Fowler's attempts to save what's left of the Civil War fortification, the only place in Rome where serious gunfire was actually exchanged during that conflict, has some remarkable similarities to that war itself. In fact, Fowler's strategies bear an uncanny resemblance to those of Confederate Gen. Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, who believed a good offense was the best defense.

After a long period of trying to negotiate a way out of having the northern face of the hillside fort carved away for a new railroad bridge, in turn necessitated by the pending widening of U.S. 27 (Martha Berry Boulevard), an accommodation failed to be reached, as it did when the North and South tried to find a peaceful resolution.

AS RESULT, Fowler has "made a federal case out of it" by filing lawsuits laced with constant motions and barrages of supporting paperwork. In a day when most citizens appear reluctant to fight City Hall, Fowler is taking on the Federal Highway Commission and the Georgia Department of Transportation, among others.

Fowler most recently requested an injunction against the pending bridge work until his main suit could be heard, a situation greatly assisted by the state having failed to receive a suitable bid on the highway work, mainly because of high estimates on the bridge relocation.

He's also pointed out - correctly, by the way - that the bridge itself is a historic site, having served Rome at the same location since 1869. This was confirmed by Helen Talley-McRae of the Georgia Historic Preservation Division who said, "We knew about the railroad bridge before they even found Fort Attaway." The bridge may also be historic, by the way, because barely remaining legible on one of its abutments is a painted sign reading "This is Wallace country!"

FOWLER VERY MUCH appears to be following some of the dictums of Jackson, who many students of the Civil War believe might have won the war for the South had he lived (Gen. Robert E. Lee's strong right arm, he was accidentally killed by his own troops while, as usual, being right in the midst of things).

Told by one of his officers at the First Battle of Bull Run that his troops were being beaten back, Jackson responded: "Then, sir, we will give them the bayonet!"

Fowler's salvo of legal paperwork may be the modern implementation of Jackson's "Once you get them running, you stay right on top of them, and that way a small force can defeat a large one every time."

While, except to Fowler and his friends, this may appear a relative sideshow to the big tent of Greater Rome's public issues, an added dimension of it recently appeared. It indicates that there's more at stake than simply preserving the somewhat scant remains of an old Civil War battlefield.

THE GEORGIA Battlefield Association recently spent a day touring Rome, including the sites of Fort Norton (also in need of more active preservation work), Fort Stovall (long since gone beneath Myrtle Hill Cemetery) and Fort Attaway. The trip was led by Ed Bearss, the chief historian emeritus of the National Park Service who is considered the nation's top historical tour guide.

Charles J. Crawford, president of the association, appeared most impressed and high in his praise of what Rome has to offer Civil War buffs. "Even though our group consisted of people already interested in and knowledgeable about the Civil War," he said, "many of them were surprised to learn of Rome's rich history and characterized the city as an overlooked gem."

Gems that fall out of their mounting, or forts - and railroad bridges - that disappear from view, adversely affect such luster and, let's face it, what is thus lost can then never again be restored.

Tourism, and particularly that of a day's duration or longer, is one of Rome's most underdeveloped "industries." Rome must retain, and then develop and enhance, all those surviving sites that can turn the city into a "destination."

THE TRICK is never to lose ground. Stonewall Jackson said that, too: "My troops may fail to take a position, but are never driven from one!"