Day
17 - Monday, February 27, 2006
Hereford, Texas
Since
writing to you here, we traveled from Mountainair,
New Mexico to Vaughn, New Mexico (65 miles),
and from Vaughn to Clovis, New Mexico (118
miles). And today we are walking and running
to Hereford, Texas (57 miles).
Vaughn
is a tiny town of just over 500 people. We
stayed in the big hall at the City Hall / Police
Dispatcher offices. Dispatchers Muriel and
Felipe, and Assistant Clerk Carmen were incredibly
gracious, as was Penny's Diner, who supplied
dinner at half-price (thanks, Penny!). Dispatcher
Felipe showed his support by taking an official
report concerning an incident we experienced
on the road coming into Vaughn - a white pickup
truck driver held a rifle out his window as
he passed us, shaking it, and some thought
pointing it at us. Felipe notified a local
sheriff, who watched over us as we left Vaughn
to ensure our safety. On the other hand, thousands
of drivers have been courteous, curious, and
kind. Sacred Runners and Walkers have been
welcomed on the road and in every town we've
passed through. A peaceful spirit begets peaceful
spirits, kindness breeds more kindness, love
grows.
The
country out here is endless range land and
occasional low, rolling hills. On the road
from Mountainair to Vaughn, we saw Pronghorn
Sheep grazing peaceably among the cattle.
Along the route from Vaughn to Clovis, many
of us stopped for a somber visit at the Bosque
Redondo Memorial at Fort Sumner. We felt the
heavy spirits in that beautiful place, walked
through the Visitors' Center reading about
the history and viewing the artifacts and photos,
and then we held a pipe ceremony in memory
of the 3000 Navajo and Mescalero Apache people
who died there after the "Navaho Longest
Walk" of 1860s.
Bosque Redondo
Quotes:
- "Too few Americans are aware
of those dark chapters in our national
history when the lands of the Indians
were being wrested from them. A memorial
at Bosque Redondo, where thousands
of Native American families were
held captive, would help to teach
future generations not only of injustice
done, but of the courage and endurance
of the Navajos and Mescalero Apaches,
our fellow Americans." Tony
Hillerman
- "If the government wants us
to remain here we will do so and
do the best that we can -- but we
cannot be as contented as we would
be in our old homes -- we shall think
of them -- we all do think of them.
There is something within us that
does not speak but thinks -- and
though we remain silent our facs
speak to each other.... Cage the
badger and it will try to break from
his prison and regain its native
hole. Chain the eagle to the ground,
and it will strive to gain its freedom,
and thought it fails, it will lift
its head and look up to the sky which
is its home -- and we want to return
to our mountains and plains, where
we used to plant corn, wheat and
beans." An unidentified
Navajo leader, Fort Sumner, 1866
- Brighter the sun,
faster than an eye can see,
and still it is there --
the proudness of me
the proudness of who I am.
Can anyone take the proudness away?
No not anyone.
The Mescalero Apache part is carved into
my heart --
it is like the sacred drumbeat that
no one has heard but me,
it is like a vision that is standing there
in front of every one,
but it is only me that can see the vision.
Not every one.
I am Mescalero Apache.
-
Anonymous, 1998
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In
Clovis, we stayed at the New Mexico National
Guard Armory! This was a bit strange for some
of us anti-war peacemakers. Our host, Staff
Sergeant Terry Stevens, however, was really
eager to be at our service, and opens the armory
often to many different community groups. We
are so thankful for the Armory's hospitality.
On the Sacred Road, more soon...
Top
Day
18 - Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Pampa, Texas
Today's reflections come from three of our
Sacred Run participants.
First, from Owns The Sabre:
SACRED
RUN FOREVER
by owns the sabre on February 27, 2006 (and updated
March 13 2006)
If you listen closely on a
star lit night
You can still hear them running in the many valleys
and mountains
All brave they are
To carry my spirit with them these many years
Old though I am…now.
My spirit runs young and free
like the eagle in the sky.
Now and forever
It’s a sad day when we
find our brothers and sisters lying beside the road
They were once in flight
as they hovered above the trees in the moonlight
Their ancient songs echoing
through the night
but we can still hear them
**Go into the cities of stone
there you will find them among the ruins,
our native sons and daughters
You must stop what you are
doing and go pick them up
take them back home to the land of warriors
They came with the rain
where once vast parts of America were parched and
dry
With the many songs we sing
in the evening
we must surely be blessed that we are doing something
right
And the prayers that we carry,
though strange to some, are stronger to others.
Though intolerant they can
learn to love each other
What constitutes strength?
Its such a journey that we must all take to that
mountain top or
that lonely valley road below
It’s a discovery for
all - some of us to find for the first time
and
some of us a life time
Where is this peace? Where
is this place
I hope that some of us are not old is stature to
find peace that has
always been here
Natural forces do not argue with you, they are there
for you to see
Some day to find your way home
One precious individual fell
today
Not for lack of resignation doubt or courage
But by a common dilemma – known
as age
Such an ancient warrior from another time - she is
walking among the humble sea
of people over every blade of grass
on this Turtle Island
I can still see her, looking
at the Air Force Base, humbly chanting ,
bowing, smiling, pure humility and joy on her face
Too be continued
Second, we are pleased to present here the
words to Kid Valance's new song, written for
Sacred Run 2006:
THE SACRED
CIRCLE
I run
I walk I pray
for land and life
for our ancestors
for the future generations
for the Sacred Places
to protect the four-legged
and the winged creatures
to preserve the old ways
to respect the elders
and for PEACE
We come
from all over this world
Many Nations, ages, colors, faiths
to unite in our common purpose
to run and walk and pray for our belief
That all
life is Sacred, and we are
all related, and that we must help
our Mother Earth
In the Sacred Circle, to the four
directions, we give our prayers for
Mother Earth
Kid
Valance, 2006
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And the third reflection
for today comes from an anonymous participant,
writing under the name, Shining Roots:
God is Love
Love is Unity
Unity is Force
Force is Faith
Shining
Roots
2/27/06 |
|
Top
Day
19 - Wednesday, March 1, 2006
Hammon, Oklahoma
Today's reflection is by Kid Valance, one
of our Sacred Runners.
This
run has alrady shown us so many special places,
and we have heard so many good words. Clyde
Bellecourt's talk at Alcatraz, and the many
ceremonies that will be told about on other
pages. Staying at La Paz, with the spirit of
Cesar Chavez and his work and hearing his son
Paul speak -- very inspirational.
I especially love running through my favorite,
great little towns like Quemado, New Mexico,
which has a big arch festooned with old, old
deer antlers, and even has a huge Christmas
tree made out of them. Running up through Apache
Country, winding up and around with the Cactus
people, arms raised in silent cheers, urging
us on. Then the high plains, with small herds
of pronghorn antelopes on either side.
The animals seem to understand what's going
on, seeing this run as a moving spirit across
the landscape. They get excited and watch us
as a moving spirit across the landscape. They
get excitedand watch us, cows and horses sometimes
running alongside the road. The saddest, almost
too much to bear, were the long miles beside
the slaughterhouse stockpens, cattle getting
up from the dust to run with me as far as the
next fence, then the next group, hundreds of
faces looking at me for a reprieve that will
not come, seeming to say, "take me with
you" -- very sad. But our message is about
that, that all life is sacred, and the indifferent
killing for meat is hard to reconcile.
Yesterday we came into Pampa, Texas, where
Woody Guthrie cut his musical teeth. I would
like to mention that an old friend and music
hero of mine, Joe
Ely, sent me a contribution to keep me
in shoes, keep me running out here. Cats like
Joe, and my beautiful friends Susan, Jeneene,
and Julie have made it possible for me to do
this event, this spiritual run. And everyone
here is pulling together, helping each other
every day to do the tasks and chores that make
up this journey, and I am proud to be a part
of it.
Kid Valance
Top
Day
20 - Thursday, March 2, 2006
Hammon to Canton, Oklahoma
What
a WONDERFUL warm reception we received yesterday
at the new Community Center in Hammon,
Oklahoma! We sat in the great Circle welcoming
and being welcomed. One highlight of the ceremony
was when five members of the undefeated Hammon
High School Lady Warriors basketball team paid
us a visit. The Lady Warriors just completed
their 27-0 season, and have by now left for
the State Finals in Oklahoma City. We are planning
to follow them on the radio (94.3FM, 95.5FM
or 96.5FM). Dennis Banks gave the young women
strong praise and encouragement and we all
rose for a standing ovation. Dennis sent our
staff with the team to Oklahoma City, and told
them, "Never give up. You've already had
a perfect season. You have nothing to lose." They
received a blessing ceremony of sage, and we
all cheered them on their way again.
Another
highlight of the afternoon Circle was when
Edwin Pewo of Hammon stood forward and thanked
Dennis for all he has done over the years and
gave thanks for all of us walkers and runners
as well. In a heartfelt moment, Edwin spoke
of his hope for the children and future generations.
He told us he would run with us except for
his poor health, and offered what he could,
a generous gift of money, to support the Sacred
Run. Margie Pewo came forward and did the same,
as did a nephew.
The
people provided a feast of soup, cassaroles
and sandwiches for us, and another "midnight
snack" of warm frybread, cassaroles and
sweet rice. In the morning there was coffee
and (yum!) bacon and eggs!
As the day came to a close, there was a little
martial arts play under the stars. Running
10 miles doesn't seem to be enough! Here, Muro
and Feather encounter one another.
Top
Day
21 - Friday, March 3, 2006
Canton, Oklahoma
We
landed at Viola and Don Hatch's home yesterday,
just south of Canton, Oklahoma. Don and Viola
opened their home to us with hearts as big
and wide as the Oklahoma prairie. We crowded
inside like sardines, told our own stories
and heard great tales from the old days. Which
is to say, days of the Alcatraz occupation,
the BIA takeover, Wounded Knee and Pine Ridge.
And more - intense and powerful tales of local heroism,
witness and struggle. Like back in the early
1970's when Viola and Don and Cheyenne/Arapaho
and AIM leaders helped challenge the system
and start a new school after Indian children
in Hammon were mistreated. And like the time
when Viola's and Don's son was about to be
kicked out of school because of his traditional
long hair. That made the press all over the
country when AIM helped raise consciousness
about respect for traditional Native culture.
And they won, too!
After
a good sweat last night, some of us stayed
with Don and Viola - indoors and out back in
a big teepee. Others stayed at the local Cheyenne/Arapaho
Community Center. Many thanks to our hosts!
We had a little excitement before the sweat.
We had built the big fire to heat the rocks,
all safely contained in the fire pit, when
the local firefighters came roaring up! Concerned
that they might turn their hoses on our ceremonial
fire, several of us placed our bodies between
the fire engine and the fire. Others spoke
with the firefighters and ironed out the problem.
It has been incredibly hot and dry in Oklahoma
this winter, and this morning's news is full
of yesterday's devestating fires in nearby
towns. No wonder the fire department was concerned!
But there's no way the community is going to
stop our traditional ceremonial sweat.
The
tiny town of Canton, Oklahoma has a lot of
us strangers running around today! Sacred Runners
and Walkers are taking two days of rest here
in Canton. There's a lot of dirty laundry needing
attention, and a few sore legs, feet and backs.
Minoh is recovering from a cough and fever.
Dennis is treating us ALL with lemon-ginger
root tea, trying to prevent the bug from making
the rounds.
There's
not much internet connectivity in Canton, so
several of us have motored south about 25 miles
during the day, to work out of a beautiful
public library in Watonga, Oklahoma. Thank
you, helpful librarians! Thank you, as well,
to Leroy Lovato, of Leroy's laundry in Watonga
- several of us received a nice Sacred Run
discount on cleaning our dirty clothes.
Top
Day
22 - Saturday, March 4, 2006
Canton, Oklahoma
Today's reflection is a poem / chant, sent to sacredrun.org by Sharon Ruth Skolnick, who writes, "...I have been going through papers that
survived a house fire
that I too survived (thank G-d!) 5 years back, and I have found
many poems
I wrote 'back in the day' [late 1970s] when I was first part of the
circle
around Dennis and AIM, as a journalist, designer, and friend and
student.
One of them, 'The Road to the Sun' is a chant that rings so true today
that
I thought you would be interested to see it...."
THE ROAD TO THE SUN
A Chant for Dennis Banks
by Sharon Ruth Skolnick, March, 1976
The road to the sun —
The road to the sun has no billboards.
The road to the sun is a backroad.
The road to the sun
leads through the moon
through the origins
through the beginnings
through the inside doors.
Are you on the road to the sun?
Yes, I see you there.
Yes, I follow you there.
Yes, I walk with you there.
You have the mind of a magician in a body of grace.
Mountains and rivers are your mirrors.
You swallowed decades of school and stored them in your stomach
You absorbed wristwatches, train schedules, fine wild weed.
The hills of your future beckon and roll —
You are on the road to the sun.
Then why do you not smile?
Then why are you not free?
Then why do you dream of some other place?
Whose road is this?
Who owns the road to the sun?
Is it yours? Is it mine? Is it
corporate megalops?
greenback dollar?
alternate conspiracy?
Earth-mother?
all or none of the above?
You are on the road to the sun.
You have come from other roads —
sticks and stones pursued you.
hunger pursued you.
hatred pursued you,
there was nothing but ruins,
there was nothing but wasteland.
nothing and nothing to come,
until your parents’ parents found
this road through the fruited plain
to the sun.
Who built this road to the sun?
Back to the origins,
back to the first,
the builders
of the road to the sun.
Where are they?
Where have they gone?
Are they all gone?
Then who will walk with you
on the road to the sun?
Who will teach you to run?
What have you done?
It was not I, you say, hiding.
It was not I, you say, stumbling.
It was not I, you say, shrugging.
It was Indian fighters
and Hollywood movies
and Manifest Destiny
and somebody’s fathers,
they chased away the builders
of the road to the sun.
Now you ride along the road
and you stop for souvenirs
in the names of states and towns
and the images on beers
lying crumpled and scattered
along the road to the sun,
flung like seeds without rain
beside the road to the sun.
And something is missing
and something undone —
as you travel along,
heavy clouds hide the sun —
Towns and cities
Reservations
Peace committees
Many nations
Kangaroo courts, discrimination,
Innuendo, segregation – |
The pictures on the walls must change
inside the children’s schools:
pale white males who make the rules
and play the rest of us for fools.
Rush hour on the highway,
no one home on the range,
the only way is my way —
The pictures on the walls must change,
the pictures on the walls must change!
Your lease is up, the landlords say,
They’re taking the road to the sun away
If you want it back, you’ll have to pray.
If you want it back, you’ll have to pay —
Yours is not the only game we play,
not the only game we play.
The pictures on the walls must change —
Councils
Meetings
Treaties broken
Magazine articles
Subway tokens
Indigenous patterns
on sheets and pillows
Carved-up cottonwoods,
weeping willows
A land of the free
that was built on oppression
now enslaved by its old obsession
too scared to hear its own confession —
Smoking on the run
down the road to the sun.
The road to the sun is a backroad.
The road to the sun has no billboards.
Meanwhile back on the reservations
honky cops act out harrassment scenes,
getting away with hideous repressions
just behind your TV screens —.
Losing ground,
lost and found,
Some of the finest folks around,
Architects of the road to the sun.
Can our now-connection
cause a new collection
aiming fresh direction
down the highway to the sun?
through the skyway to the sun
the moon
the origins
the beginnings
the inside doors
Blow out the candles, for Grandfather’s sake,
on your American dream machine fantasy cake.
Pick the plastic from your teeth,
Gather words, it’s time to speak,
time to end the hide and seek —
Hurry! Hurry!
Come One, Come All
to the Phantasmagorical American Ball!
Through the eye of the eagle
to the heart of us all.
Free them, free us.
Free them, free us
Free them, free us
While they’re not free, you can’t be,
where they’re not free, neither are we.
Hurry, hurry, come all, come one
to a gathering of souls on the way to the sun
You can make it if you run
down the road to the sun
*
—Sharon Ruth Skolnick
March, 1976 |
