When I arrived at Reeanctor Fest—”a convention for the ages!” held two weeks ago at the Westin Hotel in Wheeling for history buffs who like to dress the part—it was around lunchtime, midway through the exodus of hungry hobbyists to a nearby outpost of the Claim Jumper, a Gold Rush–themed family-restaurant chain. A Civil War band, Revolutionary War soldiers, women in intricate Victorian corsets, Vikings, Old West cowboys and members of the Early Roman army—all marched across the minivan-packed parking lot (reenactors lurv minivans) for mozzarella sticks and something called “Whiskey Chicken.” Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure came to mind.

Inside, the convention area smelled—inexplicably—like a campfire, and I couldn’t stop giggling at all the stupid (or, as the reenactor community likes to say, “creative”) anachronisms: A medieval knight in a full suit of armor using a urinal (probably not the best venue, I decided, to ask about the logistics of all that); an Ancient Greek guy checking Twitter; Abraham Lincoln,  stovepipe hat and all, struggling to drink from a water fountain; World War II German SS guys (who swore to me that they’re not, not, not—not!—neo-Nazis) broing down with G.I.s.  Anyway, you have to see it to believe it. Luckily, we have pics.

Photos: Andrew Nawrocki