Reflections on Wallace...

I am of Celtic and German descent. Sadly, I was never really able to be close to any of my Grandparents. Not because of a lack of effort on my part. We lived apart and they just never really seemed like they wanted to connect and didn't put much into having any sort of relationship with me. I always felt an emptiness when it came to family- it's far too complicated to go into in this post- however, now I have a family of my own to enjoy.

I haven't researched my German heritage much. It's not a major part of who I am. Although my maiden name was German, my biggest influences genetically were of Scot-Irish origin. Culturally, I am more interested in my Gaelic roots. German history hits a sore spot for me. Not all Germans were Nazi's and some helped the victims of hatred, but I do feel that many were weak-minded and gullible to the rhetoric of Hitler and his death machine. I have great respect for Germans today- perhaps someday I will find an interest- for now I am content to study the other branches of my family tree.

I am one who believes it's important to know who and where you came from. Everyone needs a sense of belonging. As my children grew, they began asking questions for which I had no answers. This sparked a strong curiosity in me to know my heritage. So I began to investigate online and with the help of some relatives, found that I have a very rich and distinct background ethnically.
My Great Grandparents on my Dad's side were influential Irish Millers and fisherman who came to the US from Ireland just before the Potato Famine of the 1800's. Things did not go well for Francis and his family. There was quite a prejudice against the Irish here in America at the time and the environment was so hostile that my family actually returned to Donegal, North Ireland during the famine! 10 years or so later they returned, but this time, afraid of being mistreated they dropped the O' from their name and became Gallagher. (prounouced Gal-o-her in Ireland) The people at immigration pronounced the name with a hard 'g' in the middle and it stuck. They made a success of their lives here with their 11 children the second time around.

My Great-grandfather Campbell on my mother's side came from one of Scotland's biggest and most powerful clans. In fact Clan Campbell still holds several castles- including the beautiful 'Ivenaray'. I have obtained the family badge, crest and plaid. I am not royalty, but I come from good stock. I know this to be true as we recently attended the 'Highland Games' here in TN where I was able to connect with more of my heritage- which confirmed much of my research. Rob Roy Campbell MacGregor is a distant relative. A most interesting tidbit of information is that the great hero of the Scots, William Wallace had many Campbells at his side while turning the English out of Scotland and winning freedom from tyranny.

I finally had the courage to watch a movie about his life. I wept through much of it. How we humans abuse one another never ceases to shock me! I could identify very strongly with the passion and indignation that Wallace felt as he witnessed the cruel, unethical behavior of English Lords and the self-serving Scottish nobles who did their bidding. Wallace took a stand and people noticed. He was a unifying force who brought quarreling Scottish clans together in a common cause and even many Irish joined the cause. (The Irish were equally mistreated by the English during that time period.) Truly, it is a challenge to sort out fact from fiction with any legendary character, but Wallace is one of my heroes. He died just as nobly as he lived.
(If you are weak of stomach, don't read the next paragraph.... it's disturbing, but serves to illustrate why I was so deeply moved by the story....)

Wallace was betrayed by his own, beaten to unconsciousness and handed over to the Pagan, English King Edward I or 'Langshanks'. Quickly tried and found guilty of high treason, William was sentenced to die. However, they couldn't just take his life, they first hung him by the neck for several minutes, then dropped him down and asked him to claim Edward as his King. Wallace refused, remaining silent. They racked him by stretching his body with ropes against the weight of a draft horse, pulling his shoulders, wrists and hips out of socket. Then they dropped him down again asking him to recant his claims to freedom. Though many of the English present at the execution begged for mercy to be shown, the tormentors then laid him out on a table, disemboweled him & burned his organs before his eyes. All the while imploring him to acknowledge the King of Wales as his soveriegn lord. Wallace refused, nor did he cry out until the very end. They asked again if he would submit, to which he cried loudly with his last breath "Freeeeedom!" Wallace was then beheaded. His body was cut into pieces- each sent to different parts of England to be displayed. What detestable barbarism!! (It is to be condemned in any culture. Certainly Americans have done their share of the same in the unjust treatment of African slaves and Native Americans.)

I am inspired by courage and conviction in the face of death. Wallace wanted one thing for himself and for his people- Freedom. None of the Celts who died on Scottish fields loved their lives any less than we value ours- yet they gave. That is deserving of honor. The horrific death of William Wallace won over many of the enemy and was the battering ram Scotland needed to oust the English once and for all.

The whole story reminded me of another great Hero of mine- Jesus the Christ. He was also betrayed by His own, beaten beyond recognition and died a horrible death for the freedom of His people- not only from sin and death, but from religious tyranny. This kind of passion is not manufactured- it is a Divine gift and one that moves me to silence, how can I express the reverence I feel? It is the same deep stirring I felt while attending the deathbed of my mother-in-law, visiting the Vietnam memorial wall and walking the Gettysburg battlefields... an inutterable appreciation, an intense mourning for the loss of life.

God, we all die sooner or later. Don't let me be snuffed out quietly- never making a difference here. Let this fire You put in me also be used for something good...