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<p>[QUOTE=&quot;Joshg1928, post: 7437782, member: 93606&quot;]Being from Pittsburgh, I’d love to see what this city looks like in 1865.&nbsp; Well, in a once in a lifetime opportunity, I am presented the knowledge and power of unobtainium for a night.&nbsp; I am told “it’s a bit wonky for a time machine, pick the place, we lost the date dial.”</p><p><br /></p><p>what was not explained well enough was the complexities and complications that coincide with warping the fabric of time and space.</p><p><br /></p><p>I arrive in what appears to be the Troy hill area, based on the position I am in reference to the rivers. Only, it’s not the Troy hill I remember. There appears to be cows accompanying me in the landing zone.</p><p><br /></p><p>with little time to spare.&nbsp; I step out of the machine to camouflage it, only to realize the “period correct” clothing I picked up was a bit off. The shoes I had been wearing must have been modern, because they seemed to de-materialize on the journey. Oh well,&nbsp; I covered the high tech lugger of a time machine and quickly head off down a dirt road into town. </p><p><br /></p><p>about 2/3 the way down the hill, my feet can’t take it, I take scraps of my sleeves and wrap my feet for some level of protection.&nbsp; IM IN 1865!&nbsp; I cant quit over a few blisters. As I do this I see a dull silver object in the dirt.&nbsp; I dust off the 1857 dime and figure I ought to go get myself some shoes. </p><p><br /></p><p>when I arrive at civilization on the north side at around 2:30pm. The locals say it’s “Allegheny city”.&nbsp; What on earth is that?&nbsp; Either way, I ask about shoes and am informed to cross the bridge into Pittsburgh, there’s a cobbler about a half hours walk. </p><p><br /></p><p>at 3pm I realize, giving myself 4 hours return to be safe, I only had a few short hours in the city. Forget shoes. First I’ll wet my whistle.&nbsp; I walk into the nearest pub and ask for a whiskey and a beer.&nbsp; The grand total comes to $.03. I gladly produce the silver dime and an returned a healthy mix of 7 cents. Large cents(52 and 53), Indian heads (2 1860s, 2-63s and a 64 in decent shape. Maybe XF). </p><p><br /></p><p>if the old coinage wasn’t exciting enough, I look up and see a monstrous pint of ale, and a small glass of Rock gut whiskey which has some foreign objects and debris floating about. I sip the warm pint and pocket the change, so I don’t draw any unwanted attention. After I attempt to stomach the whisky, I quickly find myself around the corner of the building. </p><p><br /></p><p>now sitting, recovering in sight of the front door of the establishment, no shoes, covered in dirt, “strange” accent.&nbsp; A gentleman tosses another 1864 IHC (Another fine example, Xf-au) to me and mumbles something about “a poor soul” to his mate. Light bulb goes off and I decide to stick it out on the front porch. </p><p><br /></p><p>After another 2-3 hours, I’ve got my total up to $.16. All common one cent pieces. Mostly in well circulated condition. I ask a fella the time after he supplied me with a 49 braided hair cent in vf condition. When he says “it’s got to be prit near 6”, I decide it’s time to go as to not be searching for a time machine in the dark( flashlight didn’t make the journey either.).&nbsp; As I begin to get to my feet I am asked by an ancient voice “where did you serve?”&nbsp; </p><p><br /></p><p>a grizzled old man with only 3 fingers on his left hand is speaking to me as though I had lost everything in the war.&nbsp; Me trying to remember my civil war history responded “under that coot, Meade.&nbsp; Antietam to Gettysburg.”&nbsp; </p><p><br /></p><p>he reluctantly chuckled softly and said “war is war, get some shoes.”&nbsp; All as he handed me an 1857 braided hair HALF cent. It was in perfect shape, 60+ all day long. It gave me to mojo I needed to trudge 3 hours back uphill. (After one more $.02 ale)</p><p><br /></p><p>I make it with plenty of time to spare, and return safely to my current timeline, only I’m still in Troy hill, (about an hour drive from my current residence) and my shoes never came back. </p><p><br /></p><p>after calling my wife to pick me up, she has a hard time believing anything I say, chaulking it off to a booze fueled bender. She didn’t believe me even after I showed off my 15.5 cents I returned with. Including this beaut. </p><p><br /></p><p>thanks for believing me friends.[/QUOTE]</p><p><br /></p>

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