The Irish Posted by Courtney on May 02, 1998 at 20:59:37:
If anything has continued down through the ages, it has to be the undauntable spirit of the Irish revolutionaries. The blood of the very first person killed 800 years ago grew seeds, and from those seeds grew another revolutionary, and another, and another...
You see the Irish never give up! This is because they have a cause they are willing to die for. A father passes this belief on to his son who passes it to his son, and so on. The ghosts of Wolfe Tone and James Connolly still ride through the hills, filling the children with dreams of a Republic and freedom.
Freedom is just the most important thing. That is what will never die. No matter how many tanks or guns the opposition has, they can never break the spirit of freedom. A man who has freedom in his heart is like a horse with blinkers: he sees nothing but his goal. And if he should die along the way, his comrades will continue where he left off.
Another thing that keeps them going is the memory of their fallen brothers. The Irish always remember their heroes. A true Irish patriot never dies. The memory of those who have fallen on the path to freedom make the desire for freedom even stronger.
To put it simply, that is why "The Troubles" will never end. It goes from the past to the present to the future like a piece of lead to the bottom of a lake. Cries of "saoirse" are now cries of "freedom". Pearse and Collins still fight the Brits, only under different names. Parnell's voice can still be heard ringing in that of Gerry Adams. And if you looked into the eyes of Mick O'Brien in Portlaoise Goal you would see the same fire that was in the eyes of Bobby Sands in the H-Blocks of Long Kesh which is the same fire that was in the eyes of Sean McDermott in Kilmainham.
You see, the fire never goes out and the heroes never die. The Irish spirit of resistance is as timeless as the oceans and the rocks. It may end though...one day. The British will have to leave. It's like trying to hold back a flood with a dam. The water will always be pushing on it. Eventually it will bust. The water will never cease to try to get by, just as the Irish will never cease to fight. And so the echoes of days long past still ring bright and true today.
It reminds of something I read once. If you have two pitchforks of the same pitch and you strike one, the other will begin to vibrate when the sound waves hit it. That really sums up everything. The first pitchfork is all the old Irish martyrs, and the second fork is the bright-eyed youth of today. The waves are the unquenchable spirit of freedom, and the space in which they travel through is time. Undauntable. Echoing through the ages as clear as when it began. Memories of yesterday in the dreams of today.
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