Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Indian Wars are Far From Over
Hello one and all. First and foremost, I wish to thank my wonderful wife (we did a personal ceremony, a public ceremony will be done when we can figure out a date), Rhonda. Were it not for Rhonda's idea to take this journey to the Protecting Mother Earth Conference and driving across South Dakota, Nebraska, North Dakota, and Minnesota, with stops at Wounded Knee, Bear Butte, Pine Ridge, and the conference, I would have never taken this journey. Rhonda and I learned a lot on this journey. We are a good team and continuing our growth as such. Rhonda and I made this journey together, and it was a beautiful growing experience as we learned that the Indian wars are indeed, far from over.
We journeyed across South Dakota on I-90 on July 3rd. The amount of billboards on this interstate were amazing to say the least. Most dealt with "Wall Drug," a place we chose not to stop at and managed to pass up anyway. There were also billboards with many anti-abortion themes that we found pretty damned offensive. Near the end of our journey, I suggested one like, "My mother chose life. Now I proudly serve in the U.S. military killing other peoples babies in Iraq." Rhonda added "with white phosphorous..."
Our first stop was in Chamberlain. It is the site of the St. Joseph's Indian School, which I chose not to visit. Rhonda later suggested it would be good to give visitors there a real education of what it was like in those schools. I now wish we had gone. We ate at a place called Casey's, a store and cafe. We weren't served right away, either racism or bad service, most likely racism. What I found interesting about the place was that they exploited Indians in their merchandising but had no tobacco. I assume it was because of their "values," but found the irony amusing and tragic.
We stopped at a rest area further down where there was a concrete art structure of tipi poles...which were set up incorrectly.
We got to 240 where we headed south to Interior across the Badlands State Park, and wouldn't you know it, the fuckers have a federally sanctioned roadblock where they collect $15 for entering this sacred site. The only people they don't charge are Lakota. Rhonda put up a wonderful fight to try to get out of paying. She pointed out the racism and lack of consideration of this holy site as a place to pray. At the end of her conversation with the ranger, she told him, "you know this is wrong." (What a beautiful warrior!) Rhonda paid, and we journeyed through. We both felt like we were spiritually raped. The ranger alleged that half of the fee goes to the tribe, but I think he really meant (if he was indeed telling the truth), the corrupt tribal council. The Badlands, as they are called, are an immensely spiritual site. It is wrong to cage them for profit.
We finally got to Wounded Knee rather late. We found a giant billboard saying that the meadow area the sign was posted at was the campsite and the hill, about 100 yards to the West was the site where the 7th mounted their massacre with their hotchkiss cannons. Oh my God! It was so much closer than I had imagined. We weren't exactly sure where the burial grounds were, so we drove up the little driveway to see where the cannon fire came from, and there it was...the cemetery, right where they 7th ruthlessly slaughtered Lakota women, children, elderly, and men from. The cemetery is where the slaughter was led from.
A car pulled up and a Lakota man asked for our help. He was looking for money to get his mom out of jail to celebrate the 4th with her family. She got arrested because she didn't have a license or insurance. We drove from their to Pine Ridge but their van broke down on the way. We found out that this young man of 6'4" was actually a 15-year-old boy and still growing. OH LAY!
We drove into town to get them gas and had a hard time finding the jail. There was lots of traffic, I mean LOTS on this July 3rd evening. It was so wonderful seeing nothing but Indians surrounding us. When we finally found the jail, the young man, Clarence, showed up with his auntie in the van. They managed to get it restarted. We couldn't get his mother out because the judge had not yet set bail, so we drove into Nebraska.
White Clay, Nebraska is literally across the Rez border, and exists with a main purpose in mind; to sell alcohol to alcoholic Indians. It is a horribly creepy town, especially driving through at night. We spent the night in Rushville, Nebraska at the Nebraskaland Motel.
The next morning, we drove to Chadron, Nebraska, where Rhonda had spent a year of her early childhood.
We drove back to Pine Ridge where we discovered a sign that had the names of most, if not all the Lakota currently serving in Iraq. It was creepy, and we disagree with supporting such a genocidal war, but we also understand the conditions on the rez, and the suffering these soldiers will go through killing other dark skinned people in another nation.
We were greeted by a young man who was obviously suffering from fetal alcohol syndrome. He was friendly and kind. He liked Rhonda a lot, hugging her many times, and me...just once. I can't blame him. Rhonda is FINE!
A couple of young Indians drove up to us on an ATV and asked if we wanted to buy a dream catcher because they needed gas money. Rhonda bought it, though she is not into dream catchers. Unemployment rates are high on the rez and for many, they supplement their income (if an income exists) by selling stuff to tourists. Rhonda took many pictures of these things.
We got back to Wounded Knee and prayed. During our personal ceremony, some white tourists drove up and took our pictures. I tried not to have negative thoughts about these people, but it was difficult. There are some 200-400+ Indians crammed into the mass grave. One is known to have been still alive at the time of the burial. We also visited the gravesite of Lost Bird. It is a sacred, horrifying, and sad place.
Rhonda had a pointed conversation with the white folks who took our pictures, who seemed rather subdued. Rhonda, my friends, is quite the warrior woman and I am PROUD to call her my wife.
After we ended our prayers there, some Lakota drove up. At first I thought it was going to be a "what the fuck are you doing in my neighborhood?" type of thing, but it wasn't. A young man stepped out of his car with earings made by his mother that he was selling. These people are so poor because of the U.S. government boot on the neck of their economies, that they don't have the privilege of saying something like the above to strangers who arrive on their rez. They need to eat. They need to survive.
We picked up three hitchikers in Wounded Knee to deliver to Sharps, about 10 miles up the road. Rhonda had a coversation with the older woman, Ramona, and the two young men, David and Seth. She found out that they are usually starving at the end of the month. They try to pad their economies as best as possible. There are often more that a dozen people in one household. You usually don't get housing unless you are related to someone in the housing department. The local stores sell them rotten meat at inflated prices. They try to go to Chadron, Nebraska (about 70 miles away) to buy cheap food at the Walmart there, but considering transportation problems, it is rare that they can make such a journey. The young men told Rhonda that they don't hunt the deer because they have a strange disease they misnamed. Rhonda found out later at Bear Butte that the deer in the area have "mad cow."
We drove to Bear Butte, just outside of Sturgis, South Dakota. There are many huge bars there that only operate during the biker rally. Jay Allen is building his on 79, probably about a mile or less from the mountain. Jay's bar, catch this, will be called "Sacred Grounds." He has a plan in the works that I think he may have scrapped but I'm not sure, of building a giant Indian at the entrance. There is also an encamptment just on the other side of the mountain where a big biker party goes on during the rally right at the foot of Bear Butte. Drunken belligerance is preferred over prayer in America. We had many wonderful conversations with Alex and Debra White Plume, Carter and Vic Camp, and many others.
Alex White Plume asked I send the message far and wide that those Indians whose reservations the Lewis and Clark re-enacters cross stop them from crossing. Don't celebrate this genocide. He knows that their attempts will most likely not work, but it is worth the effort.
We journeyed to the top of Bear Butte where we could hear the quietest car drive by on 79. On the way up, a group of tourists were coming down and one white fellow stated, "When you think you are half way up, you're not. When you think you are near the top, you're not." It wasn't a sacred site to him, it was just a tough hike. On getting back down, we met a grandaughter of Frank Fools crow as she placed tobacco of the bust of Frank at the visitors center. You can hear the quietest car from the top of Bear Butte.
The favored comments by the bikers and their supporters is "you know when the rally is, therefore your prayers should accomodate that time." Well, the bikers know that Bear Butte is a sacred site where Indians have and continue to pray for some hundreds, if not thousands of years. Why don't they accomodate that? I guess a rally that has been around for a few decades where drunken debauchery takes place is much more important than prayer. The Hells Angels, Carter told us, are going to help out in protecting the site during the rally.
As we were heading out on July 5th, Rhonda had received news of a family tragedy. We went back to Bear Butte before heading across South and North Dakota and prayed. On our way out, there was a couple at the gate who had parked their motorcycle. These white folks asked us how far the road goes up. We told them that this is a place of prayer. This is a sacred place. We had just finished a prayer. They should carry their prayers with them when they go up there. They were having none of that: "How far can I drive up this road?" the man asked.
We headed across North Dakota and spent the night in Fargo.
We got to the conference (after I took a wrong turn that added quite a few miles to our journey) around mid-afternoon the next day. Besides Pine Ridge and Bear Butte, the Protecting Mother Earth Conference brought to light the continued WAR on the Indigenous populations of this alleged great nation of ours.
We found out from Rose and Peter that the Northern Dine Rez in Northern Alberta, Saskathewan, and a few other provinces, is being destroyed by the oil corporations who are digging up the oil sand underneath their rez. They have to clear the lands surface of all vegetation and animal life, then dig huge pits with giant scoops to get at that oil-sand. They also suffer from contimants from three uranium mines on their land, as well as other corporate caused damage from other resource extraction and energy businesses. Most of their people support this because IT'S BETTER THAN STARVING! They refuse to look at the genocidal implications and the destruction of their land that the corporations ARE NOT GOING TO CLEAN UP! Once they've stolen all they can, the Northern Dine will face only death.
Lori, from the Gila River Rez talked about the chemical dumps on her land that have caused many health problems (including her daughter) and birth defects. A medical waste incinerator on their land is also causing many health problems.
A woman from the Goshute Rez is talking about how her council voted to become the "temporary storage site" for nuclear waste and the current go ahead by the Nuclear Regulatory Commision to do so. Of course, this will make the rez the PERMANENT STORAGE FACILITY, but people are starving and are looking for an income or something to pad council corruption.
A woman from the Tohono O'odham told of the waste dumped on her rez and the conditions of life imposed by the U.S. government on their rez because it crosses the Mexican border. She talked of how the border patrol helps out drug smugglers as well.
A woman explained how Manitoba Hydro had secret meetings with her tribal council for five years before they came forward with a dam project they claim will not harm the water. She pulled a good one on them during a meeting with execs from the corporation by throwing out their bottled water and pouring them water from a local contaminated lake which even the council head refused to drink.
Local people were complaining about the high murder rates in Cass Lake on the Leech Lake Reservation where the conferfence was held.
The Navaho are dealing with horrible mining practices with some limited success.
Rhonda hooked up with many people at the conference. She came through with her beautiful warriorness as well as dealing with the tragedy.
The weirdest thing, the building that the conference was held around had a wake for a local resident, which made the Dine (Navajo) for the most part, leave the site because of their beliefs surrounding the dead.
After the conference, we drove to Minneapolis where we spent the night. We walked down by the Missouri River and took in the sites. Then we flew home the next day and will be working together and on our own with each others support to GET EVERYTHING THE FUCK BACK! There's my report folks. Do what you can to help make things right!
We drove back to Minneapolis and spent the night there. We went for a walk along the Missouri and the ruins of old flour mills. Quite interesting. It is a really nice city, as far as cities go.
Before we left for the airport, we went to Burch Bark Bookstore, owned by author Louise Erdrich. We liked it a lot and bought a few books to help with our good fight.
Keep up the good work, one and all, to bring an end to the genocidal war against Indians and so many other peoples world wide for the destructive and sick corporations. I thank you. But mostly, I wish to thank my beautiful wife, Rhonda, for this wonderful journey and furthering the work we will be doing the rest of our lives in one form or another, unless we actually win, which I also hold as a possibility.
Love you all!
Eugene Johnson
We journeyed across South Dakota on I-90 on July 3rd. The amount of billboards on this interstate were amazing to say the least. Most dealt with "Wall Drug," a place we chose not to stop at and managed to pass up anyway. There were also billboards with many anti-abortion themes that we found pretty damned offensive. Near the end of our journey, I suggested one like, "My mother chose life. Now I proudly serve in the U.S. military killing other peoples babies in Iraq." Rhonda added "with white phosphorous..."
Our first stop was in Chamberlain. It is the site of the St. Joseph's Indian School, which I chose not to visit. Rhonda later suggested it would be good to give visitors there a real education of what it was like in those schools. I now wish we had gone. We ate at a place called Casey's, a store and cafe. We weren't served right away, either racism or bad service, most likely racism. What I found interesting about the place was that they exploited Indians in their merchandising but had no tobacco. I assume it was because of their "values," but found the irony amusing and tragic.
We stopped at a rest area further down where there was a concrete art structure of tipi poles...which were set up incorrectly.
We got to 240 where we headed south to Interior across the Badlands State Park, and wouldn't you know it, the fuckers have a federally sanctioned roadblock where they collect $15 for entering this sacred site. The only people they don't charge are Lakota. Rhonda put up a wonderful fight to try to get out of paying. She pointed out the racism and lack of consideration of this holy site as a place to pray. At the end of her conversation with the ranger, she told him, "you know this is wrong." (What a beautiful warrior!) Rhonda paid, and we journeyed through. We both felt like we were spiritually raped. The ranger alleged that half of the fee goes to the tribe, but I think he really meant (if he was indeed telling the truth), the corrupt tribal council. The Badlands, as they are called, are an immensely spiritual site. It is wrong to cage them for profit.
We finally got to Wounded Knee rather late. We found a giant billboard saying that the meadow area the sign was posted at was the campsite and the hill, about 100 yards to the West was the site where the 7th mounted their massacre with their hotchkiss cannons. Oh my God! It was so much closer than I had imagined. We weren't exactly sure where the burial grounds were, so we drove up the little driveway to see where the cannon fire came from, and there it was...the cemetery, right where they 7th ruthlessly slaughtered Lakota women, children, elderly, and men from. The cemetery is where the slaughter was led from.
A car pulled up and a Lakota man asked for our help. He was looking for money to get his mom out of jail to celebrate the 4th with her family. She got arrested because she didn't have a license or insurance. We drove from their to Pine Ridge but their van broke down on the way. We found out that this young man of 6'4" was actually a 15-year-old boy and still growing. OH LAY!
We drove into town to get them gas and had a hard time finding the jail. There was lots of traffic, I mean LOTS on this July 3rd evening. It was so wonderful seeing nothing but Indians surrounding us. When we finally found the jail, the young man, Clarence, showed up with his auntie in the van. They managed to get it restarted. We couldn't get his mother out because the judge had not yet set bail, so we drove into Nebraska.
White Clay, Nebraska is literally across the Rez border, and exists with a main purpose in mind; to sell alcohol to alcoholic Indians. It is a horribly creepy town, especially driving through at night. We spent the night in Rushville, Nebraska at the Nebraskaland Motel.
The next morning, we drove to Chadron, Nebraska, where Rhonda had spent a year of her early childhood.
We drove back to Pine Ridge where we discovered a sign that had the names of most, if not all the Lakota currently serving in Iraq. It was creepy, and we disagree with supporting such a genocidal war, but we also understand the conditions on the rez, and the suffering these soldiers will go through killing other dark skinned people in another nation.
We were greeted by a young man who was obviously suffering from fetal alcohol syndrome. He was friendly and kind. He liked Rhonda a lot, hugging her many times, and me...just once. I can't blame him. Rhonda is FINE!
A couple of young Indians drove up to us on an ATV and asked if we wanted to buy a dream catcher because they needed gas money. Rhonda bought it, though she is not into dream catchers. Unemployment rates are high on the rez and for many, they supplement their income (if an income exists) by selling stuff to tourists. Rhonda took many pictures of these things.
We got back to Wounded Knee and prayed. During our personal ceremony, some white tourists drove up and took our pictures. I tried not to have negative thoughts about these people, but it was difficult. There are some 200-400+ Indians crammed into the mass grave. One is known to have been still alive at the time of the burial. We also visited the gravesite of Lost Bird. It is a sacred, horrifying, and sad place.
Rhonda had a pointed conversation with the white folks who took our pictures, who seemed rather subdued. Rhonda, my friends, is quite the warrior woman and I am PROUD to call her my wife.
After we ended our prayers there, some Lakota drove up. At first I thought it was going to be a "what the fuck are you doing in my neighborhood?" type of thing, but it wasn't. A young man stepped out of his car with earings made by his mother that he was selling. These people are so poor because of the U.S. government boot on the neck of their economies, that they don't have the privilege of saying something like the above to strangers who arrive on their rez. They need to eat. They need to survive.
We picked up three hitchikers in Wounded Knee to deliver to Sharps, about 10 miles up the road. Rhonda had a coversation with the older woman, Ramona, and the two young men, David and Seth. She found out that they are usually starving at the end of the month. They try to pad their economies as best as possible. There are often more that a dozen people in one household. You usually don't get housing unless you are related to someone in the housing department. The local stores sell them rotten meat at inflated prices. They try to go to Chadron, Nebraska (about 70 miles away) to buy cheap food at the Walmart there, but considering transportation problems, it is rare that they can make such a journey. The young men told Rhonda that they don't hunt the deer because they have a strange disease they misnamed. Rhonda found out later at Bear Butte that the deer in the area have "mad cow."
We drove to Bear Butte, just outside of Sturgis, South Dakota. There are many huge bars there that only operate during the biker rally. Jay Allen is building his on 79, probably about a mile or less from the mountain. Jay's bar, catch this, will be called "Sacred Grounds." He has a plan in the works that I think he may have scrapped but I'm not sure, of building a giant Indian at the entrance. There is also an encamptment just on the other side of the mountain where a big biker party goes on during the rally right at the foot of Bear Butte. Drunken belligerance is preferred over prayer in America. We had many wonderful conversations with Alex and Debra White Plume, Carter and Vic Camp, and many others.
Alex White Plume asked I send the message far and wide that those Indians whose reservations the Lewis and Clark re-enacters cross stop them from crossing. Don't celebrate this genocide. He knows that their attempts will most likely not work, but it is worth the effort.
We journeyed to the top of Bear Butte where we could hear the quietest car drive by on 79. On the way up, a group of tourists were coming down and one white fellow stated, "When you think you are half way up, you're not. When you think you are near the top, you're not." It wasn't a sacred site to him, it was just a tough hike. On getting back down, we met a grandaughter of Frank Fools crow as she placed tobacco of the bust of Frank at the visitors center. You can hear the quietest car from the top of Bear Butte.
The favored comments by the bikers and their supporters is "you know when the rally is, therefore your prayers should accomodate that time." Well, the bikers know that Bear Butte is a sacred site where Indians have and continue to pray for some hundreds, if not thousands of years. Why don't they accomodate that? I guess a rally that has been around for a few decades where drunken debauchery takes place is much more important than prayer. The Hells Angels, Carter told us, are going to help out in protecting the site during the rally.
As we were heading out on July 5th, Rhonda had received news of a family tragedy. We went back to Bear Butte before heading across South and North Dakota and prayed. On our way out, there was a couple at the gate who had parked their motorcycle. These white folks asked us how far the road goes up. We told them that this is a place of prayer. This is a sacred place. We had just finished a prayer. They should carry their prayers with them when they go up there. They were having none of that: "How far can I drive up this road?" the man asked.
We headed across North Dakota and spent the night in Fargo.
We got to the conference (after I took a wrong turn that added quite a few miles to our journey) around mid-afternoon the next day. Besides Pine Ridge and Bear Butte, the Protecting Mother Earth Conference brought to light the continued WAR on the Indigenous populations of this alleged great nation of ours.
We found out from Rose and Peter that the Northern Dine Rez in Northern Alberta, Saskathewan, and a few other provinces, is being destroyed by the oil corporations who are digging up the oil sand underneath their rez. They have to clear the lands surface of all vegetation and animal life, then dig huge pits with giant scoops to get at that oil-sand. They also suffer from contimants from three uranium mines on their land, as well as other corporate caused damage from other resource extraction and energy businesses. Most of their people support this because IT'S BETTER THAN STARVING! They refuse to look at the genocidal implications and the destruction of their land that the corporations ARE NOT GOING TO CLEAN UP! Once they've stolen all they can, the Northern Dine will face only death.
Lori, from the Gila River Rez talked about the chemical dumps on her land that have caused many health problems (including her daughter) and birth defects. A medical waste incinerator on their land is also causing many health problems.
A woman from the Goshute Rez is talking about how her council voted to become the "temporary storage site" for nuclear waste and the current go ahead by the Nuclear Regulatory Commision to do so. Of course, this will make the rez the PERMANENT STORAGE FACILITY, but people are starving and are looking for an income or something to pad council corruption.
A woman from the Tohono O'odham told of the waste dumped on her rez and the conditions of life imposed by the U.S. government on their rez because it crosses the Mexican border. She talked of how the border patrol helps out drug smugglers as well.
A woman explained how Manitoba Hydro had secret meetings with her tribal council for five years before they came forward with a dam project they claim will not harm the water. She pulled a good one on them during a meeting with execs from the corporation by throwing out their bottled water and pouring them water from a local contaminated lake which even the council head refused to drink.
Local people were complaining about the high murder rates in Cass Lake on the Leech Lake Reservation where the conferfence was held.
The Navaho are dealing with horrible mining practices with some limited success.
Rhonda hooked up with many people at the conference. She came through with her beautiful warriorness as well as dealing with the tragedy.
The weirdest thing, the building that the conference was held around had a wake for a local resident, which made the Dine (Navajo) for the most part, leave the site because of their beliefs surrounding the dead.
After the conference, we drove to Minneapolis where we spent the night. We walked down by the Missouri River and took in the sites. Then we flew home the next day and will be working together and on our own with each others support to GET EVERYTHING THE FUCK BACK! There's my report folks. Do what you can to help make things right!
We drove back to Minneapolis and spent the night there. We went for a walk along the Missouri and the ruins of old flour mills. Quite interesting. It is a really nice city, as far as cities go.
Before we left for the airport, we went to Burch Bark Bookstore, owned by author Louise Erdrich. We liked it a lot and bought a few books to help with our good fight.
Keep up the good work, one and all, to bring an end to the genocidal war against Indians and so many other peoples world wide for the destructive and sick corporations. I thank you. But mostly, I wish to thank my beautiful wife, Rhonda, for this wonderful journey and furthering the work we will be doing the rest of our lives in one form or another, unless we actually win, which I also hold as a possibility.
Love you all!
Eugene Johnson
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]