Hallowed ground. There’s no other way to describe Antietam National Battlefield National Park. Even more than 160 years later, you can feel the weight of the bloodiest day in American history – more than 23,000 casualties in less than 24 hours.
One of those soldiers that gave their life that day in service to their country was David Brainerd Tarbox (Company B), my second great-granduncle. Fortunately, his brother and my great-great-grandfather, Henry Fisk Tarbox (Company C), managed to survive not only that day, but the entirety of the war.
Armed with the knowledge that the brothers served in the 108th New York Infantry, the fine folks with the National Park Service were able to print out an hour-by-hour accounting of where the unit was on September 17, 1862. Unfortunately, they found themselves at the tip of the spear – one of the first units to try to breach the Confederate lines at the sunken road, which later came to be known as Bloody Lane.
Based on the troop movements and a conversation with an extremely helpful NPS ranger, I was able to determine an approximate area where David Tarbox most likely fell (red box on the map below). It was a goosebump inducing moment where I felt the ghosts of not only my ancestors, but from the enormous loss of life in this otherwise nondescript field in Maryland.
From there it was on to the cemetery to find David Tarbox’s final resting place, capping off an experience I’ll never forget.
On the Road with the Ashbys 