordered his entire regiment to an attack on an unsuspecting peaceful encampment of Cheyenne and Arapahoe Indians in what became known as the Sand Creek Massacre.
On that day, 26 year old, Silas could clearly see that within the Indian camp an American flag was flying high and just below it a white flag. Captain Soule was one of two officers who refused to obey Chivington’s orders. An estimated 150 Indians were not just killed but many horrifically mutilated by young men looked upon by many as patriots.
Despite threats to his life, Soule would testify in court against Chivington. Five months after the massacre (and five weeks after getting married) Soule’s lack of blind obedient nationalism would see him murdered by those loyal to the Colonel.
As I stood next to that headstone sharing the story of Silas with those students a distinct wave of disgust flowed over my being. I haven't been able to shake it in the days since.
Chivington, a racist nationalist was also an outspoken Christian, a Methodist preacher in fact. I wonder, how do characteristics such as these seem to be the very pedigree that continues to promote the latest versions of John Chivington to move up the food chain of American public service today?
Recent Comments