Recollections of Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg

It was a bright, crisp morning in November, just sixty-eight years ago, that a party of neighbors set out from the hamlet of Possum Creek, in the foothills of the South Mountains. It was an eleven-mile trip by carriage to Gettysburg. A great battle had been fought there not so long before, and a President was coming that day to deliver an address whose ringing words and noble message were destined to roll down with irresistible force through all the years to come.

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