Fact or Fiction?

Its early morning and Im reading through my emails. There's one from my son who is in North Carolina at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base. I open it quickly as I miss him a lot and enjoy hearing from him. This one is about a song he has heard that has caught his fancy and he wants to know if I know it. It is a song by Roger Whittaker, an artist we both enjoy, but it is not one I am familiar with. It is called Albany. In the days that follow I will listen to it many times, I will copy the lyrics, and I will begin an extensive search to see if I can find any historical reference to this tale. I am unsuccessful in finding any concrete evidence of it being either fact or fiction. At one point I even try contacting Mr. Whittaker, but receive no response. In the end I conclude that it is probably a fictional account of some long forgotten incident or legend.

Why the intense interest? It is because it has enthralled both my son and I completely, and we both have allowed our imaginations to begin creating stories around it. I know there would be no conflict if we both wrote our versions of it, because we write from different perspective, but I suggest that someday we collaborate on a book based on this song.
Now whenever I hear or think about this song I remember that first email that brought this song into my life. Although it hasn't happened yet, I still hold out hope that the day will come when my son and I do find the opportunity to write this story in our own way. And sometimes in the listening the haunting melody will reach into my soul and I am there at Albany.

I truly wanted to include a video of Roger performing this song, but the only one I could find was in German. Here though is the tale as told in the song

This is Gordon Mc Kenzies story
and the story of Albany, his family home.

Gordon was the eldest son,
a golden eagle so the story runs.
His brother Charles, dark as a raven.
One night in jealous rage and spite,
the raven struck with all his might.
The eagle turns as quick as light
and slew the raven.

See the kings men come,
riding through the heather,
Mc Kenzies life they cry and all his land.
Silent clansmen stand motionless together.
An English king wont have a highland man.

So the king by his decree,
did raze and fire poor Albany,
to let the people see his power.
But Highland justice still prevails
and according to the clansmen tales.
A golden eagle nest forever in her tower.