Below is the handwritten journal entry for Day 5 written by Brett Kelley:
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A transcript follows the images.
-Wednesday Feb. 10, 2010
At 2:20 am this morning I received a surprising visit from an unknown patriot of the Union cause. I woke to a loud knock on the door and a voice calling out ” I have messages” “who are you?” I replied “I have messages” was the answer, “What is your name” “I have messages and I am loyal to the Union cause” came the reply. Convinced that friends were playing a joke on me, I went to the door and opened it a crack. Standing before me was a bearded man with what appeared to be ski poles and cross country skis, with a small back pack. Greetings were quickly exchanged and the messages delivered, in the form of beer bottles the number being six. The name affixed to each bottle read TROEGS, a name that I am not unfamiliar with. In the blink of an eye the messenger was gone, leaving no name, but his messages was clear in my mind. (good luck, and I support what you are trying to do.) By the next morning the storm was in full swing and the wind was blowing with the force of a hurricane. The day was quiet, and the museum was closed because of the snow. My only visitor was a photographer for a news agency. He was pleasant and we past a few hours discussing history and photography. Before he left he admitted that he was stalling his departure because of the extremely bad weather that seems to be amplified on top of this hill. I didn’t mind and appreciated his company. During his visit he managed to take some photographs despite the weather conditions including some of myself chasing my disobedient forage cap that refused to stay on my head in the blowing wind. My head first plunge into a snow bank will be on the blooper reel I presume. Soon I was left only with my thoughts and the howling wind. the wind blew so hard at my lofty locale, that I was sure at one point that I would awake with my cabin in Paxtang the next morning. But the cabin remained firm, at least most of it. During the night I heard the stove pipe outside shift, and went out to check on it. After verifying that all was well I headed back inside taking a wide route to avoid deep snow, I saw a large gust of wind rolling across the snow with snow flying in front of it. As I turned my back to brace against it I glanced over at the cabin just in time to see the door forcefully ripped off its hinges and flying several feet away by the wind. I quickly realized that the door could not be fixed and rehung in the high winds, my first thought was that this was going to be a cold night. Luckily for me Mr. Goodyear had invented the process of vulcanizing rubber prior to the Civil War and I had a rubber blanket that when nailed to the door frame made a fine temporary substitute for the wounded door. The night was drafty and cold despite my best efforts to shore things up, but by morning I had made it through another winter storm.
Today has been quiet as Harrisburg digs out. The museum was open, and I had visits from several hardy souls, including a team from WITF which was fun. I have passed the days by writing in my journal crushing coffee beans with the flat side of my hatchet and organizing and cleaning my equipment. It is still quite windy but hopefully the worst is over. I also repaired and rehung the door and it is a good as a 150 year old temporary door. At least I should be warm tonight.
