old indian records

Where are the records of the reservation, the ones
about water, the land and somethings about both.

They are scattered all over in the corners, the
forgotten places and in the care of Washington.


Where are the records for our water. What is the story
about how we got to today, and how the changes to the
indian land happened. Can we find these records.


They are scattered, there maybe some in
California....then send someone to see if they are
really there; we need to know what they say.


Walking into the building, there are the guards
checking for metal, it is a large building...faded
yellow. The halls are wide and just inside to the
right is the record center, where all records of
interest to the government keep them.


Do you have picture I.D., do you have a reasearchers'
card, did you call before you came and who did you
talk to...wait right here while I call someone.


The room is large divided into three sections, on the
left are the offices of the those that run the place,
dressed nicely and holding their coffee. In the middle
is a room, made of all glass with tables inside and a
desk in the corner where one of them watches those
that go in there.


Beyond that are files of microfilm, ship lists,
naturalized citizen records, birth, census and death
lists where genealogists spend their day at viewing
machines working quietly searching for names they
might know.


A woman comes in and says her grandfather came from
Germany, her name is Shipley, is their any record of
them coming in to the United States in 1893?


We got your request and I checked it out, says a small
lady with dark brown hair, all we have is a family of
German descent with the name of Shivley that came in
during that time, a husband, a wife and two children.
Could this be them, they married in German but were
Polish Jews. Could this be the family you are looking
for?


I don't know she says...they were Jews?


Here, someone opens a binder you have to sign in, do
you have picture I.D?, this is your number use it so
sign in...it is 8:10 AM, put that time down. Let me
call someone to help you...wait over there.


Sitting down there is a couple looking for bankruptcy
records, they need to look at something, a Chinese man
comes in looking for naturalization records. A man
with a goatee comes in and walks into the glass room
and a clerk wheels a cart into him with records. He
sets up a lap top and begins to type from the files
given to him.


You know you can't bring that case in with you will
have to rent a locker...but these are my notes.


She says without looking up, you can't anything in the
room with you...get a locker over there against the
wall. A yellow lined pad is brought back, she looks up
a second and says, that has to be put up to, no pens
or anything but three sheets of paper, they have to be
loose. The pad is put away.


Workers come in and don't look left or right, one man
in his thirties walks in, the steam is coming off his
head, he slams the door as he comes in and walks
through the barrier for employees only and sits in the
room of glass. He doesn't look at anyone, but sits
down and begins to write.


A young blonde lady comes up dressed in levis. She
looks at the yellow lined paper, the three sheets in
my hand. You can't use that paper, do you have any
white paper? You will have to put it away in one of
the lockers over there. She has the look of someone
who wishes she were somewhere else, it is too hard for
her to stand there and wait while I put the yellow
paper away.


If you have anything in your pockets you will need to
put them away too, any gum, pens or pills. It is not a
question, it is a directive...do it.


Did you get my letter? I am looking for...she cuts me
off. She says it came, there are boxes pulled for you
to look at.


Let me check your I.D. first, is you researcher card
current, let me see it. You can't talk in the room, no
food, drinks, no cell phones, no visitors, no pens or
your own boxes or briefcases of any kind. No folders
or files. When you look at a file, take them out one
at a time, they can't hang over the edge, the paper
should not be held up, but should lay flat on the
desk. No cameras, no photos, no copying of
photographs. She is looking at the wall. Do you
understand? Before, she hears the answer she turns and
goes to the phone...oh, the drapes are finally in and
it goes on from there.


Waiting, standing at the counter, maybe five minutes,
maybe ten, she finishes and says go ahead and go in
there. She motions to the glass room. If you need to
copy, he will do it for you, she looks at the guy
sitting at the desk writing, he doesn't look up.


Don't lick the pages to turn them. Remember no food,
no gum, no pens....she leaves the room and wheels a
cart in and leaves it by the desk and the guy. The
cart will sit here, you can take one box at a time.


I pick out a box, and take it to the desk. It is half
turned and I stand up and look into it. She walks out
and then turns around and comes back in.


You can't leave the box half turned, the man at the
desk has to be able to watch you. Just take out one
file at a time.


I pull a folder out, she tells me, you need to use
these slips of paper to mark the location where the
file came out so it goes back in where it belongs. She
sticks the paper in and leaves.


I look in the folder, it is the maintenance schedule
for a 1938 Ford used by the Irrigation Department of
the Indian Service, the record shows it was brought in
for a check of the steering after it got stuck.


It has multiple pages. She comes back in the room and
says, you will have look at the file one sheet at a
time.


It is stapled.


He will have to remove the staples for you, leave the
box on his desk and he will take them out for you.


I can do it myself.


No, these records have to stand the test of time, we
don't any of them torn. He will do it.


The desk guy continues to write once she leaves the
room, he doesn't look up. I stand there waiting for
him to say something. He points with his pencil to the
small table I am using. I look that way, he continues
to point at it. I get it, I am supposed to sit down
and wait.


I sit down. He gets up and leave the glass room and
goes outside. I wait for him and after ten minutes go
looking for him. He is outside the building smoking a
cigarette. He doesn't look at me or does anything else
but smoke a cigarette.


I wait for him in the glass room. He comes back in,
and looking at the clock it is 10 o'clock. He removes
the staples methodically from each file, like a robot
not saying a word. He leaves the box on his desk. I
wait for him to say something, he points to the box
and nothing more. He puts his head down and continues
to write.


I go back and open the folder, after putting in the
slip of paper as the young blonde lady watches me from
outside the room. I open the file and the second page
is a handwritten not for a lunch order.


It is going to be a long two weeks looking at records,
Indian records in care of the United States
Government. So goes the beginning of the first day
there.....
rustywire