Tag Archives: Trail of Tears

Crazy Horse Memorial and a Touchstone

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On Day 4 we drove to Custer, South Dakota, for lunch on our way to the Crazy Horse Memorial. We enjoyed out lunch so much at Custer Wolf Cafe. The service and food were delicious, and the cooler weather made everything better about this day.

When we were driving North to the Memorial we had no expectations. Other than my sister had heard that the entire Mt. Rushmore monument would fit in Crazy Horse’s monument with room to spare. Impressive. But what’s more impressive is that this project that began in the 1940’s has been built without any government assistance. I like that the Lakota Nation wanted to do this themselves and with the willing donations of others.

There is no known picture or impression of Crazy Horse, so the sculptor interviewed those native Americans who knew him. They described his appearance which led him to create his likeness on the statue.

At this point they’ve only finished his stoic face and his outstretched arm over the mane of his horse. This is the miniature created so you can see what the finished sculpture will look like…

This is the poem written by Korczak Zholkowski…

His Face
His Hand

While there we sat in on the demonstration of a Native American playing the songs of many different tribes. Imagine my delight when he began talking of the Creek Indians and their requirement to follow the Trail of Tears to Indian Territory, now known as Oklahoma.

The book I wrote about my Grandmother, Through The Eyes of Grace, is steeped in this rich history. My grandfather and Great-Grandfather were both listed in the Dawes Rolls. This allowed them to receive the full benefit of 160 acres of land each, granted to all known members of the Five Civilized Tribes—Cherokee, Creek, Seminole, Choctaw and Chickasaw Indians.

When he spoke of this horrific part of our history, he mentioned how many of the tribes had become Christian. As a result the song that united them on this trail was Amazing Grace. This just so happened to be my Grandmother’s favorite song. Such a touchstone that nearly made me cry as he played it on the Creek Nation’s native instrument. Listen in…

Crazy Horse died at the young age of 35, lying on the bare floor in Ft. Robinson.

This Memorial is due to be finished by 2035. I may never see it, but this visit inspired me to be grateful for the stories that shaped my ancestral history.

Do you know the stories that have inspired your history? I encourage you to seek and discover your hidden stories. They matter more than you know.

Tears

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I began the following post during the holidays. I’m just now sharing it with you…

We are doing what we usually do this time of year…driving to visit our kids and grandkids who live out of town. We spent Christmas with our son in Tennessee, and now we’re heading to spend New Year’s with our daughter in Georgia.

Today, driving backroads through North Georgia, we came to an historical marker that has significance in my family.

The Trail of Tears.

It begins in South Carolina and meanders it’s way to Oklahoma—formerly known as Indian Territory until 1907 when Oklahoma became a state.

The deal was that Indians would forfeit the land they knew and loved in exchange for 160 acres of deeded land in Indian Territory, west of the Mississippi River.

My ancestors reluctantly made the trek, but due to controversies within the tribe they broke off and settled in Texas. Horn Hill to be specific.

Many indigenous people died on this trail, thus the name. But many made it to their “promised land”. Although they had many tears too.

I don’t like change.

I can’t imagine a group of settlers telling me that what was once mine is no longer so. I must now relocate to and unknown land and start anew. Yet this is what thousands of indigenous peoples did. They had no choice but to take the next step.

My grandfather and great-grandfather ended up with two 160 acre plots of land east of Jenks, Oklahoma. Their names were recorded on the Dawes rolls.

Such a legacy. I would love to hear their take on this process. I do know that they eventually mortgaged their allotted land to invest in citrus in Central Florida. It was their next step.

They moved here in 1922 and never looked back. They even allowed their land to foreclose because they loved Florida so much more.

What is the next step in your family’s journey? It may involve lots of tears, but may also come with lots of hope for a brighter tomorrow. All we can do is take the next step in faith trusting in God who leads us into His perfect plan.