To Camp or Not to Camp

Signed up for the Tecumseh Trail Marathon in December in Indiana, and may camp instead of getting a hotel room. Camping. In December. I'll give it more thought. I've camped in 17-degree weather, a night I'll never forget. I was in the Army at the time, and it was a record-setting low temperature for that November night near Augusta, Georgia. We did not have down sleeping bags, of course, and were ill-equipped for the cold snap. Not ideal training conditions for my next military post, Vietnam, where I would be two months later.

The Tribes and the President

A Native American poses for photographer Marilyn Angel Wynn, who travels all over the U.S. to document the descendants of the first people of the land.

November is National American Indian Heritage Month. I doubt a lot of people know that. In November of this year, November 5, in fact, representatives of the 564 federally recognized Indian tribes, at the invitation of President Obama, will converge on Washington, DC, for the White House Tribal Nations Conference to be held at the Department of the Interior (the White House isn't large enough to accomodate the expected crowd). This is part of Obama's plan, and promise, to address the concerns of Native Americans. The president says he wants to hear directly from tribal leaders about how his administration can meet their needs and help make their lives better. Many Native Americans suffer higher rates of crime and poorer health than the rest of the population. Many tribal leaders hope this will not be just a huge gripe session, but rather a coordinated, meaningful meeting that will produce results. I think this President will listen, and get something done. We'll see how it goes.

Capital Buffaloes

I've been to DC a few times, but have yet to see THESE buffalo. Given a good bath, these are four beautiful animals.

The Final Journey of Lone Eagle

See THIS site for a powerful, moving story.

Tale of a Tragedy

U.S. Army Ranger Pat Tillman

Recent photo of weary U.S. Marines resting after an eight-hour firefight against Taliban forces in Afghanistan.

I have been anxiously awaiting the release of THIS book (see editorial review for a good summary). I have been intrigued by Pat Tillman's life journey for quite a while, and one of my favorite authors now tells Tillman's story. I have a lot of questions, and I hope this book will answer them.

Keeping Tradition Alive

I found the following article quite interesting:
http://www.reznetnews.org/article/buffalo-ceremony-seldom-seen-rez-37840

In the Herd, Ya Gotta Start 'Em Young

Grandson Devin in a nifty new shirt. Wonder who got him that?

Friday!!

Flashback 1969: At the Playground with Joe and His Grease Band

Joe Cocker. Unknown to many before this appearance at Woodstock.


May 1969. With a friend I enter the Kinetic Playground in Chicago where we are to see the Who in concert. The opening act is a group called Joe Cocker and the Grease Band. I had never heard of them. We take our seats, which are actually not seats because everyone sits on the floor. So, Joe and the Grease Band come out and start to play and . . . Whoa. They knocked everybody out. These guys, Englishmen, were quite good, especially Joe, with his spastic moves and guttural bellowing of songs. That band left a lasting impression on me.

Fast forward to a few months later, August 1969. I'm looking over the front page of the New York Times at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. I'm in the second week of basic training in the Army. The photo in the paper shows the masses at the music festival at Woodstock. I didn't know it then but Joe Cocker and the Grease Band had played at Woodstock and had made an indelible mark in rock music history.

To commemorate the 40th anniversary of Woodstock this weekend, I will watch my DVD of the Woodstock movie and once again be mesmerized by Joe and the Grease Band's version of the Beatles' "With a Little Help from My Friends." Watch it above. Starts slowly, then roars. Knocks me out.

"Like a Stake in the Heart"

Gang member at Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, South Dakota.

Samuel, an adopted youth at the Pine Ridge Reservation, was a 14-year-old ninth grader when this photo was taken earlier this year. Samuel was adopted by a Pine Ridge family who has many other adopted children from dysfunctional families on the reservation. Through the Dakota Youth Project, a sponsor from Germany is sending monthly support for Samuel. The Pine Ridge school dropout rate is reported to be 70% or more. I wonder how Samuel is doing.

THIS article is a sad commentary on gang problems on American Indian reservations, while THIS article is specifically about the Pine Ridge reservation.

Vic Glover, a Vietnam vet (combat medic), journalist, and Pine Ridge resident, has written a series of short essays on life on the reservation entitled "Keeping Heart on Pine Ridge." From his book:

"People out there in the American world don't know how pitiful America's First Citizens really are....They don't know that 67 percent of the population here lives in third-world poverty, and half the people over forty-five suffer from diabetes. People don't seem to know or care that there is more than 85 percent unemployment and an incredible rate of alcoholism and dysfunction, infant mortality, and teenage suicide. The enormity of the problems are as staggering as America's neglect. Like a stake in the heart....When America is having a hard time, life then becomes especially difficult for many of her native people....We rely on each other, get by and keep the fire lit."

And THIS site details the story of troubled Pine Ridge youth. No wonder there is so much despair.

Coexisting: Madeline Rose and Ali Baba

This is my cat, Maddie. She's 13 and has been queen of my house for many years. One of her favorite perches is here on the dining room table next to the buffalo statue centerpiece. She spends a lot more time there now to avoid this intruder into her life . . .

. . . Ali Baba, whom I acquired recently from my son Tim. Ali is a strange critter: he eats from his bowl only when I am preparing my own meals, and he curls into a ball just a couple of feet below me on the floor when it's time for my reading in bed, and, as far as I know, he doesn't move from that spot all night. When I pick up his leash, he knows that means "Outside!" and prances and kicks like a bucking bronco until I get him out the door. Hilarious. Maddie doesn't think too much of him, though: much hissing and arching of her back when he's near. A sure sign that she wants him to know it's her domain: this morning Maddie spots Ali coming down the hall toward the kitchen; she quietly steps in front of him, blocking the entire kitchen doorway. No hissing or arched back, just a rigid barrier presented to the perplexed Ali, who looks up at me with a "What do I do?" look. We'll see how this relationship develops.

I'll Be Back on My Blog Feet Soon

Mark Buehrle Just Pitched a Perfect Game! Go Sox!

The New President Meets Old Grunter

With the passing of Walter Cronkite, whose evening newscasts were essential viewing for me, we have seen clips of Walter's life and times. I don't know if Walter had any commentary on this particular stage of President Kennedy's inaugural parade in January 1961, but I thought I'd post this photo. As you can see, there are a lot of smiling faces, including that of the new President (directly above the Presidential seal) and a clapping Vice President Johnson to the right of Kennedy. That's Buddy Heaton passing by the reviewing stand on Old Grunter, a "partially tamed" buffalo he purchased for $500 in 1950.

"Old Grunter didn’t come with a detailed set of riding instructions," Buddy recalled, "and it took two years of trial and error to get the hang of riding the buffalo right side up. A good part of that time was spent sailing through the air and then having to pick my backside up off the ground. It quickly became apparent that a healthy young buffalo is not the gentlest of God’s creatures, y’know.”

While on Old Grunter, Buddy managed to shake hands with Kennedy and Johnson during the parade. Also on Inauguration Day, Buddy rode Grunter up the steps of the Capitol Building.

In 1972, at the age of 25, Old Grunter died after eating some contaminated alfalfa. “Burying an old friend like Grunter was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life,” said Buddy.

On the Trail

Ethan at the Buffalo Trace Trail last Thursday during the weekly run with the herd. He and I covered about 2.5 miles of the 5-mile trail, alternating running and walking. The prairie grasses and flowers in the background were prevalent in the days when buffalo roamed central Illinois.

Thieves

This is What I Should be Doing . . .

. . . because of the 97-degree heat index, but instead I'm going over to the Princess Palace and cutting up a huge downed treee limb for the city to collect. I'ts such a big limb that I can also get some firewood out of it. All this from the recent rainstorms, of which we've had quite enough.

Happy Birthday, Princess!

Senseless, Yet It Continues

This buffalo calf, if it survives predation by wolves and grizzlies and the bitterly cold winters at Yellowstone National Park, may grow to prosper if left to its natural tendencies. But much of the time that doesn't happen at Yellowstone; instead, the following does . . . .

Look closely at this, especially the segment that starts in about the middle of the video: a lame buffalo calf and its irritated mom tell the story; a result of the hazing. You would think that descendants of the wild buffalo that fed, clothed, and sheltered Native Americans, pioneers, soldiers, railroad workers, and countless others in the settlement of America would get a little slack today. They're aren't a lot of wild buffalo left in the country, and these particular buffalo are a special lot. The buffalo here have wandered out of the park boundary and onto the Horse Butte peninsula near West Yellowstone, a favorite area for them in the spring, especially for the births of new buffalo. The "cowboys" of the Montana Department of Livestock are hazing not only buffalo, but also any other wildlife in the area as they are pushed back onto park land. The cowboys are on private property where there are signs posted by residents stating that the area is a welcome zone for buffalo. If left to their natural tendencies, the buffalo would wander back to the park, but the threat of brucellosis, a disease that buffalo can transmit to cattle, is a powerful tool that livestock growers use to protect their cattle grazing interests. HOWEVER, there are NO cattle in this area when this hazing happens every spring, and there has not been a single case of brucellosis transmsitted to cattle by buffalo. In fact, the brucellosis that infects some of the Yellowstone bison was passed on to them by cattle. I am a staunch supporter of The Buffalo Field Campaign, which shot this video. They and many others out West are doing their best to try to stop the hazing, but the political choke hold of the cattle ranching industry is strong. It's a shame that the magnificent buffalo herd is treated like common livestock, not the wildlife that are admired by so many Yellowstone visitors and buffalo lovers from afar, like me. As I was preparing this, a press release by the Buffalo Field Campaign came out:

"June 17. Montana Department of Livestock (DOL) agents captured three bull bison this morning in the Duck Creek bison trap located on private land less than 200 yards from the western border of Yellowstone National Park. The bison were loaded onto a livestock trailer and shipped to a slaughterhouse. They had been grazing peacefully near the Park border for the past several weeks on and around National Forest lands purchased for wildlife habitat."

SENSELESS.

Join the Buffalo Fleet? Duty Calls

Well, I've joined the world of Facebook. In that world is a group called the C-U Water Buffaloes, an offspring of our landlocked Buffalo Warriors. Seems this paddling herd has kayaks and canoes and travels the waterways of central Illinois. Several buffalo have tried to recruit me for the fleet, but . . . I ain't got no boat. We'll see.