The Sage of White Oak, Virginia is Gone

By Robert Lee Hodge · Originally published January 2020 · p. 13

D.P. Newton, the well-known Stafford County, Va., Civil War relic conservator, passed on October 8. He was 66. His museum, The White Oak Museum, despite its unassuming name that is perhaps reflective of D.P., has an overwhelming collection of Civil War artifacts that was reportedly appraised by The Smithsonian Institution in 1999 at 3.8 million dollars. The dug collection is a sea of soldier-life items, principally from the Federal Army of the Potomac’s 1862-63 winter encampment, a 35-mile-long, log-hut city, where 120,000 troops lived for over four months and generated a great deal of debris that was left behind when the army moved. D.P. Newton, along with many others in the area, joined the post World War II mine-detecting craze, unearthing a mass of artifacts from Civil War encampments and battlefields. Many “diggers” viewed him as having a gifted talent for finding treasures from the War. Although relic hunters often sold their riches, D.P. never sold an item; however, he would give relics away occasionally. I first met D.P. Newton on May 11, 1998, when National Park Service Cultural Resources Manager, Noel Harrison, invited me to accompany him and NPS historian John Hennessy to meet the well-known, yet mysterious, man from White Oak. If we would judge one first by their appearance, D.P.’s shyness and simple demeanor would make many think that he appeared to be slower than most. On the contrary; looks are deceiving. D.P. Newton had the brain of a truly gifted human being. His encyclopedic mind was jaw-dropping to see at work. D. P. Newton was hypnotic to watch and listen to. He was authentic and homespun, humble, and mannered; adding to this image was his rich Virginia Tidewater accent. D.P. seemed to be more from another time than anyone I ever met. D.P.’s museum is most impressive; certainly the most impactful historic site I ever stepped foot in. The museum was warm and welcoming, yet had an intense focus, and mixed with a sensory overload of massed Civil War items. The magnitude of all the dug bottles, buckles, buttons, bullets, pipes, shoes, plus soldier art, exhibits on Confederate items, engineering tools, corduroy roads, artifacts from “the punch bowl”, several full-scale in-door and out-door winter huts, and a handmade full-scale cannon accelerated your pulse. There are so many impressive items that trigger further thought, from the mundane mustard bottle, to false teeth, to an unidentified gold ring from, of all regiments, the 20th Maine. Not only was the White Oak Museum stuffed with relics from the soil of Stafford County, it was also a huge resource for the written word from the soldiers who lived and fought there. D.P. amassed a huge database regarding the tremendous events that transpired in Stafford County during the Civil War. As my National Park Service friends and I left White Oak after our first visit, John Hennessy said, “I am not sure what is more impressive, the museum or the man.” John was onto something. However, over a little time you realized, as much as the White Oak Museum was an amazing historical anomaly, the man was bigger and more inspiring than his creation. My virgin voyage to the White Oak Museum and meeting D.P. was a watershed moment in my life. There was life before meeting D.P. Newton and life after meeting him; many who have met this soft-spoken country genius often have had the same experience. Immediately after meeting D.P., I was transfixed; he was a graceful figure that was truly rare. Ego and vanity were the furthest things from his soul. He was somewhat of a cultural apostle. I would often affectionately joke to my Civil War friends that, like Jesus, D.P. Newton was a fisherman and a carpenter. Mr. Newton had an enviable work ethic; akin to the famous Nike commercial;. D.P. “Just Did It”. I wanted to be more like him the moment I met him; he was truly inspirational. Often I would visit the White Oak Museum and walk in to see D.P. answering esoteric questions thrown at him by visitors looking for their Civil War ancestor’s campsite, etc. His genteel slow response was calming and needed in an all-too-often fast-paced world. Time slowed down at the White Oak Museum and it made me thankful for such rare sanctuaries. Visiting DP at the museum was cathartic; it had something that was genuine and hospitable that I craved. D.P. didn’t talk much, but acted often. A huge part of D.P.’s awe-inspiring life was his focus and quiet determination to build a museum that promoted the history of Stafford County and the neighboring Fredericksburg, Va., area. I have been to the White Oak Museum probably 50 times, never growing tired of it. Part of the excitement of returning to White Oak and D.P. was to bring a guest who you knew could appreciate the sage and the place. Watching their excitement as they witnessed the overwhelming collection for their first time was always part of the joy of going to see D.P. and the museum. Public history academics and museology scholars have looked at D.P.’s efforts at The White Oak Museum with a great deal of respect and awe. Far too often there has been a divide between archaeologists and relic hunters, but D.P. clearly bridged that gap. His curiosity and modest demeanor might be seen in one vignette many of his friends have. When reenactors camping at the museum’s outdoor huts accidentally set fire to one shebang, they panicked, but D.P. only commented that he wished he’d been there to see it burn, just so he could add to his understanding of the burnt hut sites he excavated. D.P.’s funeral service was conducted in a school auditorium in Stafford where the crowd reached into the several thousands. His casket was draped in a Virginia flag. Various friends and family spoke about the gifted sage of White Oak, with not a dry eye in the crowd. The acclaimed field music of the 2nd Maryland Fifes and Drums, CSA, played D.P.’s favorite music at the auditorium and later at the nearby cemetery. Police agencies attended in massive force.

At the cemetery, on the Second Fredericksburg battlefield, as the 2nd Maryland Fifes and Drums played The Yellow Rose of Texas, Stonewall Jackson’s Way, and Dixie, I looked at D.P.’s Virginia flag-draped coffin, staring at the words “Sic Semper Tyrannis;” realizing the sage was really gone, I wept like a child. Perhaps it is ironic that D.P. Newton—The Sage of White Oak, Va., a candle in an electric world had as his final statement, that his 4.5-mile long funeral procession along the Jefferson Davis Highway stopped Fredericksburg traffic for tens of minutes, a nearly impossible Herculean task! The people I feel truly sad for are the ones who never had the opportunity to meet D. P. Newton.