The Portland Oregon Highland Games is an annual event which is held in Portland every summer. In 1999, the games were held July 17th and 18th, and were unique in that for the first time there was a two day International Dancing as well as Piping Competition.

The competitions were staged on the grounds and in the stadium and field house of the Mount Hood Community College Campus. South of the buildings is a grassy field of ten or more acres which was filled with vendors tents, as well as ten or so in the field house and many more clan tents on the playing field inside the track at the bottom of the stadium. Ample seating was available under cover in the stadium and in the bleachers on the far side. The volume of viewers was considerablly higher than the twenty plus thousand of the year before.

The second noteworthy experience was the selection of the Game's Chieftan. In this case, he was Piper John "Jock" Purves, a veteran of World War Two and a Piper for the Gordon's Regiment in Europe and North Africa. Jock flew from Scotland to act as Chieftan, and he won the hearts of all. He was accompanied by his son John, a Colonel of the Gurkahs Regiment and currently attached to NATO. Both Jock and John had been our guests back in the early 60's when Jock was Pipe Sgt. and instructor for the Tacoma Clan Gordon Pipe Band, and had brought them to Portland to participate in the Games then. Prior to Tacoma, Jock had instructed and played with the Powell River, British Columbia Band that won much recognition for its abilities.

Jock's wife Katernya had fallen and injured her back severly enough in Tacoma that it necessitated she and young John returning to Scotland for long treatment. Jock moved in with Joyce and I and our three sons and was treated as a member of the family while he continued his job in a paper mill and also continued with the Clan Gordon Band. They didn't have to outfit him in the Gordon plaid, he had his own.

To say our home "rocked" with partying clansmen would be the understatement of the ages. It was a wonderous experience for us and the band. I think everyone within a mile or so who just "dropped in" to see what was happening were welcomed. This encluded the Fort Lewis Soccer Team composed of all foriegn born kids from Europe, South America, Australia and New Zealanders and heaven only knows where else. All of us followed them to their games. We even had a East German Vopo Sgt. who laid out his Colonel and leaped across the Berlin Wall. The man that couldn't learn something worthwhile in conversation in our own home was numb indeed. Many was the tear of regret when we gathered to send Jock off by train to the ship waiting in New York. The good times last nae forever, but fond memories do.

I kept up correspondence with Jock and he kept urging that my wife Joyce, who was from Alberta, and I travel to Scotland. Unfortunately, that was never to be allowed by fate, but we have sent many a friend to Jock's place in our stead and he had enthraalled them all. Most passed the comment upon return, "I wish we had gone to see him and Kateryna at the start of the visit and not waited until the end."

Such was the situation when I found out my close friend, Lt. Colonel Michael Howard, USMCR, and family were enroute to Scotland. Mike is on the Portland Highland Games Commission and his daughter is a skilled dancer. (Disregard the name Howard, Mike's mother was Scottish). I insisted they contact Jock, and they did. Jock not only charmed them, he played the Pipes in a huge festurant in Edinburgh to allow Mike's daughter to dance. The crowd loved the entertainment. This was a "turn down the drone" trick Jock learned with us in the Bavarian Resturant in Tacoma years before. You couldn't get a seat with a pistol there and then. Ah the good times rolled.

Mike came home loaded with pictures and exuberance, and convinced the Highland Games Board to invite Jock over as the Chieftan for this special Game. Jock was trully floored by the honor being offered but felt his age and the fact that Kateryna had a serious heart condition requiring constant care seemed to combine to deny him the honor. With that, in stepped Colonel John Purves, his son, who volunteered to take a leave from his current NATO post and accompany his father and make sure he got here squared away.

Meanwhile John's wife Patricia came forth, stating she would take leave and take care of Jock's wife. Patricia and John are from the same village and both in the Army. Patricia is Brigider General Patricia Harris Purves. The very first female General in the British Army. She was wounded when shot in the shoulder by a sniper on the third attempt on her life as she sent in her NATO reports in Yugoslavia. They didn't like her reports. Both she and John received Medals at Buckingham Palace by the Queen. John had the Gurkah's in the Falkland Island scrape.

As a former Marine and State Police Officer, I was delighted when some of my Scottish Police Officers friends wished permission to Pipe Jock and John "aboard" at Portland International. Sounded good to me. They showed up with the entire Portalnd Police Pipe Band and the pipes skirled the minute they disembarked from the plane. Jock's jaw dropped in amazement and I had to direct him over to them as this was in HIS HONOR. He stood before the proudest group of pipers you would ever see. People in the concourse plugged up the passage way and stood in amusment as Jock flustered slightly in embarrasment. (Which he quickly got over and thanked them all).

That was the evening of July 12th. They flew out to Glasgow on the 27th, and in between it was a whirlwind of adventure for both. Young John captured most on film video, and my wife put together a photo album of still photos for them to take to their wives. The British Counsul enjoyed them so much he has invited Young John back for Robie Burns night on my wife's birthday, 25 January, 2000. She of course gives her permission.

The Games Committee took both in tow from the hot sunlight of our front porch the following day and started a round of luncheons, dinners, visits to historic and senic places, etc. It seemed every minute was a new experience and Jock survived without giving into exhaustion. Fact is, he seemed to love every minute of it. He even took the time to do something that young John said he had never seen his father do. He opened his collar, rolled up his sleeves and leaned back in a deck chair soaking up the hot sun's hot rays. He said he thought it would be nice to return home with "a wee suntan". And I understand he went throughout the village making sure everyone saw it when he got home. Perhaps their visit in Colonel Howard's care to the Marine Reserves prompted that sleeve rolling as the Marines roll their sleeves and open the collar on their duty uniforms.

The Marines went out of their way to entertain them. These Marines provide much to the Games success, from the opening Color Guard to the many field and track events they participate in, including the Tug of War (Won three straight years by the Abbotsford B.C. Police... "Wait 'til next year you Guys! "). The Marine response to the yearly Games is such that a Maine Corps Plaid has been placed on the market as well as a large silver Marine Corps emblem surrounded by the Garter; for the belt, their clan badges go on the bonnets. Amazing amount of Scottish patriotism amongst the Corps.

Jock's opening speech was short, to the point and tinged with his brand of pride and humor. The gathered mass loved it. He followed up by attending EVERY Dancing group, Pipers, Bands, Vendor's booth and "snowballed the heck out of the officials and many Ladies of Class, some of whom came all the way south from his previous abode in Canada and Tacoma to see him once again. Now that is class.

Before flying out, Jock repeated to me that "This had been the greatest honor of my life," and surely it was so. I am so proud to have contributed in some small way to that honor. It was both an admirable and unforgetable time that ended far too soon. I managed to bid him farewell and restrained the tear that blurred these old eyes until he was safely aboard the aircraft. I have known and been honored to meet many world reknowned influential people, but NONE supass this simple Piper from Bydand-Caberston Road- Walkerburn on the Tweed. If you stop in, tell him Art sent you. And Jock, play me once more " The Scottish Soldier---the Green Hills of Tirol." Nae Lament Jock.