Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Not a Happy Marriage: The Story of Mary Ann (Mangan) Gabbard

A while ago, I began working on a story about a Civil War soldier named Michael Gabbard, who supposedly was on the honor guard transporting Abraham Lincoln’s body from Chicago to Springfield. I planned to do a post exploring that story, but part of the information a cousin gave me about this was a typed autobiographical sketch of this man’s wife, Mary Ann Mangan. I started to use excerpts from it in my post, but the sections related to him and/or the Civil War were much longer and more interesting than I expected, so I realized that her story would make a worthwhile post itself. It provides unique perspectives of life in that era, including how a relationship developed into the life of an immigrant, marriage, family loyalty, even an example of teenage rebellion (not a new concept), and, overall, a life story of one young woman in mid-nineteenth century America. Those interested in studying gender roles or race relations in Kentucky might find parts of this story valuable. (For anyone curious about her entire story, a copy of the full document is Iiamson.)

In my transcription of the pieces of the document relevant to this post, I attempted to correct most spelling/grammar errors, but intentionally left a couple grammar mistakes which I thought added authenticity or a “down-home” feel to this tale, making it read how I imagined she spoke. I have italicized her words below, but added a few links and other details.

Mary Ann Mangan was born March 25, 1848 in Ireland. In her youth, she lived in both Ireland and England, before sailing to the United States in 1858, landing in New York Bay. In New York, “we exchanged our British money for U.S. money. I saw the first Negro I ever saw in New York.” Her family travelled west to Milwaukee. “There I saw my first watermelons, cucumbers and squashes. There I saw the first ear of corn. I didn’t know whether it was hand made or natural.” They eventually moved to Illinois. 

While living in Peru (Illinois,) I attended church and Sunday school regularly. While attending school, I became acquainted with a number of nice young men and girls who were my classmates. In the spring of sixty-one, while on my way to school, I was told the South had seceded and war was inevitable. War was the topic of the day. The war cloud was darkening the northern horizon and the valiant sons of the North were preparing to rush to the awful encounter. 

I quit school, went home, and went to clerk in a store in my home town. The proprietor of the store was a Southern lady and she it was who persuaded me to marry your father, my husband. I stayed with this Southern storekeeper in the summer. When school opened, I would quit the store and go to school. I left the Southern lady and went to work for an old gentleman and his wife. The lady was an invalid. She was very kind to me and I liked to live with her very much.

I was living in Chicago and, with a friend, went to visit the great Senator Douglas’ grave on the bank of Lake Michigan. There was a picnic on the grounds. There were swings. I got into one and my friend was going to swing me when a young man stepped up and said: I’ll swing you if you wish me to. I let him move the swing a short time. Then I said Please stop the swing. He done as I requested. I thanked him and went walking off. It was time to go home. When I was getting to the street car, my acquaintance of the swing was at the car door and asked me if I enjoyed myself. Yes, I answered in a happy, joyous way. My friend who was with me was an old lady and she requested the name of the young man who swang me and had been so nice to her. He gave her his name and address. He promised to get a pass for the lady to go inside of Camp Douglas. The law of the camp was ‘No citizen allowed inside,’ unless some friend was a soldier and on duty there. The young man’s name was Michael Gabbard, Co. G 7th Regt., V.R.C.  Camp Douglas, Chicago, Ill.  He got my address and I hadn’t been at home but two days when I got a letter from said Michael. 

And what began in an indifferent acquaintance ended in marriage. I had not been long acquainted with Mike Gabbard when he asked me to marry him. I was not thinking of such a thing. I was young and told him I didn’t want to marry. He was persistent. I went home. Mike wrote to Mother while I was at home, asking her consent. She was furious. She made life so hard for me. I went to my southern friend with my trouble and of course she was for her Southern friend. She persuaded me to leave home and marry him, which I did. If Mother hadn’t been so harsh to me, I wouldn’t have left home and married a strange man. Mother never forgave my Southern friend for what she done in the matter. After I was married and with Mike in Chicago, mother wrote to me to come home and stay with her until Mike got his discharge as Mike could not get a house to move into as the houses in camp were all occupied. Mike consented for me to go. I was but a short time at home when he got a pass for twelve hours, which he lengthened to eight days. When he went back to camp, he was put in the guardhouse four days. It was Christmas time and he had lots of company in the guardhouse. Mother and my good stepfather treated him royally. Aunt Sally and Aunt Kate gave us a dinner as also did Mike’s Southern friend. Mike went back to duty at Chicago. I stayed with Mother.....Mike was at this time waiting for a house to become vacant. At last, the happy time arrived. He notified me to come. He had a house. Well, we got to housekeeping.

Mother hated to see me go very much and I hated to leave her and my good old stepfather. He and mother came to the train to see me off and bid me goodbye. That was the last time I ever saw my stepfather. I parted with him forever; he was a good man. Mike liked him. I went to housekeeping in Camp Douglas, Chicago. I liked to keep house very much. There was three young men, soldiers, of Mike’s company, (who) boarded with us.  We enjoyed their company very much. One was a New Yorker, one was an Indianan, and one was a Canadian. They were cultured gentlemen, and we enjoyed their company very much. (Let me say here, your Father was well liked by all his comrades.) In the latter part of sixty-five, the war was over. The prisoners were all discharged, and gone home. And the soldiers wanted to be discharged also. They had enough of war, such a cruel war.  They wanted to follow their peaceful avocations of life. 

Mike got his discharge from service at Chicago, Ill. Your Father received two honorable discharges. We left Chicago in the latter part of Nov, 1865, arrived on Lexington, Ky., and stopped at the Broadway Hotel. Took the stage next day for Richmond, Ky., stayed over night at the Webster Hotel. Next day took the stage to Irvine, Ky. We arrived in Irvine on Sunday evening, the landlady was not at home when we arrived at the Iiamson House, our hostess being a colored lady. She took charge of my things, waiting on me very politely. In the mean time, plying me with questions. She asked me where I was from, and when I told her I was from the North, she asked me if she was free. I told her “yes! You’re as free as I am.”  She gave me an earnest look, threw her arms up over her head and shouted “Thank you Lord. I’ll just stay with them through Christmas.” Her mistress had told her she was not free in order to get her work. She was a good cook and her place couldn’t easily be filled. The landlady got very angry at me for telling her black woman she was free. I had no apology to make to the landlady. 

Mike and I walked to Proctor, stayed all night at an old acquaintance of Mike’s, Frank Daugherty. Next day we started to walk to Booneville Ky.

She then writes more about her life before concluding with the following revealing, especially sad lines: 

Married at Chicago in September 15th - 1864
Michael Gabbard of Booneville Ky to Mary A Mangan of Henry, Illinois.

The marriage was performed by a Justice of the Peace. His name was Charles Chilson. I kept his business card a long time after I came to Ky. It was not a happy marriage with me but I remained true to my obligations as a wife and as a mother. I done the best I could for my children, whom I dearly loved. They are all married and in homes of their own and I am in the evening of life. I wish to live in quiet until I reach the Home not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 

A family history site claims Michael may have been known as “Drunk Mike,” perhaps the cause of the unhappiness, and my cousin wondered if he may have been shell-shocked or had what we now call post-tramautic stress disorder, especially since he had been serioysly injured in the war (thus his presence in the Veterans Reserve Corps.) Could such a condition have led him to the bottle? 

I find it extremely interesting - perhaps even suspicious - that this account makes no mention of her husband as part of Lincoln’s honor guard. Could she have forgotten this information from about 50 years earlier? Any memoirs or reports written so long after an event or time may include faulty memories. (For instance, she noted Michael I. The 7th regiment, VRC, but re olds show he was in the 8th. That was likely a slip of the memory on her part.) Another possibility is that the nature of the marriage may have discouraged her from praising him, but she did make other positive comments about him, so her intentionally omitting the honor guard situation seems improbable. The document does not read as though she was bitter, nor that  she intended to discredit him. It makes no mention of his supposed fondness for the bottle and only includes that one line about unhappiness.

I do wonder about this omission because if her husband was on that honor guard, that would have seemed like an important piece of his life, but maybe it was not important to her. Otherwise, did she not believe he was on the honor guard? Was he truly part of that unit? If not, where did the story come from? In the next post, I will explore this part of their story more. 

The lack of a name for her “Southern friend” also puzzles me, but 50 years is a long time so her memory may have failed or she felt it too insignificant to include.

Mary Ann (Mangan) Gabbard passed away on November 14, 1923 and was buried in the Elihu Reynolds Cemetery in Cow Creek, Owsley County, Kentucky. Her husband had died in 1902 and was buried in the Esau-Gabbard Cemetery in Ricetown, Owsley County. Was her burial in a different cemetery due to her unhappiness with the marriage? Or was her spouse buried in a family cemetery which ran out of room before she died? 

One of their granddaughters, Edna Gabbard, married Charlie McIntosh. My family tree includes a McIntosh line (including a direct ancestor in the war) though any relation to this particular family is likely quite distant. That might be a genealogy project for the future.  

I will continue to work on the story about her husband Michael Gabbard and will post it when it is ready. 

These undated photos are from

Michael and Mary Ann Gabbard

Mary Ann Gabbard

Headstone of Mary Ann (Mangan) Gabbard.

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Quick Book Review: The Battle Rages Higher: The Union’s Fifteenth Kentucky Infantry

By Kirk C. Jenkins
Copyright 2003
The University Press of Kentucky

I finally have finished another book, as my reading continues to be slower than it should, so I thought I’d post a few thoughts about it. It has been a while since I did a book review. 

The Battle Rages Higher is a fine book,well-written with a readable and enjoyable narrative. Jenkins’ writing style is a good fit for this subject.

I had heard about the 15th Kentucky during my trips to Perryville, where I stood on and near the hallowed ground where they fought near the Bottom House. I have been there several times but that was about all I had heard of this unit. Once I saw this book, it was only natural for me to read it, though I wish I had done so years ago. Still, it is better late than never - I am glad to have read thus work.

This book is a basic regimental history, tracing the unit from its formation and following it into the many battles and campaigns in which it fought, including Perryville, Stone’s River,  Chickamauga, the Atlanta Campaign and more. A few of its  men were even sent to in Andersonville and though three of them survived that prison, two of the survivors ended up on the doomed ship Sultana. Private Milton Davis somehow lived through that disaster after years of war then Andersonville. That fascinates me.

Jenkins discusses the various battles and campaigns in good detail, using letters, official records and other sources for information and details to discuss the men, their leaders and their army.  It comes across as a well-researched book that provides an in-depth review of the regiment.

This book is from 2003, so plenty of  other scholarship has taken place in the years since then. I’m admittedly not expert enough to know what newer studies might add to Jenkins’ work, but this is an enjoyable and informative book that I do recommend others read. I knew of the 15th Kentucky’s fight at Perryville, but that is only a small part of this unit’s story, a tale like that of many regiments - marching, camping, fighting and various hardships in the field, away from home and family.

One surprise I received from this book was that several members of it were from, lived in, died in or are buried in my home of Campbell County, with a couple others from neighboring counties. I had never heard or expected that. At least one of these soldiers lies at rest in the same cemetery as my paternal grandparents. This entire section with the biographies of the unit’s soldiers is a terrific piece of this book, even for the many men with no connection so local to me.

The discovery of these men (most in Companies H or I) will likely lead me to a future project looking into their lives more deeply. Jenkins does include a sentence or two about each and perhaps his work will form the majority of my idea, but maybe I can find more information about at least a few of these men, or even pictures of headstones. This is something I will work on, though I am not yet sure of the format. Perhaps I will do a separate post for each name, finishing each one as I can or maybe I will do one or two longer posts focusing n several men at a time, or all at once. I have no clue on the timing of this, but I started a draft with a list of the names from the book, so that is at least a start. 

Another piece that might only interest me was that this unit mustered into the army in the small town of New Haven, Kentucky. This meant little to me, except for referring to that town  in a fairly recent post I made, but, more unexpectedly, during my recent trip to Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace, I passed through New Haven just before arriving in Hodgenville. Had I read the early part of the book more recently or planned m6 trip more in advance, I might have realized how near those towns are to each other, but I did not and seeing the “Welcome to New Haven” sign did catch me off-guard. That is just another small connection th3 book made to my life.

The Battle Rages Higher is a very good book about a Kentucky unit full of Kentucky men, and their many war-time experiences. It certainly belongs on Civil War bookshelves and in the hands of readers.

Thursday, February 27, 2020

Brief Tour of a Few Abraham Lincoln Sites in Kentucky

After my brief trip to Perryville  I decided to spend a night in the area and do some more “heritage tourism” by visiting a couple other sites I had not seen for several years. 

I visited the small town of Hodgenville to look at the large Abraham Lincoln statue in the middle of the town and the smaller statue of Lincoln the boy that I had forgotten was there.

It was an enjoyable trip. The museum in Hodgenville is not huge, but is very nice. It is definitely worth a visit, especially if you’re already in the area, since it is not at all far from the birthplace. It is also near several other great tourist attractions and in hindsight I wish I had planned my trip more and made stops at Shaker Village, Fort Harrod, My Old Kentucky Home and the Civil War Museum in Bardstown. A trip to Danville would have been nice too.  Other readers might like the area because of the Bourbon Trail and the choices it offers, though that’s not for me. It is a wonderful region of the state, very scenic and with a lot of history. 

Here are some photos. The sky was not as perfectly clear as the day before, but it was a warmer day and stayed dry, so I cannot complain at all, especially in February.

The nearby museum was not yet open, so I headed to Lincoln’s Birthplace at the Sinking Spring Farm. 

I then returned to town to visit  the Lincoln Museum once its opening hour had arrived.  It is a neat little museum, certainly worth visiting. Here are just a few scenes from it.

Here are a pair of views from Lincoln’s Boyhood Hone on the Knob  Creek land

Monday, February 24, 2020

Quick Perryville Visit

My blogging continues to be frustratingly infrequent, but this weekend I made a quick drive to visit a couple Civil War sites and I figured I’d post some thoughts and pictures, starting at one of my favorite places on the planet. 

First, I stopped by Perryville for  a couple of hours, my first visit there for a few years. I did not even take my camera as I did not plan to take a lot of pictures, a foolish mistake on my part. All I planned to do was visit the museum, then some of the land the park had acquired since my last visit. I pretty much did that, but then walked over a bit of familiar ground - not a long hike like in previous years, but it was nice seeing the Open Knob and Starkweather’s Hill again, and knowing that I already had at least a basic understanding of what had happened there.

Of course, I had my phone, and ended up taking quite a few pictures with it on a gorgeous, gorgeous day, with a bright blue, cloudless sky. It was also about 50 degrees, not at all bad for a winter’s day (and probably much preferable to the hot, drought-stricken conditions the soldiers endured during the actual battle.) Most of my photos were of cannons and fences, as usual. I took a few of the field, but despite the beautiful blue sky, the browns and grays of winter grasses and weeds did not really show off the beauty of this place, at least when all the greenery returns. 

That is pretty much all this trip was - to come back and enjoy the scenery and serenity. I  did not plan it as a learning trip and it did not become one. Perhaps that is shame on me, but I really enjoyed the chance to relax, clear my head and walk some of this hallowed ground without trying to remember names of units or colonels, captains and majors. I know I have much ,ore to learn @bout the battle, but I believ3 this trip had great value to me as well. 

I encourage anyone who has not visited Perryville do so if you can. It is a terrific site,more of 2gichnK3ntucky should be quite proud.

Here are some of the photographs I took in random order.

My next post will feature some photographs from my other stops. 

Open Knob in distance

Pardon my shadow on this one. The sun was bright and the sky clear. Fortunately I Usually managed not to repeat that error too often. 

Monday, January 27, 2020

A Most Lamentable Affair

Perhaps others more familiar with this unit have heard of this incident, but I had not until I found this newspaper account, so I thought I would share it here as I found it to be an interesting incident.

In late April of 1864, the men of the 31st Illinois infantry gathered at Carbondale, Illinois, preparing to return to the field after enjoying their well-earned furloughs. 

Local citizens planned a celebration for them, but unpredictable spring weather changed plans from a big reception to a nice meal and ball, which the soldiers still most certainly enjoyed.

The 31st achieved a distinguished Civil War service record, both before and after this gathering.  

The website Little Egypt in the Civil War called this regiment “one of the greatest in the Union,” and also provided the below image of John Logan.

Originally organized by John “Black Jack” Logan, the unit changed leaders, but remained an active fighting force. Throughout the war, it fought in battles and campaigns including (but not limited to) Belmont, Fort Henry, Fort Donelson, the Siege of Vicksburg, the Atlanta Campaign, the March to the Sea and the Carolinas Campaign, including Bentonville. It participated in the Grand Review of the Armies in Washington D.C. before heading back west, where it mustered out July 19, 1865 and was then discharged in Springfield, Illinois on July 31. 

On the day of their meeting in Carbondale, festivities continued despite the poor weather that spring day.

A(ndrew) J. Kuykendall, the popular former Major of the unit, and a future Congressman, gave a speech that the men enjoyed, and soon an incoming train brought in Adjutant General Allen C. Fuller.  Fuller, described as an “eloquent speaker,” was “pressed into service” to give another speech. Rain continued to pour down, but the soldiers attentively listed to the General’s talk. 

Later that afternoon, however, a sad incident marred the day’s festivities. Here is how the May 2, 1864 Cincinnati Enquirer described it.  (The colonel’s actual name was Lindorf Ozburn, slightly different than how the writer spelled it in the story. His attacker was was William Weaver, as the final photo below the text shows.)

Lindorf Ozburn, per

From Cairo
Special Correspondence Cincinnati Enquirer
Cairo, April 24, 1864

A most lamentable affair occurred in the afternoon, which threw a gloom over all and marred all the happiness of the day. Lindsey Osburn  Esq., who succeeded General Logan as Colonel of the thirty-first (Brigade, Illinois volunteers), came into town in the morning, but did not mingle much among the men of the regiment, with whom he was personally quite unpopular. About three o'clock, he was sitting in R.M. Morgan's store, conversing with Quartermaster Swarthscope and several citizens, when two soldiers entered; one of them, named Weaver, from Williamson County, a member of Company K, approached Colonel Osburn, and without addressing a word to any one, struck Osburn a severe blow with a weight upon the left side of his head, breaking the skull, inflicting a mortal wound. As he passed out of the door, Weaver remarked, "You can lie there." Those in the store were so taken by surprise that no effort was made to arrest Weaver, who succeeded in making his escape. At noon yesterday Colonel Osburn was still alive, but insensible, and pronounced to be beyond the possibility of recovery.

Weaver owed the Colonel an old grudge for punishment inflicted while the latter commanded the regiment, and with several others had sworn to take his life upon the first opportunity.

Weaver exhibited the utmost coolness and determination in the affair, and showed himself to be a scoundrel of great nerve and daring. It was a cowardly act, and we are sorry that Col. Cook (perhaps Edwin S McCook) did not use more prompt and energetic measures for the villain's arrest. No effort should be left untried for Weaver's apprehension - he is a dangerous character to be at large, and every man, be he soldier or civilian, is in duty bound to exert himself to bring the murderer to justice. Colonel Osburn was a native of Murphysboro, about 43 years of age, and leaves a large family. He was Orderly Sergeant in a company raised in Jackson county during the Mexican war, and when the 31st regiment of Illinois volunteers was organized he was appointed its Quartermaster - subsequently became its Colonel.


A photograph on shows a historical marker that confirms the killer’s name and fate. 

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Lack of posting

Sorry for the lack of posts in recent weeks. I still hope to make at least 2-3 posts per month, but right now a lot is going on

I have some ideas for upcoming posts and even have a couplevof drafts started. Hopefully I will will be able to complete and edit them soon and return to posting a bit more frequently. 

I am still here.

Thanks for your understanding 

Thursday, December 26, 2019

Some Newspaper Comments on South Carolina Seccession

In the days after South Carolina announced its secession on December 20, 1860, the Cincinnati Enquirer published several brief stories on various aspects of this event. Here is one that I thought was worth sharing from December 23, 1860.

Some people might say this article made a point the Confederacy never truly addressed, though Jefferson Davis does have his supporters, and others might claim Robert E. Lee stepped into that role through his military successes. 

The Revolution at the South - A Leader Wanted

Who is the “coming man?” (asks the  Philadelphia Bulletin) of the revolution that the Cotton States are trying to bring upon this Republic? Who is to be the Cromwell, the Napoleon, the Washington or the Girabaldi of the proposed Southern Confederacy? Thus far all the movements of the Seccessionists have failed to bring out from the masses a great genius, who may be able to “direct the storm” they are raising. Lawrence M. Keitt is not exactly the man to found a new nation; neither is Mr. Yancey  nor ex-governor Wise nor Senator Hammond  nor any one of the men that have mot furiously and impetuously urged secession. The soberness, wisdom, and self-possession of the South are all among the anti-secessionists. It is chief among the young and heedless that the insurgent spirit rages most violently. The destinies of a people can not safely be left in such hands. The very confusion and conflict of views that prevail among the Seccessionists prove how wrongly they are they are acting, not only to the whole nation, but especially to themselves. This confusion, also, prevents the enlistment of any great, wise and leading spirits in the cause of secession. There is a show of harmony, because so many people say they want secession. But as to the mode of accomplishing secession there seem to be irreconcilable differences, which, as the work of secession goes on, will develop into violent and dangerous jealousies. In such a state of the Southern popular mind, it is no wonder that there is a failure to obtain a great leader. Have the Seccessionists thought of the necessity of having some one wise and patriotic head, who will command the respect and confidence of all their people?

Tuesday, December 10, 2019

The Would-Be Soldier

During the Civil War, some women disguised themselves as soldiers (male, of course) in order to fight in the war. This was not an overly common occurrence, but it did happen, probably more frequently than most people realized then or do today. This subject, however, has garnered more attention and study in recent years. For instance, the American Battlefields Trust has published a story on Female Soldiers in the Civil War, and here is a Smithsonian story on the topic. This nice article also discusses this situation, and a quick online search will turn up many similar accounts.

 I came across such an instance described in the January 10, 1862 Cincinnati Enquirer, and immediately knew it was a must share as I did not recall seeing a similar account in a local source. That it happened in Kentucky certainly heightened my interest, and then I realized it mentioned a unit that I’ve read about at Perryville, the 15th Kentucky Infantry, further capturing my attention.

Camp Temple, mentioned in the article, was Camp Joseph B. Temple, in New Haven, Nelson County, Kentucky, the same city in which the 15th Kentucky organized and mustered into service.

Location of New Haven, from

This unsigned letter was written from Camp Ham. Pope, also near New Haven, on January 6, 1862.

An incident not common in modern times, though frequent in the Amazonian and the days of chivalry, occurred at Camp Temple, adjoining us, yesterday. Some five weeks ago, a fine, healthy-looking and dashing young man joined Colonel Boone’s regiment (the 28th Kentucky Infantry.) He was duly mustered into service and performed the arduous duties of a soldier since, standing his regular guard and doing picket duty in his turn; but by some unlucky accident it was discovered yesterday that the man had changed his sex and turned out to be a woman. She was compelled, much against her will, to doff  the habiliments of Mars and substitute hat and hoops in their place. She was sent to Louisville under escort, with a view to be sent to Indiana, where it is said she hails from. She is a young widow, with captivating eyes and air and charms of romance. It is said she formerly enlisted and served sometime in a cavalry regiment, where she had a lover, and adopted the method of re-enlisting to reach him before or on the battlefield. I regret that I have not her name to send to you for the benefit of the novel writers, who could make a charming romance out of the affair. So fascinating was the would-be soldier, when forced out of unmentionables, that she quite captivated the heart of a gay Lieutenant, belonging to the Fifteenth Regiment. (This probably refers to the 15th Kentucky Infantry, which was organized at New Haven in the time frame the article describes.) He was formerly a rollicking disciple of Crispin* but now the light and life of the camp. He happened to be at the depot when she was departing, and, hearing the circumstance, immediately yielded himself up, a willing votary of the shrine of the heroine. Had she turned her face in any other direction than that of Louisville, the Fifteenth would now be minus one Lieutenant; but, inasmuch as there was another claimant for his affections there, with half a dozen responsibilities, he concluded that “discretion was the better part of valor.” 

The correspondent did briefly mention the female soldier’s physical appearance and “charms of romance,” while portraying her as chasing after a man, but also praised her work as a soldier instead of only commenting on traditional female traits, a fair and respectful description of this person. Of course, the lack of a name or other identification is a frustrating hole in the story, as is the ignorance of what the “unlucky accident” that revealed her secret was, but is still is a small, fascinating piece of the Civil War.

*The meaning of “a disciple of Crispin” is unclear. Crispin and Crispinian are patron saints of “cobblers, currents, tanners, and leather workers” per Wikipedia, and a St. Crispin’s Day Speech appears in Shakespeare’s play Henry V, but but neither of those appears to make sense in the context in which this article uses it. If anybody sees something I’ve overlooked, leave a comment or email me. 

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