My Horse Thievin Roots

.

If you ever wondered how my father my son and I have all made our living in the car business it may well be our horse thieving roots. My 3rd Great Grand Father was Richard “Dalmore” (the name according to his tombstone) was born on Christmas day in County Dunnagall, Ulster, Ireland. Over the years as I have studied our ancestry and the amazing stories like these I truly sit in awe of how God used such events to advance His Kingdom, if we only knew the whole story or perhaps some day we will, I can only imagine.

.

Richard’s family was one of the peasant Scottish families brought over to work the Ulster Plantation. This Plantation was King James VI’s attempt to both appease the Scotts and reduce the friction in Ulster, (Northern Ireland). Needless to say this impacted my forefathers tremendously as the situation in Ulster was ripe for trouble, a magnet of some kind for Dilmores I would guess.

.

Richard’s father, William himself was a tall gangly Scotsman with hardened features from years of picking and planting in the sun and try as he might William was rarely involved in young Richard’s life because of the tireless plantation work of the peasant class of Scot he was. Yet there was the shrouded glen on the river Erne, there William would take young Richard every chance he could because he saw something of himself in Richard something secretly known only between William and his father. There in the glen was Richard’s time.

.

William like any Dilmore you would ever meet seemed to have a temper that would come from nowhere and take your head off but then regained composure about as fast. William did find a special time with all his five of his children. During the older brother John’s time young Richard would hear the whine of bag pipes from clear over by the ruins of Ballyshannon Castle. Richard couldn’t help but tease his brother, “Do you know where that sheep’s bladder has been before you go a blowin on it?”

.

Michael, the youngest was special, in today’s medical terms he was autistic, back then they called him an Idiot Savant. Laughed at by most of the town folk, Michael didn’t seem to mind but Richard did. Michael sported the most amazing Scottish red hair and beard you would ever set eyes on, arms out always moving forward, Michael loved to be touched and quicker with a hug than the usual Scottish hospitality. During Michael’s set time with his father they would go out to the barn. Richard, John and Christian wondered at all the clanking and hammering. When Michael immerged he would tell him, “Whirl, Whirl, Whirl, Father, turn, turn” over and over again with a finger motion.

.

The oldest sibling, Richard’s sister Mary loved her Scottish prim roses brought over from Scotland by William’s mother, Margaret. Special also to William as a memory of his mother and his love of the soil, there in the garden, father and daughter shared this love of the flora of Northern Ireland.

.

Perhaps the sibling that shared the greatest of William’s loves was, Christian. William had as his prize possession a Gaelic Book of the Bible; “The Revelation of St. John”, the last book in the Bible and William had it in his native tongue. In that day for a peasant to own a piece of the scriptures was a big enough deal but to have in Gaelic was a treasure, and through it William would meet Jesus every morning as he ingested every letter of his Gaelic scripture. William seeing Christian’s spiritual reception loved to share his treasure with the son whose name reflected both his heart and the family’s Congregational underpinning.

.

Years after Richard and Christian were sent to the penal colonies in America; Christian told Richard the secret of his father’s efforts to have a unique time and special place for each of his children. Christian recalled, “Father had read in his Book of Revelation about the hidden manna in the second chapter and how we were to receive a new name that only we would share with Jesus. So father was sharing his hidden manna the things that gave him life with each of us, to each the interest we would show to the thing Father liked. As, in your case Richard yours was down at shrouded glen on the river Erne. I don’t know what you did down there with father but I know you often came back with a mess of trout.”

.

Richard nearly erupted, “Yes, now I understand why Father always told me to keep it a secret between me and him, both the exact place and how we caught them. He had a special nick name for me as well that he only used when we were fishing. Was that to do with my new name?”

.

Christian responded, “Yes he had one for me as well only known to father and I.”

.

William worked hard but was also a man of many passions and each of his children reflected a unique piece of their father. William’s wife, also a Mary wore the crown of joy like no other woman in County Dunnagall for good reason her husband loved and adored her. Mary was so child like herself that her children couldn’t get enough of her. An oddly short woman to the gangly William and they were quite a sight walking the path together hand in hand.

,

All this joy and love was more than tiresome to the wealthy land owner, Henry Galloway. Henry Galloway would have reminded you of fancy folks from around the time of the American Revolution in his Waist Coat and Breeches and ruffled shirt. Although he dressed like a fine gentleman, his wrinkled face and ugly scowl demonstrated the real character. In fact Henry despised William, and his family, thinking “what could this mere peasant with no property, no name, no position, and an idiot son possibly be so happy about all the time, that boy is maddening and that wife of his looks like some kind of midget?” the more Henry thought about it the angrier and spiteful he got.

.

Once when Michael, (the autistic son) was out in the field working with his father, a coach drove up to where they were working. It was Henry Galloway himself in his fine Scottish coach with all the attendants. Infuriated that William would have Michael out there working, Henry shouted out, “What the hell are you doing having that Idiot out in my fields?”

.

William realizing what was about to happen tried to reach Michael to get his hand over his mouth, but it was too late. “Daddy that man said hellll, Daddy that man said hell!” Now Henry Galloway was not only furious but livid and animated…“You get that idiot out off my land or I’ll have you in the stocks, if I ever lay eyes on that boy again you’ll never work this land again, do you hear me?”, Shouted Henry Galloway.”

.

William answered, “Yes sir!” and scurried Michael off to a family meeting of what to do next.

.

Before the family could begin their meeting however, The Robert Emmet Irish rebellion of 1803 broke out, Scotts running everywhere shouting to arms to arms the rebels are coming. Needless to say the Irish rebels were reportedly vicious to the Scotts, their Pike men left a bloody trail and the fear they were coming to County Dunnagall caused panic in the streets.

.

This fear that ravaged the country side had no effect on Michael although any agitation would usually set Michael off on a spree; almost miraculously Michael was as calm as the family had ever seen him.

.

An Irish rebel force of what looked like about eighty marched within a quarter mile of the Dalmore’s home, burning everything in their wake. The family watched as a Scottish led Dragoon Calvary of about nine was quickly slaughtered by the advancing rebels. The main weapon of the Irish rebels was a long stick with a metal top called the pike. It was sharp and could cut the reins of horses. The pike was quite useful against cavalry, and the rebels made quick work of those Dragoons.

.

By now dozens of peasants were fleeing with the Dalmore’s home in the path of what appeared to be mass chaos and destruction. Strangely, Michael started yelling turn, turn, turn and headed for the barn, William went after him. Moments later they all saw what father and Michael had been doing in the barn all these years. A giant contraption with ten foot blades whirling, the rest of them had no idea at the time but Michael and William had been inventing a reaper of there own similar to the ones on the early agricultural revolution.

.

Michael yelling Turn, Turn, Turn, the forward momentum of the reaper turned those blades as Father yelled for the rest of the family to come and help push.

.

While most were retreating from the on coming Irish rebels the Dalmore’s were charging with their hopefully “Grim Reaper” against the Irish and their pikes. A few brave Scots joined them as they charged the enemy with the “Grim Reaper” whirring. As they got close the Irish broke ranks some fled, others tried to attack the Scots from the rear. Michael was the first to be stabbed, right in his left shoulder and as his father tried to load him on the Reaper to safety they stabbed William in the leg.

.

Both immediately fell to the ground easy pray for the Irish pikes it appeared when from nowhere about fifty Royal Dragoons charged the Irish from the rear as well. The Irish caught in the middle soon ran or died where they stood. Yet Michael and William were left bleeding badly on the ground desperately in need of help.

.

Mary screamed to John, Richard and Christian to go for help. Running for the village they found no one there all had fled from the Irish. Tied to a rail were three of Henry Galloway’s horses, desperate for help and no one to ask to borrow them, they made a fateful decision that changed the course of our family’s history, they took them and headed for Londonderry.

.

They did bring back a doctor back and Michael and William although hurt badly were going to be on the mend.

.

Yet, as you may have guessed waiting with the constable for their return was Henry Galloway who made quick work of prosecuting all three. Within weeks all three were exiled to America to join the Chemung canal digging convict workers of New York. Ironically Richard’s son Thomas my 2nd great grand father was the constable of Veteran, New York where Richard’s family settled.

.

Now the stuff of legend, (perhaps more so after this), Richard Dalmore’s horse thieving was God’s way of getting us started here in America,perhaps. I should say this story was a historical fiction based on events of the time and the family legend that Richard was a horse thief in Ireland, the names were real Dilmores or Dalmores of the time. As of today Richard has had nearly 175 direct American born descendants and more coming every year. That’s a whole lot of bad tempered tall gangly God lovin folks who all have their own hidden place in their Heavenly Father’s Heart where they feed on that life giving hidden manna and Jesus gives them a name other than Dilmore known only to the one who receives it.

.

As a husband, father, brother, and son, I’m not sure about any other of my final arrangements, but I am sure of this.

I am quite convinced that I have had a very special place in the Heart of Jesus: a place that only He and I know; a place where He has shared things of amazing intimacy with me. It is my most sincere hope that I have and will reflect those revelations to everyone in my life.  If I never talked about them, they are either there in my Bible, my journals, or stories that I have written or shared on the air.

Please feel free to look, share and wonder at any glimpse of God they provide. This will bring me such joy because these are so much “my life”, what made it so worth while.

 The reason I am saying this now is that I feel there may come a time when God will use these in your life to draw you again into that place of your own, into His heart where only you can go. If you search your heart  you will find your place, it’s there isn’t it, you kinda always knew that didn’t you.

Go there!  Go often if not always. He will share such a light, such a fragrance, and such beauty, that you will bloom in ways unimaginable in His Garden. Please, please take your place that only you can, because you can see things of God others can’t, things I can’t see.These are yours. They were made only for you. Once you have discovered them you get to reveal them to the world through the gifts He has given you. It will be amazing to see, perhaps in word or music, art or story, acting or business, teaching or everyday labor. You can and will reflect them for everyone to see the beauty in His Garden, essentially His Glory.

So please don’t bury my treasure. My delight will be in it finding a place in anyone’s heart, so  there it will become heavenly treasure. Yes, I can take it with me, but only if those I love, and that includes you, can see Jesus as only I could .Then you can see Jesus as only you can and further that those you love would also join us by your reflection. This will be His Kingdom Garden.  In that Garden we will eat fruits of the Tree of Life  that I believe will taste uniquely yours.Through the sharing and joy of this experience we will all see so much more broadly and beyond our own perspective the wonder of our God.