Happy birthday to Andrew Jackson

[Terabith]

Happy birthday to Andrew Jackson!

 

Andrew Jackson, our seventh president, was a lot of things, but all of them were crazy. He was born without a father, and his mother died when he was 14. At the ripe old age of 13, Andrew Jackson decided to fight the British in the Revolutionary War. In 1780, he and his brother were captured by the British and taken as prisoners of war. Young Andrew was ordered to shine the shoes of his captor. He refused, which earned him a long scar down his face from the point of a sword. He was then forced to march forty miles to another prison camp: shoeless, with no food or water, with an undressed wound and smallpox.

 

He went on to fight in the War of 1812 and the Seminole War, and then when he ran out of wars, he just started fighting duels. Lots of duels. In one duel, against a Charles Dickinson, Jackson did the gentlemanly thing and offered to allow Dickinson to go first, even though he was widely known as a crackerjack shot. Dickinson shot first, as Jackson stood there, taking it just to the left of his heart. While Dickinson was reloading, Jackson shot him dead.

 

Jackson wasn’t only adept with firearms. His nickname was “Old Hickory,” because he carried a hickory cane. Not to help him walk or anything, but so he could beat people with it. In 1835, the first assassination attempt in American history occurred when a man named Richard Lawrence had the ill considered idea to pull out a gun and fire on Jackson. The gun misfired, so Lawrence, who like a good Boy Scout had come prepared, pulled out a second gun and shot at Jackson. This gun also misfired. (Upon later inspection, both guns worked perfectly.) Jackson took his hickory cane and began beating Lawrence nearly to death with it until presidential aids had to restrain Jackson.

 

The man stands up to fictional hero standards. He makes Batman and Bruce Willis look passé.

 

He oversaw the Trail of Tears, the forceful removal of the Cherokee from their native lands to an area west of the Mississippi. The journey resulted in the death of a quarter of the Native Americans.

 

His first official act as president was to throw a giant party, which was less of a black- tie affair and more of an 18th century Burning Man. So many thousands of people (about 20,000) showed up that Jackson was forced to sneak out a window, and it wasn’t until someone had the idea of putting tubs of whiskey on the White House lawn that Jackson was able to sneak back in and get down to being president. However, undeterred by the consequences of radical hospitality, when Andrew Jackson was gifted a giant, 1400 pound wheel of cheese, he put out a series of advertisements inviting the entire country to come help him eat it. Unfortunately, the stink and fragments of the cheese so perfumed the White House that it could be scented for a mile in any direction. And thus did Jackson vacate the White House. Poor Martin Van Buren.

 

Upon the election of Martin Van Buren, Jackson was asked if he had any regrets about the previous eight years. “That I didn’t shoot Henry Clay, and that I didn’t hang John C. Calhoun.” That’s right, after a presidency (and a life) chock full of duels and deaths, Andrew Jackson’s only regrets were that he didn’t kill more people.

 

[Beth S]

Thank you @Terabith!

[Spy Car]

Just reading the thread title made me brace myself for the worst. LOL

Bill