A Hero’s Legacy

My last post, My Champion of Freedom, was a proclamation of the heroism my grandfather, James McAfee, displayed and my gratitude for his sacrifice. Although his story ended on a battlefield 75 years ago, his legacy was only beginning, and that is today’s story.

James was a McAfee, an ancient family born centuries ago on a small island of Scotland, but firmly rooted in southern Indiana in his generation. He was the firstborn of seven children, all raised during the Great Depression. Hard times disciplined his mind and body as he led his brothers and sisters.

A whirlwind of events saw him married at twenty years old to a lovely jewel of a young woman named Ruby who was three years younger than him. He was drafted into the Air Force within weeks of their wedding and swept off to pilot’s training in Arizona. While he was there, his first son was born back in Indiana. Separated by a seemingly infinite chasm, his heart cried out to hold his legacy, the son that would share his name. Weeks passed before he would get that chance.

While the military conditioned him to place duty, honor, and courage above his own life, he enjoyed an all too short season with his small family. Before his 2nd child was born, he was shipped off to a distant shore to defend our liberty. In a world that needed heroes, it didn’t take long for him to rise up (read the comments in the last post by Jonathan McAfee for that story). He was praised by generals who would become the free world’s leaders before giving his life to save his crew and his country.

Back home, a shattered teenage mother became a widow. Her overwhelming grief mixed with feelings of abandonment and betrayal that hardened into anger that she buried deep inside. Two sons needed her and left no time to unravel complex emotions. The war quickly ended and with it came a new husband and a third son. Old feelings were left unreconciled while the daily demands of life occupied her mind.

Her new husband embraced the two McAfee boys but left them their surname as a birthright. He then reenlisted in the military, and they began the transient life of a military family. The young boy who had been destined to become the clan leader of seven families left his ancestral home and moved across states and countries. They made frequent visits to visit family in southern Indiana, but the ties that had bound them there were gradually diminished as life moved on.

The young James was nicknamed Jim. He learned early that his mother did not want to talk about his birth father. The maelstrom of emotions never settled in her heart, and the boy felt her pain when he asked questions that unleashed all the hurt she had tried to leave behind. Raised in a Shryock family but still bearing the McAfee name, the child had so many questions, but the love and respect he held for his mother prevented him from pursuing answers.

Jim learned bits and pieces of his father’s story on the reunion trips, but most of the time was spent playing with the ever-expanding group of cousins. As the oldest, he was proud to be the biggest, fastest, and strongest. He longed to move back and be close to his cousins but learned not to talk about it out of loyalty to his mother.

The boy displayed the same courage in protecting his mother that his father had displayed in defending his country. Although he had questions about his father and his place among his people, he held them inside where they wouldn’t hurt the mother he loved. His uncertainty was a burden, but he was determined to carry it as long as his mom needed him to. As years passed and he grew to into a strong, young man, he honored her. He learned how to show his love without words.

The son of a hero who was born to lead his clan became a broken branch of the McAfee’s family tree. No matter how many returns he made to his ancestral home, he could not be fully embraced. His destiny now lay elsewhere.

His life on various military bases offered him education beyond anything he could have received in the small, rural town he was born into. He met a beautiful redhead while the family was stationed in southern Louisiana, and together they raised three children. Across the decades, he displayed flawless dedication to his family. He is a man taught to quietly act out love.

God has used each of Dad’s difficulties to condition him. He has been a successful businessman, a deacon in his church, a loving husband, and a great father. He has focused on the inheritance he will leave to his children, but I suspect he has never fully grasped the greatness bequeathed to him by his father. Duty, honor, and courage are a legacy he has worn without ever knowing their source.

He honored his firstborn son with the name James McAfee, although everybody just calls him Jimmy. He taught him the same courage and strength that had been required of the generations that carried the name before him. He trained him to focus on doing the right thing, acting boldly in the midst of uncertainty, even when his heart cries out for answers.

For years, I never understood why we didn’t talk about his father, who is my grandfather, and our connection to the McAfee dynasty. I could not appreciate the long silence that was broken when his mother passed away last year. After seventy-six years, Dad is now free to celebrate the father he never knew and to contemplate his place in the extended family he was unable to lead.

To all his grandchildren – Erin, James, Gabrielle, Kaitlyn, Michal, Alyssa, Cameron, and even tiny Emery, I hope you know how much this patriarch loves you. In time, may you recognize in each old photo everything he has done to give you the best life possible. I pray that you can connect to the little boy who will always be inside of him, knowing he was born into greatness but uncertain how he fits in. As you understand his story, you will love him even more.

I love you, Dad. Thank you for being the hero your generation needed you to be. Thank you for teaching me that there are many ways to show love, and they all start with putting others first.