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MACKENZIE |
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by Chris Poh
 The
Friday afternoon before Easter finds me not sitting in my usual chair.
The regularly scheduled mix of political banter and folk music at WDVR
FM has been preempted by a bit of
dated radio drama depicting those events that fueled Christian beliefs.
At least my left flank is still guarded by my good friend, producer,
co-host and creative director of this publication, Ed Petersen. it is
his recommendation that has brought me to the BRAVEHEART
HIGHLAND PUB.
 Between pints of Belhaven
Scottish Ale we are
escorted on a tour of
this fine establishment by Robbie, the manager who has found his way to
Hellertown, Pennsylvania by way of Manchester, England and Ayrshire in
Scotland. I am very
impressed by this structure. For a new pub attempting to capture the
spirit and look of the land of William Wallace and Robert Burns, it has
not given into the temptation to
overdo the theme, as so often is the case with most American
attempts to recreate the UK or Irish public house experience. The
building is a good balance of historic renovation, local craftsmanship
and Caledonian authenticity.
Braveheart
Bar
Inviting Interior
 The Saturday afternoon before
Easter finds me
back
on the same stool I
had warmed twenty-four hours earlier. This time my wife, Fran is riding
shotgun. She shares a similar appreciation for Belhaven. Once more,
Robbie is on the floor with Kenny, a mate who has found employment via
a similar journey to the states. As Fran and I raise our glasses, we
recall the acquaintance of another young Scotsman who had come to these
shores in hope of acquiring his piece of the American dream.
We met Scott Mackenzie at Buskers, an Irish tavern in Newport, Rhode
Island. He had arrived earlier that day with nothing more than his
wits,
a few dollars, and the promised position of caddy at an upper
crust golf course affiliated with his club back home in
Inverness. My wife and I adopted this wandering Jacobite for the better
part of that day. We provided comfort, counsel, contacts, a few pints,
and a motor yacht tour of Narragansett Bay. At the close of the evening
we entrusted Scott to the care of a local girl who seemed intent on
looking after his wellbeing.
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The
Thistle is a Symbol of Scotland
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William Wallace
Robert the Bruce
  While we've never had the chance to share the
finer details of Scott's
time abroad, there have been messages of thanks and well wishes from
Inverness. On one return call, I was able to speak with the matriarch
of the Mackenzie clan. She thanked Fran and I for looking after her
son, who was unable to take my call because he had already gone down to
the pub.
When I think of Scott, I remember the countless young men whom I've
known and worked with over the years; men who by fortune or misfortune
have broken ties and crossed borders in order to share in the bounty
that is America. In most instances, I have no knowledge of how their
aspirations played out. There have been no calls from other countries,
or words of appreciation from grateful relatives. There are just
memories of generous and hard working souls from other lands that have
enriched my life, and I believe have enriched the life of this
nation.
Reminders of The Old Sod
 We are now engaged
in a debate to determine the
status of many of these
people. One can easily argue the merits of both sides' point of
view; but we must not lose sight of the simple truth that the status of
a man is not the measure of the man. What is to be deemed legal
or illegal is largely determined by the whims of policy makers and the
pens of politicians.
The vast majority of those who cross oceans or step
over
borders do so for the same reasons that have always driven men to seek
a better life. Like others who have gone before them, they will be
called invaders and interlopers by those who seek to protect the
sovereignty of their own established territory.
I can respect the resolve of either side, but in this instance I choose
to toast those intrepid individuals that risk the journey. I raise a
glass to Brave Mackenzie.
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