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Who will
shed a tear for Connel MacLear?
On Sunday my phone rang. My called ID said Kevin Bonnin.
Kevin was my reclusive neighbor when I lived in Okanogan. He
moved away almost 10 years ago to take a security job in Southern
California. Dalbach and I used to play RPGs (Dungeons and
Dragons) at his house. Kevin
continued to call around spring time every year. The phone calls
would be somewhat awkward because I no longer played RPGs and Kevin
wasn’t active in the SCA. He was introverted and
didn’t do much besides work at a casino watching security
monitors. Because he didn’t get out much he had very few
friends, but he was very loyal to the friends he did have. This
was the reason for the phone calls. I would talk about family
life and he of work life. Kevin would inquire
about the SCA and Dregate and we would reminisce about times like when
Dalbach and I talked him into being in Stalag 17 with when we
didn’t have enough cast to play German guards. That was a big
step for someone who didn’t like crowds and rarely left home
other than for work. Or the time he was working at the upper Pardners
when it was robbed. Someone came out of thbathroom and hit Kevin
from behind with a broomstick. He chased the robber out of
the store and to the
edge of the business property all the while bleeding from a head
wound. The robber didn’t even have time to take the beer he
was trying to steal. That was the kind of person Kevin was. When we
were done Kevin would often say how he would visit sometime when he was
back this way and that he intended to move back someday. We would
leave it at that and take up the conversation again the next year.
I heard from Dalbach several weeks ago that Kevin had purchased a
house. We now had something in common to talk about, the joys and
trials of home ownership. When I answered the phone it wasn’t
Kevin. It was his friend Steve who had employed Kevin. When the
Security
business dried up in Okanogan county, Kevin and Steve took jobs at the
casino and moved to California. Steve asked if I remembered
him and then said that he had bad news. Kevin had stayed home
from work sick and went to the doctor’s office. While there
he passed away. It was
the only sick day he had ever taken. Kevin was 44.
Why am I telling you this? Because Kevin Bonnin was also Connal
MacLear in the SCA. He was at our first meetings and was our
first branch herald. He was at our first events and helped with
our first Crown. He even helped with the infamous ‘fake
amber’ site tokens for Highland Fjord war. Some of you might
remember him wearing one of Dalbach’s first brown T-tunics and a
green martial arts belt at events. Even though he no longer
attended SCA events he still had all
of his Creakings and checked the Dregate website regularly.
Although he stayed in the background Kevin enjoyed being Connal MacLear.
Below is a song that Connal helped with some 14 odd years ago. It
was hardly performed because it is in a difficult range. But now
I find it fitting…
To Connal MacLear son of Dregate!
The Dreadgate Few
by Killian Carrick, Dalbach MacDara, and Connall MacLear
to the melody of Foggy Dew, traditional
As down the glen one April morn, to a city fair of eye,
They're Dreadgate's lines of marching men, in squadrons passed me by.
The pipes did hum, and battle drum did sound its loud adieu,
But the Valkyries fell over the enemies swell, among the Dreadgate few.
Quite proudly high over Dreadgate town they flung out the banner of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an An Tir sky than to flee our foes of yore.
And from the hills of the brush sage, strong men came roaring through,
While our enemies sons, one thousand and one charged at the Dreadgate
few.
'Tis the bane in black and the rattan crack made pathetic sounds and
reel,
And the arrows rain blocked out the sun did arch o'er the lines of
steel.
Our warriors bled and a prayer was said, and to Dreadgate, her sons be
true,
But when morning broke, the war banner shook, still guarded by the
Dreadgate few.
Oh the bravest fell and the tower bell rang mournfully and clear,
For those who died 'neath the An Tir sky, in the springtime of the year.
While the world did gaze with deep amaze, at those fearless men but few,
To stay and fight for their freedoms right, there stood the Dreadgate
few.
And through the glen they rode again, my heart with grief was so,
For I parted with those gallant men, who I'll never see no more.
But too and fro in my dreams I go, and I kneel and pray for you.
For soul has fled, our glorious dead,
when you fell with the Dreadgate few.
I’ll miss those awkward phone calls.
Cherish your friends!
Killian |
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