June 9, 2005

Civil War Medal of Honor decendant retells story and shares medal with Leland students

By Kymberli W. Brady
Staff Writer

To some, studying an event in history can be painfully tedious—an injection of endless dates and lackluster details committed to memory just long enough to pass a high school final. But find someone who lived it or a descendent who has assumed the role of keeping an ancestor’s story alive, and it could spark a smoldering campfire into a roaring inferno worthy of an epic movie.

After a successful presentation, Leland senior Geoffrey Lu shared in the experience of reliving a momentous period during the Civil War with Robin Dorsey, as they hold one of the first Congressional Medals of Honor. It was awarded to her ancestor Daniel Dorsey for his role as one of the Raiders in what has been called the great train race. The Congressional Medal of Honor has only been awarded to 3,460 of an estimated 30 million soldiers since the Civil War. Among them, Robin Dorsey’s husband’s great grandfather Cpl. Daniel Dorsey.

In fact, the movie “The Great Train Race” was based on the story surrounding the Civil War mission that placed Union soldiers 200 miles deep into enemy territory.

Until Monday, most of Leland High School teacher Megan Bergantz’s senior class had never heard of Daniel Allen Dorsey and the Butch Cassidy-esque adventure that later became known as Andrew’s Raid.

They didn’t know that the 33rd Ohio Infantry Regiment Corporal narrowly escaped execution during the Civil War nearly 150 years ago and returned to the Union Army a war hero. They also were unaware that he later received the Congressional Medal of Honor, the highest accolade the military had to offer—until they got to hold one in their own hands.

It only seemed fitting that Bergantz would stumble into Jim Wright at a funeral, when the genealogy buff recognized her maiden name (Starr) as one he had been researching and a conversation ensued.

She could hardly contain herself as he told her about Robin Dorsey, who not only inherited his stories, but clutched his legacy tightly in her hand, one that has now made it back into a classroom four generations later. From the looks on the kids’ faces as they held the medal, that’s right where it belongs.

“We know each other from church,” Dorsey stated. “He’s a real history buff and saw the medal hanging on my wall. He wanted to know more about it, so we started talking.”

“And I know Megan from church,” Wright added. “I ran into her at her father-in-law’s funeral.”

Bergantz was almost as excited about introducing the idea to her class as Geoffrey Lu was about resurrecting the Civil War mission that occurred nearly a century and a half earlier.

“Cpl. Dorsey,” Lu recited, as he read from his essay, “was born on Dec. 31, 1838 in Lancaster, Ohio. He joined the Union Army on Aug, 27, 1861. His mission, which would come to be known as the Andrew’s Raid began on April 7, 1862. That’s when James Andrews, a civilian spy working under the command of Union General Buell, was told to lead a group of enlisted men deep into Confederate territory, cut telegraph lines and burn bridges every step of the way so as to help the Union push their way to Chattanooga.”

Robin Dorsey shared the heroism of her husband’s great grandfather with Leland seniors on Monday, thanks to her friend Jim Wright (left), who met mentioned it to teacher Megan Bergantz at a funeral. She offered the story to her students and Geoffrey Lu chose it for his senior class project.

They eventually seized a locomotive called the General, disconnected it from the rest of the train, gunned the engine and made a run for Chattanooga. The Raiders, including James Andrews, Daniel Dorsey and the others dismantled track, burned bridges and clipped the telegraph lines along the way, derailing Confederate Army transportation and communication.

“I might add here that they were able to take the train because the crew had gotten off,” said Jim Wright. “It was a lunch break.”

Within 12 days of abandoning the fuel weary General 200 miles into enemy territory, all of the men were captured. Andrews and seven others were tried and executed as spies.

But before Dorsey and the rest of the crew could meet the same fate, their plan to escape proved successful on Oct.16. They made their way back to Union lines on foot.

Their bravery and courage would later serve as a barometer for future Medal of Honor citations. Dorsey’s citation, issued with his medal in September, 1863 lauded him for his role as, “One of the 19 of 22 men (including two civilians) who, by direction of Gen. Mitchell (or Buell), penetrated nearly 200 miles south into enemy territory and captured a railroad train at Big Shanty, Ga., in an attempt to destroy the bridges and track between Chattanooga and Atlanta.”

After admitting that she had no knowledge of the second medal in her possession, Robin Dorsey turned it over to Christine Chang, who is weeks away from entering WestPoint Academy. Her research later discovered it to be the Navy Medal of Honor, and although Dorsey was in the Army, it wasn’t uncommon to see the medal issued to others.

After the war, Dorsey moved to Northern California until he died May 10, 1918 at 88-years-old. Of his six surviving children, Clarence Arthur Dorsey, who was born in 1869, built a house on 10th Street and lived in downtown San Jose.

As fate would have it, his son, Clarence R. Dorsey would later grow up and take a position with the Union Pacific railroad before buying a walnut ranch on the East Side of San Jose. One of his sons, Donald Wells Dorsey became an Air Force pilot before settling in Almaden Valley with his wife Robin Wisley. They raised three daughters and watched them all graduate from Leland High School before he passed away on Feb. 8 last year.

During the presentation, Dorsey showed the class another medal, but didn’t know what it was for.

“We got these medals that were in his bin for many, many years,” Dorsey explained. “But I don’t know what this other one is for.”

Just weeks away from entering WestPoint Academy, Christine Chang went to work researching the origin of the unknown medal through documents and Internet links provided to her by the academy. She later discovered that it was a Navy Medal of Honor, and although Dorsey was in the Army, it wasn’t uncommon to see the medal issued to others.

An illustration of a young Daniel Dorsey appears in the book, “Wild Train, the story of the Andrews Raiders,” which, according to Robin Dorsey is a fascinating portrayal of the daring feat, up to and including the court transcripts that revealed the ultimate fate of seven members, including Andrews.

“Medals of Honor in the Civil War weren’t recorded accurately, according to the Web site,” Chang said. “So I checked to see if Corporal Dorsey might have gotten it and had it rescinded and not turned in. They rescinded over 900 medals because of copies that resembled it too closely. “

Chang then checked the rescinded list and was unable to find Dorsey’s name on it either.

“I guess she’s going to have to take it out of the case and see if someone else’s name is engraved on the back,” Chang said. “She needs to check the back of the medal to see if it’s his. It might have been placed with his things by mistake.”

About the Congressional Medal of Honor
The Medal of Honor is not handed out lightly, and then, only to those who have displayed extraordinary heroism and bravery in the battlefield. So elusive in fact that only 3,460 of an estimated 30 million soldiers have been awarded one in the 140 years since its inception in 1861.

That year, Senator James W. Grimes of Iowa authored a bill that would issue the medals to distinguished “petty officers, seamen, landsmen and marines” for “gallantry in action and other seamanlike qualities during the present war.” The Navy Medal of Honor was born. And approximately two months later, a similar bill passed creating the onset of the Army Medal of Honor.

Students at Leland High School were given the rare opportunity to see up close the coveted Congressional Medal of Honor awarded to Daniel Allen Dorsey, a corporal in the 33rd Ohio Infantry Regiment of the Union Army for heroic duty during the Civil War.

On July 25, 1963 Congress established stricter guidelines for issuing the medals many felt had been handed out too freely and were losing credibility. The new requirements stipulated that the recipient be “engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States while engaged in military operations involving conflict with an opposing foreign force; or while serving with friendly forces engaged in armed conflict against an opposing armed force in which the United States is not a belligerent party.”

With the new requirements in place, many of the previous recipients were found to have been ineligible for the medal.

“This was awarded during the Civil War,” Lu said, holding it up delicately. “That medal was one of the very first. It’s a treasure!”

Robin Dorsey agrees.