mixed blood

He came into my office looking for records about his
own family. He stood there, tall and slender, he told
me he was 67. His eyes were blue, but his skin color
was not white and not like a full blood, maybe
sandalwood brown. His hair was white, and when he
spoke his eyes did not move but just looked straight
at me.

I'm looking for allotment records from the 1890's he
told me, do you know where they could be. I am
interested in those that pre-date the creation of the
reservation.


Before 1861?


Yes, he said. I don't know for sure, but tell me what
you are looking for, if you don't mind me asking.


Go ahead, I would like to know, it doesn't matter to
me, I don't know you so go ahead and tell me, it is of
no consequence.


He stared at me and said, I don't know if I should. He
looked at me suspiciously.


It is up to you, I think you might be a descendant
looking for genealogy, and you are probably a mixed
blood, a term used by the government to classify
terminated Indians.


He sat down and started to talk, and he related his
family history, about how he came to be, and his early
memories, about an old bridge crossing on the old road
through the reservation. I had seen it on maps and
with him talking it came to life. He spoke about how
his family had to live with either his mother's folks
or his father's folks, on what was called the old
Daniels' place. His father's folks were mixed blood,
his grandfather having crossed the plains with his
brother and settled this land when it was homesteaded.
Old man Taylor was his name, it was called 5 quarter
land, that means a homestead cost $1.25 an acre, and
the family who settled it had to come with 25 cents
per acre a year for five years to pay off the land.
They had to prove up on it. I know the land he talked
about, and the names were familiar to me.


He talked about an old bridge that crossed Deep Creek,
and walking with his mother, and his grandmother. How
he slipped and fell into the irrigation ditch, and how
they fished him up and made him strip down to nothing
and he walked home that way. When he got home, his
clothes were hung on the saw horses to dry and he
played until they dried and then got dressed. He told
me about each of these people and they came to the
place called Daniel's ranch. How old Man Taylor had
married his mother, a full blooded Indian and he was
born into the world. They lived out in the sticks but
moved into what could be called a settlement where the
school was. He did not know what poor was, and what a
Mixed Blood was either. When he went to school he
learned these words.


He sat there for a minute, and I could see in his eyes
the little boy, who had not gotten over the hurt he
felt that day. He quietly told me that his own cousins
did not want to know him. He said he could not
understand this, but learned it was because he was
part Indian. He went home and remembered looking at
his mother to see what was wrong with her. She washed
his face and told him he was a special boy, that he
could be anything he wanted to be. I sat there and
this old man was that boy crossing the bridge whose
mother fished him out of the water. All those good
times are gone now, he was terminated as an Indian in
1961 under a government plan to assimilate Indians. He
is not White, he said they don't want him. The Indians
don't want me either, and so sat there and listened to
him talk until he could talk no more.


In that brief moment I walked a little bit with him
and could see it all just as he spoke it. He said he
would come back and see me, then got up and left. I
did not realize it but the day was half gone and I
missed my lunch. I can still see him sitting across
from me and his eyes travelling through me to a
different time and place when all that mattered was
just getting home, holding his mother's hand and a
father who worked hauling wood. One of our children
now grown looking for his family. An associate came
into me and asked how is this project, are the reports
going to be ready by five. Well you can see I have
written so I guess not, and to tell you the truth I
don't feel to bad about it.....


rustywire