From our Highland Friends...

Dear Bonnie Prince Charlie,

Thank you so much for the opportunity to share in such wonderful company. I feel comfortable and. . .well, loved. I know the expectations that are ever present and I am glad for it. My heart is always light yet full of good things to think and ponder.

Most of my friends are with the WMH family and I wouldn't know what to do if I couldn't see them or talk to them every month or so. My family feels the same way. My brother and sister love coming to the balls and having a good time even though I don't think they truly realize just how good it is for them! They probably don't fully understand what's happening and what it's doing for them long term. We owe that to you and your family's hard work and loving efforts. Thank you.

My thoughts in regards to the ball: I missed so many people and was glad to see all of them. After traveling this summer I felt like I hadn't seen them all in years. I missed them so much. I think now on what our relationships were last year and it absolutely astounds me! To think I hardly knew any of them. They were hardly acquaintances and now they are my friends. Wonderful, loving, kind, God-fearing, people with hearts yearning for knowledge and good human behavior. A dream for a better society and better people. To wish the whole world saved and following Christ. What a comfort, what a joy! God bless you and all those who would wish and pray for such a goal. My heart is full of contentment and peace, my head is full of memories and happy thoughts. I can't wait to see everyone at the Pride and Prejudice ball and gain so many more memories.

Again, thank you for a good time, for happy memories, for good fellowship, and kind hearts with the love of Jesus Christ. May God bless you and your family, for all the hard work you do and for the goodness and beauty your provide.

Your Friend and Sister in Christ,

Tiyrah "Dee Dee"

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Dear Sir Bonnie

What a wonderful time! It's hard to put it into words what goes through our hearts. Words don't make justice. We were happy to hear that The Highland Weekend was going to take place in Flagstaff, since we love that town.

Am I glad we went!!!

We loved the Ball so much, we still talk about it. Everything was so beautiful and well put together, we loved every minute of it. You surely exceed our expectations. Thank you. We know a lot of thought and work goes into these Balls.

Sunday was so nice. The breakfast with lovely faces. The meeting, the "real church" in our opinion, with everyone giving God the glory and praise for His wonderful work in our lives. The love and unity in prayer for the needs expressed. The presence of the Lord was so tangible. We witnessed God's move in some lives. What a wonderful time. We surely look forward for more times like this.

The picnic was so enjoyable. We had the opportunity to meet with other beautiful Christians, watch men playing football in skirts, ha, ha, ha, and just be emotionally nourished by so much beauty and the peace of the Lord. God is so good.

The time spent with you was so lovely. You surely have a wonderful family. Your sweet wife is so gracious and kind, a real lady. May the Lord always bless her with strength to keep fulfilling her role as mother and wife and more.

We so appreciate all you are doing. As we said before, you make it look easy, but we acknowledge it takes a lot of preparation and work. You have a beautiful gift and vision. May the Lord grant you strength, focus in times of discouragement (those do exist) and to be joyful at all times.

Enough said for today. We just wanted to tell you how much we appreciate your work.

Yours sincerely

Clan Lacy of Howth

Of Clan Phoenix

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Dear Bonnie Prince Charlie and Family,

I just wanted to thank you for yet another smashing success! I had a wonderful time. The Bonnie Prince is a wonderful dancer and I truly enjoyed our reel.

Although I was too tired to stay up to the wee hours of the morn, I did enjoy the time I spent in the hotel lobby visiting with friends. Likewise, breakfast was a treat I wouldn't have given up for anything. I especially enjoyed playing with young Grace, the youngest Highlander there.

I also enjoyed my chance to reclaim my "undefeated" status at lawn bowling. Your daughter Holly and some of her friends played several games with me.

Thank you for all the work you put into the ball. I truly had a wonderful time! See you in October!

~Miss Alia

Clan Prescott

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Dear Lord Scott,

Thank you for the amazing time I had at my first Highland Ball. If was fun seeing everybody dressed up in their Scottish attire, and I had a great time learning all the latest highland dances, like the jig and the reel. It was a great evening of dancing and fellowship where I got to strengthen relationships with my friends and make new ones. It was an evening I won't soon forget.

I also had a great time playing football in the park. It was the best football game that I've ever played in a kilt. The battle was quite fierce between The Scots and The Lord Scotts, and both teams had great defense and strategy. Thank you for your hospitality and helping to make it an awesome weekend. See you at the Pride and Prejudice Ball.

God Bless,

Josh S. (aka Zack)

Clan Prescott

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Dear Bonnie Prince Charley and Flora MacDonald...

Many people will write many words about the Highland Weekend, but one word will be remembered above others:

HUZZAH!

Thank You and God Bless You for a weekend full of joy and kind words -- especially on Sunday morning. I feel so blessed to be a part of the We Make History family and our mutual mission to inspire and uplift others.

Your Friend and Humble Servant,
Christopher
Clan Tucson

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Going to the Highland Ball and Picnic was the absolute best thing I could have done with my time... God knew. :) I thank God for you.

Blessings,

A Refreshed, Encouraged Miss Martha
Clan Bisbee

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Lord Scott,

Our family wanted to thank you for a wonderful evening on Saturday night. Very special, my girls will remember forever. Jaci enjoyed seeing and talking to Lady Scott as well. Thanks again.

Robert N.

Clan Flagstaff

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Dear Lord Scott and Family,
I can't tell you how much enjoyment I got out of the latest Highland Ball. The music, dancing, and costumes were all perfect for a thrilling evening! I Thank you from the bottom of my heart! God bless you and yours!
~Kayla Rose

Clan Prescott

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Dear Lord & Lady Scott,

Thank you again for hosting a wonderful weekend. The climate change was a welcome change, but the new friends I made and the friends I had the chance to meet with were an even more welcome change of pace. The picnic on Sunday was also quite fun and made me start thinking that perhaps we could start having picnics the Sunday after some other WMH balls in the Valley (during the cooler months, of course). As always, it was a real treat, and I look forward to the next ball.

Sincerely,

Pvt. Reddy

79th New York Regiment of Foot

Clan Gilbert

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Bonnie Prince Charlie – I would like to thank you and Flora MacDonald for hosting another memorable Ball. I have never seen such a finely attired group of Scotsmen and women. Everyone should be proud of themselves for their contribution to the evening!

May the good Lord bless you for all of your efforts to bring history to life and hosting these historical balls with all of these wonderful people. As you said, I would have never met these wonderful people if these balls had not occurred. My only disappointment from the evening was not getting to recite a historical question . . . not that I wanted a prize, I just wanted to exhibit my knowledge of Scottish history (and the fact that I had read your instructions prior to attending the ball) and state one of the two the two historical facts that I had memorized for the contingency.

I Remain.

Your Humble and Grateful Servant,

Mike C.

Clan Glendale

PS Did you see in the charges the ferocity of the Highland women compared to the men!! If that does not put the fear in the Red Coats, I do not know what will.

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Dear Lord Scott,

My memories of the Ball weekend are most distinctly, the beautiful service Sunday morning. The brief time of fellowship - that much needed "gathering together of brethren" that has been much neglected by me lately - was... oh, I can't find words to describe it. Heaven-sent, God-decreed...? My thirsty soul found refreshment just being in the company of Christ's family.

That... and waltzing with William Wallace. Braveheart can dance! :-D I think you're not exaggerating in saying this may have been the best Ball yet... though I warrant the 1861 Remembrance Ball last Spring is in close competition with it. I appreciate deeply how much WMH has grown and how things have become so polished in the last year or so. The Balls are much more relaxed in pace now - crucial to someone like me who can dance a few but then must sit out one now and again, or else not last through the evening. Victorian women must have had outstanding capacity for physical endurance!!!

Blessings,

Lady Abigail Kinkade,

The Duchess of Hereford

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The event was wonderful. You have done a magnificent job. Keep up the good work. By the way,
you are exactly right in your description of how the church should be. It is really quite a simple recipe.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.
Joe and Suzy K. Clan Prescott

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Highland Fling

Great Scot! An entire weekend of merriment hosted by Bonnie Prince Charlie, Flora MacDonald and the family of We Make History.

The clans are gathering on the lawn of Northern Arizona University’s Old Main on a clear, breezy August evening devoid of monsoon rain. But like mist drifting in from the sea, our numbers grow. We are Jacobites summoned by Bonnie Prince Charlie, wary of a sneak attack by the British.

Lads and lasses in kilts and tartan frocks flow onto the green under the pines. Clan Scottsdale and Clan Phoenix are here. Aha… Clan Wickenburg! Clan Flagstaff! Clan Wallace marches in with brave hearts. Clan Prescott joins us! I stand with Clan Southern Arizona in my red Royal Stewart tartan and sash. My highland shirt is one size bigger than necessary to ensure properly puffy sleeves. Royal Stewart ribbons jut from my kilt hose, filling out my trusty, ball-weathered buckle shoes. It’s ancestry-accurate on my father’s side. Not wanting to neglect Mother’s side of the family, I include a Cameron clan kilt pin, a tiny sword with a Gaelic inscription holding my sash together. And before you ask that question, be assured I’m taking appropriate defensive measures to protect my modesty.

I quickly see we are outnumbered, not in any military sense but in the lad-to-lass ratio. One clansman estimates 2:3 –- clearly encouraging math. Tomorrow, we march on London. Tonight, we march into the ballroom.

The Bonnie Prince calls us together, noting the British have failed to disrupt us, and leads the charge for the dance floor.

“Huzzah,” I say with gentlemanly restraint as we begin a silent march inside.

His Royal Highness wonders aloud where our enthusiasm is.

“HUZZAH!” I shout.

Ashurst Hall stands ready for the evening: wooden floors, tall windows, and Bonnie Prince Charlie’s Angels on stage, led by Madame Becky. It’s the best ballroom I’ve set foot in yet, and it’s a full house.

The Bonnie Prince and Flora MacDonald begin the procession, as we all turn back the clock in our heads and hearts, from 2006 to 1745 as some eighty of us parade around the room, two by two, lad and lass, smiles in our faces, getting into the highland spirit.

“Welcome, welcome!” His Royal Highness calls out to us as we pass by with a bow.
A mixer follows the procession... one, two, three, four... into the center... one two, three, four... back out. A turn to my partner, a bit of fancy footwork, a few other steps, and pass through to the next partner. Cinch. “Line up in sets,” comes the call for the next dance.

I’ve done it many times before, but seeking out a new partner still leaves me with a wee bit of trepidation. Couples take their places and the urgency builds. I know who I’m looking for -- a kind lass standing still on the floor, eyes searching. I approach a pair with such disposition.

“Are ye seekin’ a partner?” I ask with the best Scottish accent I’m capable of. She accepts the invitation, and I quickly honor her with a bow, which is quickly matched with a curtsy. I treasure these moments of respect.

A jig comes next, a time to show off some freestyle stepping. I decide to try a Highland Fling. It looks simple: one hand above your head, hopping with one foot back and forth behind your knee. I’ve researched it. I’ve practiced a little... well, as much as I can without bothering my downstairs neighbor... which isn’t much at all. I get out on the floor, cutting in as instructed and give it a try in front of a charming lass. I’m not going to win any highland dancing contests, but I’m satisfied it’s Scottish enough.

Everybody’s showing considerable dancing ability, especially on the reels. Just when I think I have them down, a new one comes along to challenge me.

It works like this on the floor: Madame Becky walks us through the figures in a dance. Then we do it. I can see we’re going to have a little trouble on this one.

It’s a twist on what I know as “stripping the willow.” The head couple’s lass swings down the line of lads, swinging her partner between others. The lad swings the line of lasses, swinging his own. Then lad and lass work their way back down the set again, swinging each other and the proper lines. A new head couple emerges, and we go through it again.

“Keep it reel,” the Bonnie Prince reminds us.

I’m so lost in the joy of the dance I have trouble remembering who swings who in what order. But partners joyously remind me. We clap in the line when we’re not swinging somebody. Some keep dancing and swinging after the music stops. I join an impromptu three-person reel in a corner. We’re all working up a considerable sweat. I’m glad that Highland shirt breathes.

“Ahhh, breeze,” I say as I cool down in front of those tall open windows, letting the nighttime winds replenish my spirit. I supplement it with a few cups of punch. Now comes something that probably came to Scotland by way of the Bahamas: the Pineapple Dance. Two lines of lads and lasses form in front of three chairs. Three people sit at the front, one in the middle with a pineapple. If you have the pineapple, you either pass it to the person sitting to the left or the right of you, and then chasse (a.k.a. sashay) down the lines with the other person not holding the pineapple. The pineapple person moves to the center chair, people from each line move forward to fill in the empty chairs, and the game continues. The idea is for lasses to chasse with lads and likewise, but the realities of ratios soon catch up. A few hearty lads chasse with lads to roaring applause.

Those chasses get wildly creative. We have the Strictly Ballroom style, twirling all the way down. We have the Highland Hoedown, with copious stomping. I find out soon I can’t get too fancy, because when I get to the end of the line, my buckle shoes slide at least two feet after the last leap. I nearly avoid ending up flat on my back with my kilt flipped up.

Now, let us give our feet a break and do some headwork. The prize drawing is upon us, albeit with a twist I recall from this gathering of pirates in Prescott. Books of Scotland, historic costume patterns, and Walker’s Shortbreads are up for grabs. But the Bonnie Prince hath decreed, you must be able to recite a fact Scottish, English, Irish or Welsh history, which includes “a name, a date and a specific place. Failure will mean a solo Highland Jig and a decision by the gathered clans as to whether ye may claim your prize!”

I have a fact ready, but I don’t get to use it. Several names are called. A few have done their homework. Many have not.

“Fiddler!”

And so many jig in front of clans for ten seconds. Perchance they would rather dance? They perform admirably.

“HUZZAH!” I shout over and over again. Others pick up on the magic word and are repeating it after each dance now with hearty Highland fervor. We’re into our characters completely. My weak attempt at a Scottish accent is sounding more English than Scottish, but luckily, nobody accuses me of being a spy. And what loyal Englishman would attempt a Highland Fling anyway?

Still, I almost get into a scrap. Miss Becky asks for a volunteer to help her demonstrate a dance, and I step onto the floor. So does Robert The Bruce (aka Robert de Bruys). We are facing each other, Miss Becky to our sides.

“Duel! Duel!” a few clansmen egg on.

My rival playfully goes into his attack stance, importing some moves he picked up in the Far East. I assume my counter-stance with a few hand motions I picked up from Brigadoon. It’s going to be his Stewart-Jitsu versus my Highland-Kwan-Do. But before this showdown can even start, another clansman makes a sneak attack and steals the girl away. We stand too flabbergasted to fight.

No matter where we travel on the timeline, we always have room for some waltzes, a chance for me to seek and share a moment of beauty with a lass. I keep the steps to a simple back-and-forth.

I ask a lot of names during the course of the evening, and sadly, I remember few. But I always remember these moments -- grace, class, friendship, and respect in three-quarter time. They make up for so much I wish I could forget from my younger days.

And happily, the last dance is not the last word. The meeting of the clans continues back in the hotel room lobby. We’re still stoked from the evening, and we have to keep reminding ourselves to keep the chatter down before we all get the order to disperse. What would be more humiliating: a defeat at Culloden or La Quinta Inn?

Highland Blessings

Morning finds us picking up where we left off, breaking bread with friends and nourishing our souls in a poolside prayer service.

This is where the deeper meaning of We Make History comes through, as we share what we are thankful for, how God has touched our lives, and who needs our prayers the most -- our families, our schools, our nation. All of us are inspired to be servants using the gifts and talents we have.

I am reluctant at first to share my story, preferring to let other voices carry. So many other voices deserve to be heard. But as I listen to others and their stories of challenge and fulfillment in their lives, I have to question my own and remind myself of the answer.

“I probably work in one of the most depressing professions,” I share, touching on the big picture of journalism. “At times I ask, why do I do this?”

Why do this, when my heart has been opened after twelve years of hardening in a high-stress, high-burnout job? But I stay, I explain, because I have a chance to affect change, to uplift others, and to show respect. Leadership means leading. In the final prayers, tears roll down my eyes -- tears of joy and thanksgiving, of feeling blessed as I ask for the guidance to make the right decisions. Several people offer their words of encouragement afterward.

The weekend of Highland merriment concludes with a picnic and touch football in kilts. Nobody gathers dust on the sidelines.

“I know we want to win, but we’re a team, and I want to get everybody involved,” the Bonnie Prince proclaims as we switch up positions, running every play in the book in a low scoring, 14-7, fabulously defensive game. Some of our teammates will be playing for the NFL one day -- no doubt about it.

I think back now to that final dance of the previous evening, the last waltz where we all started in a circle and then broke off into couples. The lass next to me was a bit unsure of her waltzing ability, and she politely declined to continue with me.

“It’s all right,” I tell her with a smile. “I understand.”

I seek out another lass in need of a partner. But this time, I find none.

A row of several lasses are still waltzing in a line from our circle. Do I join them, or do I go it alone?

For some reason, I decide to go it alone -- a solo Highland waltz on the edge of the dance floor, still hoping to find some lass in need of a waltzing partner.

Sometimes, all of us feel we are dancing alone in life. But we’re never really alone. Not as long as we can enjoy these nights of grace and honor and then slip back into our other lives and times with the grace within us, even if some of those surrounding us don’t understand what we’re all about.

So my first stop after returning from Flagstaff is at work, where I surprise the weekend newsroom staff in full tartan with some extra Highland Chocolate Chip cookies I baked for the picnic. My compatriots enthusiastically devour them with thanks to the kilted baker, and I am uplifted.

Yes, this is why I do this.