Local History: John Poniske Brings History to Life

The seeds of John Poniske’s affinity for history were sown in Lincoln country. Poniske grew up in Springfield, Ill., the same city that Abraham Lincoln had adopted as his adult home. While in Springfield, Lincoln honed his skills as a lawyer, orator, and future statesman. He left for Washington, D.C., in the spring of 1861 to assume the leadership as the 16th president of the United States.

John Poniske also left Springfield and began a successful career as a U.S. Marine, journalist, and teacher. Through these experiences, Poniske developed his talents and forged a creative identity. In the process, he recognized the power of history to educate and inspire cultural reflection. Today, Poniske’s work interprets the incredible challenges faced by leaders like President Lincoln, and also explores the past struggles and triumphs of ordinary Americans.

Poniske is an unusual author. His intelligent imagination has not only produced descriptive stories in several books, but has also fostered the creation of historically based board games whose cards and military strategies illustrate and interpret famous battles. With these rare skills, John Poniske brings history to life.

In the mid-1990s, Poniske began working as a military game designer. Several publishers took his ideas to fruition, encouraging modern generals to test their combat skills. Poniske’s games include Lincoln’s War, Balls Bluff, Bleeding Kansas, Plains Indian Wars, and Flanks of Gettysburg, released this year. In this latest board game challenge, players get the chance to revisit—and possibly even change—history as the Confederacy gains new opportunities to outflank Union forces across the rugged and rocky terrain of Gettysburg.

During his prolific career, Poniske created more than 20 published games, with other designs planned for future release. But after Poniske retired from teaching at Hagerstown, he sought a new outlet for his talents. He wanted to write historical fiction. “Those military games are a great way to teach history, and designing them led to my leap into writing — to create stories that would make people want to dig deeper.”

In addition to his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in history, Poniske possessed a unique pedigree and soon embarked on an ambitious novel-writing project. The idea came while hiking the Appalachian Trail. Poniske saw a sign: “Beware of Timber Rattlers.” The Civil War was playing out in his mind, and Poniske recalls, “It struck me that we also had to beware of poisonous ideas.”

That day, the concept for “Snakebit” was born. Poniske decided to write a historical book series, with that title, about two fictional Maryland families. “I wanted to convey the idea that our current political malaise is based on divisions that arose just before, during, and after the Civil War. By using the historical record as my outline, readers would experience our history in details they may not have heard before.”

In the first Snakebit book, titled “Prelude to War,” Poniske introduces compelling characters through a series of historical vignettes. The abolitionist Garretts battle their slave-owning neighbors, the McCunes. During ongoing adventures, various family members encounter runaway slaves, argue over abolition, meet a campaigning Abraham

Lincoln, and in one memorable chapter they are spectators at the famous criminal trial of John Brown in Charlestown, Virginia (now West Virginia), in October 1859.

In Chapter 9 of Prelude to War, titled “The Greatest Trial of the Century,” fictional young cousins ​​Geoff and Victor Garrett leave Boonsboro for a trip to Harpers Ferry. They are eager to see where the infamous river raid took place, and then travel on to Charlestown to witness Brown’s trial. Brown, of course, was the perpetrator accused of treason and attempting to incite a slave rebellion. The following passage is an excerpt from that chapter of John Poniske’s book:

The two cousins ​​arrived in Charlestown early the next morning, the sun had not yet risen. Yet the streets of the city were already filled with crowds of sleepy people, half upright, half reclining. Thousands of spectators were just coming to life, and, like Victor, every man wanted to catch a glimpse of the infamous John Brown. It did not take Victor long to realize that he had been mistaken. This was now the second day of Brown’s trial, for which he had been berating himself endlessly all day.

When asked about the trial, a passerby told them that it would be “almost impossible to get into the courthouse. The best thing to do is to lie down near the courthouse doors before sunrise if you think you can get in and see the ‘greatest trial of the century.'”

At home, Victor had imagined a crowd surrounding the trial, but not quite like this. He led the way, weaving in and around groups of people, Geoff following close behind, weaving his way through the carnival atmosphere.

They passed a man strumming a banjo, another blowing a Jew’s harp. A quartet of women in white caps sang the familiar strains of “How Firm a Foundation.” At one point, a husband-and-wife team tried to sell them hair tonic. They also passed two separate individuals who claimed to be selling actual locks of Brown’s hair for $5 apiece—one brown, the other . . . blond. The crowd around the stately courthouse was equally dispiriting.

Geoff was driving next to him. “See what we’re doing again? What’s wrong with you?”

Victor considered his options. “Geoff, if we can’t get into the courtroom…” But the increasing conversation around him drowned him out. He started again, competing with the commotion. “It won’t be worth the trip unless we can get in! You save a spot for us here, outside the courthouse. ​​I’ll get us a room.”

“Good,” he replied, and then raised his voice to be heard. “Good!”

“Tonight,” Victor added, “we’ll sleep in shifts to keep our place.”

Geoff smiled but shook his head as if to say, “Are you sure what you’re doing?” and dismissed him with, “Take care of it, cousin.”

Hours later Victor returned with a sour face. He saw that in his absence armed militiamen had positioned themselves on either side of the courthouse entrance. Geoff was fast asleep, stretched out

on the walk, using the base of one of the building’s massive pillars as a cushion. Men and women huddled around him, loudly debating Brown’s crimes and expected punishment. Victor nudged his cousin with a boot.

One of Geoff’s eyes opened in response. “Y’git it?”

“I did… three times as much as normal, I should say, and we have to sleep on the floor, but at least blankets are provided.”

“Every roof in the rain,” Geoff thought.

The doors of the building were suddenly thrown open and the crowd surged forward. Geoff scrambled to his feet and together they joined hundreds of others who filed into the line as grim officers of the court watched their orderly entry. As they entered the building, they shuffled across a floor strewn with peanut and chestnut shells, the detritus of the day before. They were not the last to enter, but at least they found a bench in the back row.

Sunlight streamed through tall, grimy, curtainless windows. Victor estimated that by the time the doors closed, some five to six hundred souls were packed shoulder to shoulder into the gallery. At least the defense and prosecution teams at the front of the room had some breathing room.

They had to wait a long time before the leading man arrived. When he did, John Brown did not enter standing on his own two pegs. Instead, men carried him in on a litter, his eyes closed. His large, bushy, unkempt beard sprang up in all directions. Brown’s face and head bore numerous cuts and bruises. Scars from the struggle or the result of quarrelsome captors. A handful of mournful-looking followers were herded in afterwards. One was bandaged six ways until Sunday. Victor heard whispers that he carried numerous bullets from the confrontation. Comments brought him to the realization that another had apparently died of his wounds behind bars, “and rightly so.”

Judge Richard Parker entered shortly thereafter and everyone stood up—everyone except Brown. They were asked to sit down, sat down again, and the day’s session began. The judge sternly warned that “any visitor to the gallery who attempts to disrupt the proceedings will be thrown unceremoniously on his ear.” Thus began the second day of the “trial of the century” and Victor hung on every word uttered by every speaker. Geoff slept on his shoulder for thirty minutes.

Poniske’s Prelude to War takes readers on an evocative journey, one that goes to the edge of the first cannon fire of the Civil War. The next two books in the Snakebit series — “Fire-Eaters” and “Choosing Sides” — delve deeper into a war that sometimes pitted neighbor against neighbor. Other interesting storylines include the Garretts’ secret efforts to help free slaves via the Underground Railroad.

“The Crack Widens” is the fourth book in the Snakebit series, recently released. Poniske plans to write 18 volumes to complete this intriguing saga, which will follow the adventures of the Garretts during the Reconstruction period that ends in 1876.

Poniske sees a unique literary role for his Snakebit series. “Most history books focus on big events, but that big picture is based on equally important smaller pictures. My books explore those segments of history. It’s an ongoing story, but each chapter is a standalone story.” Poniske’s research material comes from old newspapers, diaries, and biographies, among other sources.

John Poniske’s Snakebit books are sold at Waynesboro’s Wee Scot Bookshop and Gallery 50. They are also available online through Amazon. Flanks of Gettysburg, Poniske’s latest war game, can be ordered online from Compass Games (compassgames.com). The author’s website (johnponiske.com) offers more information about his varied career. An audiobook of Prelude to War, featuring Poniske’s resonant voice, is coming soon.