Edmonia Lewis was a groundbreaking sculptor who achieved international fame during the 19th century. She was born to a Black Haitian father and a mother of Native American (Ojibwe) and African descent.

Sculpture was not a common art form in America at that time. The fact that Lewis achieved what she did is nothing short of remarkable.

Working almost entirely in white Carrara marble, Lewis’s style was neoclassical, but her subject matter often related to her upbringing. She created art forms that expressed her interest in social justice, racial identity, and gender. 

The artwork she left behind is extraordinary. Eight of her pieces are part of the Smithsonian collection.

Early Life

Edmonia Lewis (1844?-1907) and her family lived near Albany, New York, in what is now Rensselaer.  Her mother was a gifted craftsperson and weaver and may have inspired Edmonia’s love of beauty.

When Edmonia was a child, both parents died within a year of each other. She and her older half-brother were sent to live with her mother’s sisters. The women supported themselves by selling their hand-woven baskets to tourists visiting Niagara Falls and Buffalo.

Education

When her brother was old enough to leave home, he traveled West and had success as a gold prospector. Edmonia must have shown academic promise as he made an extraordinary offer for the era. He arranged to send Edmonia to college. 

She started at New York Central College, but it did not go well. Her brother suggested that she try Oberlin, a school that included women and people of color. 

Despite the school’s intended inclusiveness, Edmonia Lewis struggled. Other students mocked and shunned her. She was forced to leave before her last semester.

Learning from Abolitionists

She left the school with contacts that led her to a town just outside Boston (Woburn, Massachusetts) where many abolitionists lived. Self-taught sculptor Edward Augustus Brackett (1818-1908) was among the inhabitants, and she asked permission to study with him.

Written reports of her time there talked of how Brackett handed a lump of clay with an assignment: Make a foot (or a hand) and return for a critique. When she returned with what she crafted, he sometimes crushed it for her try again; other times, he offered advice and correction.

Edmonia Lewis came to the attention of journalist and social reformer William Lloyd Gararison who introduced Edmonia to people he thought might be future customers for her work. Union Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, the white lawyer who commanded the all-Black 54^th Infantry during the Civil War, was a revered member of the community. Shaw commissioned her to create a bust of him.

When the sculpture was completed, other people offered to buy it as well. Lewis created 100 plaster copies and sold them all. This brought her commissions for other projects. She did medallion portraits of John Brown and William Lloyd Garrison.

She longed to study in Rome where many sculptors had gathered. With the success of her recent sales, she was able to afford to become part of that community.

Moves to Rome

Lewis was intrigued by the neoclassical artwork being produced in Rome. The availability of her favored marble –Carrara marble—and the influence of the artists made a rich environment for her. 

She was also heartened to find a small group of women who were also working in marble. (American sculptor Harriet Hosmer was among them.)

Though the subjects of her art were still often American, they were likely to be dressed in classical robes and posed as if they were from the ancient world. She also sculpted mythical figures such as those of Hiawatha from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s famous poem.

Challenges for Women

Being a female sculptor was not easy. Most men hired laborers to shape a large piece of stone so that it’s more manageable for artistic development.  But both Lewis and sculptor Hosmer saw that wouldn’t work for them. The moment men were let in to the women’s studios, rumors would circulate.

Even when the marble mass weighted several tons, the women did all the work themselves.

Work Chosen for Centennial Exposition

One of Edmonia Lewis’s big successes was having her work accepted for the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876. The work chosen for the exhibition was The Death of Cleopatra.

In art at that time, the Egyptian queen was usually portrayed as a sleeping beauty.  Lewis rejected that scenario. She saw Cleopatra’s death—said to have come about from the bite of the asp (snake)– as much different scene.

As she worked, she developed a more realistic portrayal. Cleopatra’s head tilts back at an odd angle. One arm hangs down as if in sleep (or death). The other hand is in her lap, holding the asp that brought about her death. It is an intriguing depiction, particularly when compared with the views of a sleeping woman.

Once The Death of Cleopatra was delivered to Philadelphia, it became a “must-see” attraction. When the Centennial Exhibition ended, the sculpture was sent to be exhibited at an industrial show in Chicago.  

After that, the two-ton sculpture that stood about five feet tall was put into storage and disappeared from view.

Strange but True

While the exact sequence of what happened to the sculpture is not easy to trace, the next time The Death of Cleopatra is thought to have been on display was at a saloon near Chicago. (The price of the sculpture must have fallen to next to nothing.)

At the saloon, The Death of Cleopatra was purchased by a racetrack owner. The man had owned a beloved racehorse named Cleopatra. He saw the sculpture as the perfect way to commemorate his beloved horse. He had it transported to his racetrack in Forest Park, Illinois.   

For decades, the statue sat by the entrance to the racetrack. Thousands of people must have passed by it, never knowing what the sculpture was or who the artist was who made it.

When the racetrack went belly up, the property was turned into a golf course. Still Edmonia Lewis’s masterpiece sat there—unidentified and unappreciated. Eventually vandals came along who hacked away at it. It was also painted over several times.

By the 1970s, it was largely forgotten, sitting in a storage yard under a tarp.

Re-Found

In the 1980s, a Forest Park resident who was active with the local historical society was shown the sculpture. The man must have known something about art, as he sent a photograph of the piece to someone at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. What did they make of it?

Good fortune prevailed. Despite the damage and the added paint, a curator at the Met thought of contacting Marilyn Richardson, an Edmonia Lewis scholar. Robinson had spent decades unearthing more information about Edmonia Lewis. Robinson called in other experts, and they definitively identify it as the lost masterpiece.

In 1994, it was donated to the Smithsonian American Art Museum. Restoration experts began their work. Between the many years of exposure to Illinois winters and the destruction created by vandals, there was much to do.

Career Slows

Long before the disappearance of The Death of Cleopatra, Edmonia Lewis was struggling to get by, By the time the Centennial Exposition concluded, interest in the neoclassical style of art was fading. She wasn’t certain how to develop her work so that she could continue to sell what she crafted.  

She remained in Rome for a time, but then departed, intending to return to the United States.

No one seemed to keep track of her.  Later it was clear that she stopped off in London and never left. Years later, a researcher found a death certificate for her, noting her death in London in 1907.

This was a tragic conclusion for a remarkable artist who expanded the possibilities for artists from all backgrounds.  It is significant that eight of her works are owned by the Smithsonian. She will no longer be lost to time.

Standing Bear (Ma-chu-nah-zha), a chief among the Ponca Tribe in the mid-19^th century, found himself imprisoned illegally for leaving Indian Territory to take his only son’s body home. The tribe was moved from their homeland by military force in 1877, though the Ponca had full ownership of their land in what is now Nebraska.

The Ponca people were a law-abiding, intelligent people who met most governmental requests with some form of accommodation. But the government was intent on moving Native Americans to areas that opened land for white settlers.

A father taking his son’s bones home to be buried became a cause white men could identify with, and eventually two pro bono attorneys helped Standing Bear make a legal case against the government.

Federal Judge Elmer Dundy decided in Standing Bear’s favor. He wrote that there was nothing wrong with [Native Americans] wanting to maintain their homeland on which they held title. He summarized saying that citizen’s rights “extend to the Indian as well as to the more fortunate white race.”

This was a landmark legal case and the first time a Native American was recognized as a citizen. It was a strong first step for the tribes, but it was not until 1924 and the passage of the Indian Citizenship Act that all Indians born in the United States were declared citizens.

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About the Ponca Tribe

The Ponca were once a part of the Omaha Tribe, from which they separated amicably. The Ponca homeland in the mid-1800s was in a fertile area along the Niobrara River near what eventually became the state line between Nebraska and South Dakota.

They lived in earth lodges and raised much of their own food. During the cold winter months, they went on buffalo hunts on the plains north of their homeland.

Governance of the tribe was accomplished by a group of chiefs, each of whom assumed specific responsibilities.  Standing Bear’s father had been a chief and Standing Bear (1829-1908) became one of the ten chiefs when his father died. He also had a brother, Big Snake.

The Ponca Tribe believed in peaceful transactions with others, including their neighbors and the U.S. government.

Like most other tribes, the Poncas were being moved around by the U.S. government during the 19^th century. In 1858, the Ponca granted the government access to their hunting grounds, and in turn, they received title to their homeland on the Niobrara River.  However, by 1865, the government had already violated that agreement, moving the Poncas down river to a less desirable spot.

Desire for Land by the Government

As early as 1854 and the Kansas-Nebraska Act, an increasing number of white settlers were moving West. The federal government had long discussed plans for relocating the Native Americans to land that could be considered their own (reservations). Some of the land was rich and fertile like the Black Hills were, other land was deemed theirs because it was less desirable than land the white settlers might want.

In 1875, Indian Agent A.J. Carrier spoke with President Ulysses Grant about moving the Ponca Tribe to Indian Territory (modern day Oklahoma). Carrier knew the Ponca were not pleased with having been moved off the land agreed to in the Treaty of 1858. He thought perhaps Indian Territory would solve this problem.

But other matters were more pressing. After the Battle of Little Bighorn, the government continued to fight with the Sioux for access to the gold in the Black Hills.  Eventually a settlement was reached giving certain additional land to the Sioux and the Lakota who had helped them. The Lakota Tribe was given the land that legally was still assigned to the Ponca.

It was up to Indian agent Carrier, soon joined by Indian Inspector E.C. Kemble, to begin moving the Ponca off the land along the river. Initial discussions went badly for the government. The Ponca chiefs were clear and in complete agreement with each other. They were not going to move.

Agent Meeting with the Chiefs

The Ponca had done as the government asked. They built houses like the White men’s homes, and they continued farming as they had done for many years. They were good neighbors to the nearby tribes as well as the white settlers. There was no reason for them to move on.

After a three-month stand-off by the chiefs, the agents finally got the men to agree to visit Indian Territory to look at the land.

The chiefs signed an agreement that they would accompany the agents to survey the new territory. The government agent, however, reported to Washington that the men had signed a document saying they would visit and then begin to relocate.

Journey to Indian Territory

After an arduous winter journey accompanied by the government agents, the Ponca chiefs arrived in Indian Territory and saw the barren land. They also met with other tribes that were relocated. These people shared how their tribes were decimated by malaria, which prevailed in the area.

After viewing several potential properties, the chiefs told the Indian agent they were not going to continue. They planned to return to their homeland and remain there. 

Refused to Continue

The Chiefs’ refusal angered the agents who feared for their jobs. They had told the men in Washington that the Ponca would move—it was just a matter of time. Inspector Kemble refused to give the Chiefs money for train tickets to go home.

Standing Bear and the other chiefs were not deterred. They made plans for several of the chiefs to leave together in the middle of the night. They had few provisions, no map, and little money for buying train tickets to ease their journey. All they knew was to try to follow the railroad tracks. The weather was poor, and they sometimes had to retrace their steps, but the chiefs were angry and determined.

Telegram to the President

As part of wanting the Native Americans to assimilate, the government encouraged tribes across the land to learn English. This gave the Ponca a tool they would use well.  

As they left Indian Territory, they sent a letter to a local newspaper explaining how they had been treated. President Rutherford B. Hayes was now President. They also spent some of their funds to send a telegram to President Rutherford B. Hayes, who was now president. The telegram outlined what they had been through. They did not believe the great white father would expect them to give up their rights to an area they called home.

They received no response from President Hayes, but Hayes took some action. He met with the government administrators in charge of the West to see if there were any better options for the Ponca. No conclusion was reached.

Panic Among the Government Agents

The Indian agents were alarmed when they saw that eight of the chiefs departed. They did not want these men to reach their people to tell their side of the story.  The agents sent word to the military to begin moving the Ponca off their land.

The chiefs arrived home amidst the chaos, and many tears were shed among their people. Standing Bear and his brother were imprisoned for a brief period of time. But the agent was soon told he could not hold the Indians without cause.

But the Indian agents were determined. The tribe had to move. The Ponca were to use their own wagons, loading up what they could. They had to leave behind farm equipment, and many household possessions. They sadly closed the doors on the homes they built where they expected to spend the rest of their lives.

The tribe was marched at bayonet-point to Indian Territory.  As many as one-third of the tribe died during the march. For many the trip was too arduous. Others came down with tuberculosis and no medical help was available. Among those who died were Standing Bear’s wife and also his grown daughter, Prairie Flower.

Indian Territory

When the Ponca were brought by the agents to their assigned land in Indian Territory, it was mid-summer. It was too late to plant crops, and there was very little wood for building shelters. The government provided tents, but those were soon in tatters from the high winds and rain.  During the winter of 1878, Standing Bear’s son, Bear Shield, died.

Bear Shield’s Wish

Before he died, Bear Shield asked his father, “please take me home to be buried in our homeland.” No father would want to deny their child’s final request.

Standing Bear and several other tribe members packed up quickly to carry Bear Shield’s body home to the sacred ground where other Ponca family members were interred. They did not ask for governmental permission as they were returning to their former land.

Again, the weather was horrendous, making the travel difficult.

Brigadier General Crook

When the Secretary of the Interior Carl Schurz heard that Native Americans left their new reservation without permission, he ordered Brigadier General George Crook to follow and catch them. The orders were to force them back to Indian Territory.

General Crook had achieved a fearsome reputation as an Indian fighter, but he had been in the West so long that he began to see things differently. He witnessed how heartless the government was to the various tribes and took pity on them. But Crook was an obedient military man and was not going to openly defy his superiors.

By the time, the military caught up with the Chiefs, the Ponca had stopped for a brief respite with friends in the Omaha tribe, helping where they could.

General Crook saw the sad state of the chiefs—several were in poor health, and no one had adequate clothing. Crook decided to imprison the men in the Omaha Barracks to give them time to recover.

Standing Bear was said to have been working in the fields when he was arrested.

Crook’s Next Move

According to Joe Starita, Indian expert and author of I am a Man: Chief Standing Bear’s Journey for Justice, General Crook took steps that would change the nature of events. One night after the arrest, Crook stopped in at the Omaha Daily Herald newspaper to pay his respects to the editor, Thomas Henry Tibbles. According to Starita, Crook explained to Tibbles about the Ponca unfair imprisonment. He suggested there was a story there about a father being denied his right to take the bones of his son home for burial.

 The next day, Tibbles (1840-1928) paid a call to Fort Omaha to visit the tribe members.  That night he went back to his office and began writing. But his story would not be published for a couple of days. It was a Sunday, and as a pastor, he knew the power of the pulpit. He spent Sunday going from church to church in Omaha, explaining the Ponca plight.

Tibbles Was Moved by the Predicament

Thomas Tibbles also tapped into the legal community. As editor of the newspaper, he knew almost everyone in town. He stopped in to visit John L. Webster, a friend and an attorney. Webster was interested in what Tibbles told him, so he reached out to another local attorney, Andrew J. Poppleton, chief attorney of the Union Pacific Railroad.  

While Standing Bear and the other chiefs fully understood that wrong had been done them on multiple occasions, Tibbles and the attorneys met with Standing Bear and explained the legal steps that could be taken. The three men felt a strong case could be made for unfair imprisonment and coercion of the tribe. Webster and Poppleton agreed to work pro bono. With Standing Bear’s agreement, Webster and Poppleton prepared a writ of habeas corpus and filed it with the U.S. District Court in Omaha.

Not Just Any Judge

Tibbles also knew that not just any judge should hear the case. The judge he wanted, however, was bear hunting. Tibbles worked his local network among frontiersmen and mountain men, and soon Judge Elmer Dundy was located. He agreed to return to Omaha to hear the case. 

Serving as Standing Bear’s interpreter was Susette LaFlesche, the eldest daughter in the La Flesche family (Omaha tribe) and sister to the first woman doctor, Susan La Flesche Picotte. 

The Trial

In late April of 1879, the trial known as United States ex rel. Standing Bear v. Crook took place. (Though Crook was sympathetic, he was also the one who carried out the government order.)

The attorneys argued that the Native Americans should be covered by the Fourteenth Amendment.

No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

The courtroom was packed. Local people and reporters from distant newspapers were there. As the trial was ending, the judge announced that Standing Bear had requested speaking on his own behalf.

With Susette La Flesche serving as interpreter, Standing Bear held out his right hand as if with an offering and spoke quietly but forcefully:  

‘That hand is not the color of yours, but if I pierce it, I shall feel pain. If you pierce your hand, you also feel pain. The blood that will flow from mine will be of the same color as yours. I am a man. We are made by the same God.”

Landmark Decision

It was after 10 p.m. when Judge Dundy closed the courtroom, announcing that it would take a few days for him to review all the material. Dundy had treaties to review, government reports, and of course, all the testimony to re-read.

On May 12, 1879, Judge Dundy ruled that the federal had failed to show a basis under law for the Poncas’ arrest and captivity and that “an Indian is a person” within the meaning of the law. It was a landmark case, establishing that the Ponca were people and entitled to its rights and protections.

When the decision was announced, author Starita wrote that General Crook stood and went over and shook Standing Bear’s hand.

Among the newspapers covering the trial was the Kenosha, Wisconsin Telegraph. The reporter wrote: “Judge Dandy…said that before the case was tried, that during his 15 years of judgeship he had never been called on to decide a case ich excited so much sympathy in his heart. On the one side was the poor Indian asking for liberty and on the other side a Christian nation trying to send him back to the Indian Territory.” (Kenosha Telegram, May 29, 1879.)

Dundy’s Decision

With that, General Crook set the tribesmen free. Standing Bear wanted to continue his trip as soon as possible, but he owed a debt to Tibbles and the two attorneys. Because he had no money, he selected several of his possessions to present to Tibbles and the two attorneys in appreciation.

He and the Ponca then started for their homeland.

But after they left, Tibbles realized the ruling left some details unresolved and that Standing Bear may not have fully grasped some legal issues. He needed to follow them to explain.

He went to the Omaha people and asked to borrow two of their fastest horses.  Eight hours later, he and his companion caught up with Standing Bear’s group who had paused for the night. Tibbles explained that while they could no longer be held prisoner, they did not yet have a place to go. Their former land—though now abandoned by the Lakota—was not yet theirs. If they were to set foot on it, they could be re-arrested.

With that, Standing Bear and his people set up camp along the Niobrara River opposite the land that had been theirs.  Soon they identified an island in the river that was owned by no one. They moved their camp there.

The Poncas That Remained in Indian Territory

The Ponca that remained in Indian Territory were doing the best they could, but it was a struggle. Big Snake, Standing Bear’s brother, tired of the area, and decided he would live with the Cheyenne. 

When the newly assigned Indian agent, William Whiteman, heard Big Snake intended to move, he ordered the man arrested.  Big Snake was at the agent’s office at the time. He resisted arrest and was shot at close range. He died on the floor of the goverenment office.

After the Verdict

The courtroom had been filled and there was heightened interest from newspapers in the East. Henry Tibbles knew he needed to spread the word. After returning from his mad dash to warn Standing Bear, he set off for the East on a hastily planned lecture tour. He saw that the story was beginning to have some effect.

Tibbles also ran an article in his newspaper, highlighting quotes from a lengthy article about the case by John A. Owen in The Chicago Tribune:

“The Government has so often violated its treaties and contracts with the Indians that such violation creates no surprise in the minds of the American people. We have become so demoralized in our ideas, both of absolute right and of civil law, that the average white man, as he looks over the Western Territories and sees an Indian reservation which is guaranteed to a tribe by as solemn a contract as a sovereign nation can execute, ratified by the august Senate of the United States, and proclaimed as the law of the land by the President, regards all this as but a trifling obstacle in the way of his taking possession of it.”

East Coast Lecture Tour

Tibbles was pleased with the reaction to his brief lecture tour about the case, but he returned to explain to Standing Bear and his interpreter, Susette La Flesche, that they needed to come with him on the next trip.

Though La Flesche was later to marry Tibbles, they were unmarried at the time. Her father reluctantly gave permission for her to go, but only if her brother was part of the traveling group.

With that, Standing Bear, Tibbles, Susette La Flesche and her brother journeyed from city to city along the East Coast telling the story of the Ponca and other tribes.

Standing Bear looked every inch the part, wearing his headdress and his bear tooth necklace. Over time, he picked up some English so that he could tell part of the story on his own.

Return to the Niobrara River

After several months, traveling from city to city, Standing Bear missed his people and his life along the river. His brother Big Snake was murdered during this time, and he wanted to return to the familiar.

When he got back to the island where the tribe had determined they could live without special permission, Standing Bear was in for a surprise. About 170 Ponca remained in the area and lived on the island. They crossed the river each day. With farm equipment borrowed from the Omaha people, they planted 250 acres of crops. 

Though the land ownership was still uncertain, Standing Bear’s people had outdone themselves doing what the Ponca people do best—being peacefully self-sufficient.

Congressional Investigations

Ultimately, there were two Congressional investigations about the Ponca, including one focused on the death of Big Snake. The government eventually made two separate arrangements. The Ponca who had remained in Indian Territory were given title to their land there. And Standing Bear was finally given back the rights to the Ponca land that the government had given to the Lakota.

And out of all this, came an awareness of the fact that the original landholders in this country were not being well-treated.

As Brigadier General George Crock said: “It seems to me an odd feature of our judicial system that the only people in this country who have no right under the law are the original owners of the soil: an Irishman, German, Chinaman, Turk, or Tartar will be protected in life and property, but the Indian commands respect for his rights only so long as he inspires terror from the rifle.”

Standing Bear

Standing Bear lived in the allotted land in Nebraska for the rest of his life. Since his death from oral cancer did not occur until 1908, he was alive to be aware of some of the ways in which he was honored as waterways and land areas were named for him.

There is now a Chief Standing Bear Memorial Bridge, a Missouri National Recreational River and several other places named in his honor. 

 In the mid-1990s, a memorial park in Ponca City, Oklahoma, was named for Chief Standing Bear. There is a museum there that explains his story.

Statuary Hall in Washington

And now, Standing Bear is honored in Washington, D.C. Statuary Hall features two notable people from each state. Standing Bear was added in 2019 to replace William Jennings Bryan. A statue of Willa Cather will soon be the other Nebraskan commemorated. 

In the meantime, a group in Lincoln, Nebraska, wanted a local way to tell Standing Bear’s story. They created a website, filmed a new documentary, and put together a fundraising package to raise money for a Chief Standing Bear Trail that will go from Chief Standing Bear’s homeland in Nebraska through Kansas and into Oklahoma.

The group writes that they see it as a way to expand awareness of this man who gave so much order to fight for citizenship for Native Americans. For more information about this project, click Chief Standing Bear.org.

Sacagawea’s story is everywhere. She is part of every book written about Lewis and Clark’s journey. There are many, many children’s books about her, and she is said to have more statues created in her image than any other woman in America.

No doubt about it, Americans know of Sacagawea.

But do they know the true story? Maybe not. Her story has been told so often that parts of it have become a folk tale.

Valuable Aide to Lewis and Clark

No one disputes a very important aspect of her life: Sacagawea and her infant son accompanied the Corps of Discovery on their trip West. She was invaluable to them in many ways. The Native American tribes they encountered were open to her entreaties, and sometimes she could translate from their languages or through sign language. She knew some of the trails, so she was a helpful wayfinder for the white men who had never traveled West.

She was a strong swimmer. Capsized boats were among the dangers of traveling through rough waters. In one particular incident, Sacagawea was in one of the last boats. Her baby was strapped in a carrier she wore, but she still felt she was a strong enough swimmer to help. She released herself from the boat and swam out to rescue books and supplies before they all sank to the river’s bottom.

She frequently saved the men by showing which plants and berries were edible and which weren’t. She also knew how to make herbal remedies.

Without Sacagawea, the men would have been hard-pressed to accomplish all they did.

The Story in Dispute

But another story has not been told. It is the actual story of her background.  

The time-honored tale of Sacagawea says she was part of the Shoshone tribe. (A few stories said she was Hidatsa but was captured and raised by the Shoshones.) For years, no one thought to question it.

Native Americans knew differently. Many of their stories are part of an oral tradition, but they are still told carefully and well. As more Native Americans attended schools, of course, it was only logical to write down family stories, including Sacagawea’s.

The story that rippled through Native Americans was that Sacagawea was part of the Hidatsa tribe; she was not Shoshone. (The Hidatsa Tribe is now part of the Three Affiliated Tribes–the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation. The MHA Nation is based on the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation in central North Dakota.) 

They Knew the White Man’s Story Was Wrong

Though the story of Sacagawea was mis-told in most American forums, the Native Americans wrestled with many other important challenges. For the most part, they didn’t have the opportunity to correct those who told it incorrectly.

But then there was hope. In 1923, the correct story was documented by a white military man, a Major A.B. Welch. The Hidatsa people hoped that this would change their fortune.

Who Was A.B. Welch?

Major A. B. Welch (1874-1945) was born in Iowa to a minister’s family in 1874. His father was a church leader and was often asked to move to different communities. He always brought his family with him. In 1880, his family moved to southern South Dakota (along the Missouri River near Fort Randall) to homestead. The young Welch boy became familiar with several different tribes and was fascinated by them.

One story goes that when Sioux braves came to attack the Welch homestead in South Dakota, Mrs. Welch countered with an offer to make flapjacks for the men. The children were all hiding under the beds but crept out slowly. With that beginning, Welch saw that Native Americans were people no different from his family.

Welch Background

Welch attended Puget Sound University in Tacoma, Washington. He then began his military career, serving in the Volunteer Infantry during the Philippine Insurrection (1898-1899). When he returned to the United States, he was commissioned as Captain in the First North Dakota National Guard. This placed him in the Dakotas. He lived near the Mandan tribe in North Dakota for many years. He ran a store, served as postmaster, and was a general friend to the Native Americans.

World War I

When World War I began, Welch was called to duty. He served in France for two years as a Major in the Field Artillery Section of the Third Army. He thought so highly of the Native Americans that he offered to put together a regiment, but the U.S. military turned him down.

When he returned to North Dakota, he was assigned to survey the reservation so that land might eventually be apportioned to individuals to tribal members. Welch always traveled with a legal pad for his own notes. He often asked about family backgrounds and other stories of the different tribe members he encountered.

To the Hidatsa Tribe, this offered an opportunity for someone to tell Sacagawea’s story. (The Hidatsa spelled her name, Sakakawea, but confusion was rampant since the Shoshone story spelled it Sacajawea. In 2002, near the time of the bicentennial, the Three Affiliated Tribes voted to standardize the spelling: Sacagawea (meaning Bird Woman). They have used that spelling since that time. 

Stories from Bulls Eye and Elders

Bulls Eye, the grandson of Sacagawea, asked to meet with Major Welch and tell his story. Bulls Eye narrated his grandmother’s story—where she was from, who her relatives were, what her Shoshone connection was (her father ceremonially adopted a Shoshone brave).

He also offered clarity about what happened to her after her travels with Lewis and Clark (another story that is told multiple ways). Bulls Eye knew and remembered Sacagawea.

Major Welch realized that it was an important story, so he requested that others be called to attend. They might be helpful with the story and/or dates that Bulls Eye might not have known.

The tribe was pleased that the story was told. Many felt that with a white man—a military man—telling the story, the truth would become known. It would just be a matter of time.

But nothing happened. Welch may not have known what to do with his papers, or maybe he tried to leave the papers with an organization, but none were receptive?  What is known is that the Shoshone story continued to prevail.  

A Look Back to the Challenge for Lewis and Clark

Before addressing what happened to Welch’s papers, we need to take a look at how the original story went wrong.

From the earliest stories, Sacagawea was said to be Shoshone. But human nature explains this beginning. Lewis and Clark were preparing for a never-before-taken journey into unknown land. They knew the qualifications of the people they were looking for, and they needed to work quickly to select the best staff they could find.

The Hidatsa Village

Toussaint Charbonneau (1767-1843) was a French-Canadian trader and explorer. He was living in a Hidatsa Village in what would become the Dakotas. He was probably not the best translator available, but he desperately wanted the job.

He may have partially sold himself by including Sacagawea in his plans. (He had more than one wife, and it’s not clear why he chose the woman who was with child at the time.)  The expedition knew it would travel through Shoshone country, so perhaps Charbonneau described her as Shoshone. (However, the couple met in a Hidatsa village as Charbonneau was married to Sacagawea’s older sister, Otter Woman.) Some sources say she was kidnapped from the Shoshone by the Hidatsa, but there are many reasons to doubt this. (This is fully described in the book mentioned at the end of the article.)

Snake Medicine

It’s also possible that Charbonneau may not have even said “Shoshone.” Sacagawea knew many herbal remedies, including the use of snake venom in different cures. Charbonneau likely said she knew “snake medicine.” This may have led people to believe she was a Snake Indian (part of the Shoshones.)

But there is little evidence that she actually knew Shoshone culture. Later in their travels, the Corps of Discovery reached a Shoshone village, but none of the journals describe a warm homecoming or greeting.  Sacagawea asked after her Shoshone brother, but this referred to the Shoshone brave “adopted” by Sacagawea’s Hidatsa father. (Native Americans have a more inclusive concept of family than do Americans.)

When the Corps of Discovery traveled into Shoshone country, Sacagawea did not speak the tribal language adequately but was able to communicate with sign language. This was customary among all the tribes since there were so many languages spoken.

Translation Not Easy

The Corps of Discovery lacked anyone who could translate directly when talking to the numerous groups they met. Journals indicate that Charbonneau was not a great translator. Another member of the Corps often needed to explain to him in French what Lewis and Clark wanted to communicate.

Then came the process whereby Charbonneau translated for Lewis and Clark what the others said. He would do his best to understand the people they encountered, but several other members were often involved in figuring out what was said.

Sacagawea a Definite Asset

Despite the fact that Sacagawea was not comfortable with the Shoshone language, she was definitely a plus for Lewis and Clark. As tribes saw the large group of mostly white men approach, a Native American woman traveling with a child communicated that the group was not threatening.

She was then able to sign to ask for directions or to negotiate the purchase of horses…whatever it was the Corps needed.

All in all, Sacagawea brought to Lewis and Clark knowledge of edibles along the route, medicine, knowledge of some of the trails, and the ability to make a good start with any tribes they encountered. Having her was a definite plus, and no one would have had the time—or likely the curiosity—to worry about her heritage.

(There were also variations on the story of her adulthood and death. The Hidatsa Tribe knew what happened to her late in life. Read it here.)

“They Got It Wrong”

But members of the Three Affiliated Tribes (MHA Nation) all knew about Sacagawea and hoped for a way that the correct story could be told. At the very least, they wanted their children to know and to carry forward the truth.

In a phone interview in December 2021, I talked to Dr. Dennis Fox, a tribal member, and his wife, Dr. Sandra Fox, who were key to getting the story written down in a just-published book, Our Story of Eagle Woman Sacagawea: They Got It Wrong published by Paragon Books.   

“To us, the important thing was sharing the story with our grown children so they would know,” says Dr. Sandra Fox. “One year at the holiday, Dennis and I presented to our adult children folders with material that documented Sacagawea’s story. We urged them to share it with others so the truth would be known.”

A few months later, their sons came back to them: “We want you to write a book. You know the full story.”

The Welch Papers

While one would assume that historians would have interviewed Native Americans to learn more about their past, America is still left with incomplete stories and many questions. If scholars had access to the Welch papers, it would have been invaluable. Unfortunately, no one knew of this collection for a very long time. As it happens, we are lucky the papers were located at all.

During the late 1920s, people around the reservation were aware of A.B. Welch’s work and knew the Bulls Eye story but not more than that from Welch. Many had comfortably shared their stories with him. It is not clear how Welch intended to use the information. He had no children, and no library or museum took the papers.

By late in the 20^th century, few people were interested in learning if Welch had additional information. One woman who did, however, was Marilyn Hudson, curator of the Fort Berthold Tribal Museum. She sometimes entered Welch’s name into the search engine on her computer’s browser, hoping that at some point someone might enter information about him and about his collection. (Welch had also amassed many collectibles during his career.)

EBay Provides the Clue

The papers, the artifacts, and the stories might have been lost forever, if it hadn’t been for eBay. In 2000, just five years after the online auction forum began, someone listed Sitting Bull’s rifle for sale. A tribe member named Bird Ford received a frantic phone call from his cousin, Eddie Hall. How could someone be selling Sitting Bull’s rifle? Where did it come from? Could it be authentic?

One of the tribe members telephoned the seller, questioning him about the item. The seller responded with the fact that, indeed, the gun belonged to Sitting Bull. He knew it did because he it was tagged with a note and signed by Major A.B. Welch, the seller’s great uncle.

This was big news! Beyond the appearance of the rifle was the fact that there was a possible lead on A.B. Welch.

Looking to Connect

With that information, the caller phoned LaDonna Brave Bull Allard, the tribal curator of Standing Rock (a reservation just west of MHA Nation).  She knew about Welch’s work on the reservation and was excited by the thought that some of his collection might have surfaced. She, too, placed a call to the seller. From there the story came out.

In the subsequent phone call, Allard learned that Major Welch had no children. His five nieces and nephews inherited his documents and collections. They had all split the documents, photographs, stories, histories and cultural artifacts. None of them considered the possibility that tribes might be eager to see what they had.

Allard then phoned Marilyn Hudson, curator of the Fort Berthold Tribal Museum, and they made a plan. They invited Welch’s descendants to Standing Rock and asked that they bring some of what they had.

Hudson and Allard also invited some of the families whose information might have been found.  

Emotional Gathering

The meeting at Standing Rock was described as an overwhelming, emotional affair. As they looked through the papers and sifted through the photographs, tribe members cried. In many cases, this was the first opportunity they had to see what a relative looked like or to read his or her story.

When the Welch family saw the reaction, they promised to return with more. They also have put some of the information online as “Oral History of the Dakota Tribes, 1800s-1945.” www.welchdakotapapers.com

The material gathered from Welch provides additional confirmation that Sacagawea was Hidatsa.

Summit of the Three Affiliated Tribes

As the tribal historians, museum curators, and tribal Elders worked through the new information and oral histories of Sacagawea, they realized it was now time to call a summit of all who would have been connected to Sacagawea so the story could be complete.

On July 16, 2015, Hidatsa descendants of Sacagawea and other members of the tribe—including the tribe’s historian– met for a summit in Mandaree, North Dakota, on the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation. The intention of the MHA Nation (Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara Nation) was to record the story of Sacagawea’s family tree.

“They all brought papers, and they all knew the oral stories that had been told through their families,” says Dr. Sandra Fox.

“As we worked, we all shook our heads over the same question: ‘why haven’t historians listened to the stories. And now that the papers are available, why are we the only ones paying attention?’”

The Collective Work

When the members of the summit came together, they knew they needed to take charge of the narrative.

“We agreed on one thing,” says Dr. Dennis Fox. “This is our story. We are documenting it for ourselves and for our children’s children. They need to know the real story of Sacagawea.”

Dr. Sandra Fox and Dr. Dennis Fox assembled the book, with the aid Dr. Gerald Baker, (Yellow Wolf), Calvin Grinnell (Running Elk), Bernard Fox (Yellow Dog), Carol Fredericks Newman (Sweet Grass), and Wanda Fox Sheppard (Plenty Sage).

Now in a book published by Paragon Books and overseen by the Sacagawea Project Board of the Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara Nation, the story has been told.

Because of the number of variations on Sacagawea’s story, they wanted to present all the evidence in such a way that scholars and other readers could learn the truth for themselves.

Final Piece for Now

The MHA Nation vowed that they would leave no stone unturned. This led them to turning to science now that family heritage can be proven through DNA. They spent months gathering and submitting DNA to family DNA heritage sites. Several family trees were built out of the information gathered. The trees all lead to the same conclusion. Sacagawea was one of them. (Charts of relevant family trees are included in the book.)

After reading through all the material, one can’t help but wonder, “Why hasn’t anyone listened?”

See for yourself what has been documented.

“The Story of Eagle Woman Sacagawea: They Got It Wrong.” The book is available as a PDF but also in hardcover from SpecialBooks.com. Many photographs are included.

For more on Sacagawea’s story, see Sacagawea: Only Woman to Accompany Lewis and Clark.

Additional note: Spellings differed widely in the journals kept by the travelers. One need only spend a few minutes to find multiple spellings of so many of the names, top among them Charbonneau and Sacagawea. What no one has acknowledged is that the different spellings mean different things in tribal language. Either tribe might use a name, but the spellings mean different things and connect the person to different tribes. Sacajawea in Shoshone means “boat launcher.” Sacagawea (or Sakakawea as the Hidatsa originally called her) means “Bird Woman.”

During the late 19^th century, Native Americans had healers within their tribes, but few white doctors would undertake the care of a Native American. Susan La Flesche Picotte, a member of the Omaha tribe, was the first Native American to receive a medical degree.

Native American healers could be very effective, but as white people’s illnesses—tuberculosis, cholera, measles, and other contagious sicknesses—spread to Native Americans, some of the tribes saw that a medical doctor that was one of their own might benefit their people.

Susan La Flesche Picotte (1865-1915), daughter of the last-recognized chief of the Omaha Nation, became that person. Bucking gender stereotypes and overcoming the basic difficulties involved in getting an education, La Flesche made her way through an arduous process to receive a medical degree. This achievement made it possible for La Flesche to bring additional medical knowledge back to her people in the Omaha Nation (eastern Nebraska).

She traveled the tribal lands tirelessly to provide care for those in need. She urged improvements in public health for tribe members, and eventually, she raised funds for the first-ever privately-funded hospital on the Omaha reservation.

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Susan La Flesche’s Background

Susan La Flesche was born in 1865, the youngest of four daughters, in eastern Nebraska, which is also the land of the Omaha Nation. Her father, Chief Joseph La Flesche (Iron Eye), was the last recognized chief of the tribe. Like the chief before him, Iron Eye (1822-1888) believed that the Omaha people needed to assimilate  to survive.

Iron Eye came to this opinion after he and a tribal council traveled to Washington, D.C. to negotiate details on one of their early treaties. He saw the societal changes that were coming and couldn’t imagine how the Native American culture could remain untouched. Many tribe members disagreed with him, so he faced a constant balancing act between the past and what he saw as the future.

Child-rearing

Iron Eye and his wife Mary raised their children to speak English as well as their native language. Though Iron Eye could not read or write, he believed strongly that his children needed a white man’s education. Each child spoke English, Omaha, and Otoe—the language of a neighboring tribe. They also attended the mission school on the reservation and were then sent on to a boarding school of Iron Eye’s choice. (Many Native American children were forced into government boarding schools like the Carlisle Indian School.)

The chief also stepped away from some of the cultural rituals practiced by the tribe. The daughters of an Omaha chief were to receive the “Mark of Honor,” a tattoo across their foreheads. Iron Eye resisted this practice for his daughters, feeling that it would increase their difficulty in becoming part of what he saw as the America of the future.

Like her sisters, Susan La Flesche attended the mission school and then went on to attend the Elizabeth Institute for Young Ladies in New Jersey. Susan was 14 when she and her older sibling, Marguerite, took the train east. The family could not afford for the girls to return home for vacations, so she and Marguerite adapted to living in the East for three years.

Susan was a strong student. She also took French, adding it to the languages she already spoke.

Returning to Teach

When she was 17, Susan and Marguerite returned home to teach at the mission school. They also absorbed roles around the household and took on the other tasks expected of all community women.

In the Omaha tribe, the women were well-respected in many ways, and particularly so in their roles as healers. Most women learned from their mothers the basics of medical care. Susan encountered a life-changing moment when she was summoned to a home where a woman was seriously ill. Susan and other women arrived to do what they could for her, but they realized they needed the medical doctor from the Indian Agency to come to help this woman.

Four times, a messenger was sent to the Indian Affairs agency for the agency’s doctor. He never arrived, and the woman died.

Someone later noted that his remark was: “It was only an Indian.” 

Continuing the Culture

Chief Iron Eye respected those who wanted to preserve the old ways, but he set an example by adapting to new ways. He built a wood-frame house for his family and learned to farm. His agricultural efforts were successful, but not all who followed his lead managed to make a living. Iron Eye was always aware of what was happening to those around him, and he struggled to find a solution.

The early treaty with the U.S. paid the Omaha people for the buffalo hunting ground where they traveled each summer to bring back food for the year.

The treaty granted them the right to continue their hunts. In Iron Eye’s view this was a good compromise. Unfortunately, the incursion of the railroads and the arrival of white people severely diminished the herds of buffalo. Soon there was nothing to hunt.

Communal Land

Like many other tribes, the Omaha people held their land communally. The buffalo hunts that sustained the tribes throughout the year were conducted on land that was accepted as “Omaha hunting grounds.” Then they would all return to the land where they lived together to process their bounty.

But when Joseph La Flesche went to Washington to negotiate the Omaha treaty, the government was pushing for individual land allotment rather than communal ownership.  La Flesche became convinced that if each person had a stake in the community’s success, this would be a good thing so he went along with the plan.

But the U.S. government then held a powerful hand. After taking over the Omaha land, they deemed that while each Native American male would receive the land promised. But it was stipulated that there would be a 25-year period before the Omaha tribe members could take ownership. Even after the waiting period, only those declared “competent” would be given control of their land. Most of the Omaha people were declared “incompetent of ownership” and were assigned guardians. 

Susan La Flesche took on many causes for her people, and this was among them. On one of her trips to Washington, Susan La Flesche met with the Secretary of the Interior. She must have been persuasive as shortly thereafter, most Omaha were finally granted deeds to their lands. This brought them one step closer to exercising full rights of citizenship.

Alice Fletcher: Studying the Omaha People

Alice Fletcher (1838-1923), an ethnologist arrived in the early 1880s to live among the tribe to document their story for her employer, the Peabody Museum in New Haven, Connecticut. She became good friends with the La Flesche family. When Fletcher became quite ill, Susan took responsibility for caring for and feeding Fletcher throughout her illness.

As Fletcher recovered, she heard that Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute (Hampton, Virginia) was expanding. The school started in 1868 to provide newly-freed slaves with knowledge to farm and/or run schools to educate others. By the early 1880s, Samuel Chapman Armstrong sought to bring in Native American students as well. Many of these students arrived with no educational experience at all, so Armstrong thought it would be helpful to bring in some Native Americans who could set a good example.

Alice Fletcher knew that Susan and Marguerite La Flesche were the perfect candidates. This time, the two young women were sent off to Hampton, Virginia, to study.

Medical School?

In the late 1880s, only two medicals school in the nation accepted women. The general belief was that advanced education harmed a woman’s fertility and softened her brain. Despite this, the New England Female Medical College and the Philadelphia-based Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania, offered women opportunities.

Dr. Martha Waldron, the physician at the Hampton Institute, was a granulate of the school in Philadelphia. She was friends with Alice Fletcher, so the two women discussed Susan La Flesche’s potential. No Native American woman had ever applied to the Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania, but they urged Susan to do so.

The school was receptive to her application, but they had no scholarship money for her. Susan La Flesche’s funding would have to come from elsewhere. Waldron, Fletcher, and La Flesche set out on a nerve-wracking hunt for scholarship money. Some funds were secured from the U.S. Office of Indian Affairs. Eventually another organization put up funds.

When the Connecticut Indian Association made their offer to help fund La Flesche’s education, they asked for two commitments: She should plan to visit Connecticut periodically and give speeches on topics related to health. They also stressed that she needed to remain single during medical school and for a few years afterward. If she wed, they feared married life would pull her focus away from medicine.

No Train Ticket

When the last funds were raised, Susan found she still had no money for a train ticket to Philadelphia. After letters were sent by La Flesche and Fletcher, the Connecticut Indian Association agreed to send additional funds.

Though harried from her last-minute flurry to find that last bit of needed money, La Flesche arrived in Philadelphia just as classes were to begin.

First Native American Physician

Susan La Flesche excelled at medical school. She graduated from the three-year program in only two years (1889), becoming the first Native American to receive a medical degree.

She then applied for a highly competitive internship in Philadelphia and was one of only five students accepted for the advanced work.

Though delighted to have accomplished what she had, it was not without some sadness. She had fallen in love with a young man from the Sioux tribe whom she met at the Hampton Institute. The two stayed in touch while she attended medical school. However, she promised the Connecticut Indian Agency to remain single until she was farther along in her practice. With sadness, she broke off the relationship.

Returning Home

In returning to the Omaha reservation, she began her work. La Flesche was soon  appointed government doctor by the Indian Affairs commissioner for the entire Omaha Reservation.

Because she spoke the native language and understood the customs, her western medicine—while differing from the way of the healers—was accepted by the people whom she visited. She also worked tirelessly, traveling the 1350-square mile reservation to see patients at home from 8 am until 10 pm.

And once home, she wasn’t finished. She knew people might need her during the night, so each evening she placed a light in her window. If someone needed her at night, she wanted them to know where to find the doctor.

Public Health Measures

As Dr. La Flesche traveled the reservation, she saw that she needed to teach the Omaha people about public health measures that could keep them from getting sick. As people settled in more confined areas, sanitation issues needed to be addressed. While “germ theory” was not yet well accepted by the public, La Flesche knew that simple changes could make a difference in the health of her people.

She urged having screens on doorways and windows to prevent flies from collecting on food and spreading illness. As a people, the Omahas were also accustomed to finding a communal drinking cup available at water sources. Dr. La Flesche urged people to travel with their own cups—that communal cups spread disease.

She also fought against alcohol. Her father enforced very serious punishments for Native Americans who drank, and when he passed away in 1888, Susan La Flesche saw that tribe members again turned to liquor to solve their problems or ease their pain.

White traders often offered bottles of liquor before negotiating with an Omaha native about buying land. The Native American inevitably got the worst of the deal.

La Flesche’s Health Was Not Good

While she worked tirelessly for the people, the stress, travel, and worry took its toll. In the mid-1890s, she asked for time off to regain her own health and to care for her elderly mother who was not doing well. The Indian agent in charge of the Omaha Nation turned down Susan’s request.

Dr. La Flesche was at a breaking point, so with sadness, she resigned from her post.

Marriage

Susan La Flesche had a second chance for marital happiness. Her brother-in-law became ill so his brother arrived to help take care of the family farm.  Susan La Flesche and the brother, Henry Picotte, were soon in love and married a year or so later. They moved to Bancroft, Nebraska, where she could maintain a private practice serving people from all backgrounds.

Despite her own poor health, she and Henry had two boys: Caryl (1896-1978) was born in 1896 and Pierre (1898-1982) in 1898.

A Working Mother

The Omaha people believed that women were as important as men, and that child-rearing was to be shared. However, the culture dictated that while children were young, they were primarily with their mothers.

When Susan was faced with deciding between her children and her patients, she soon found that everyone understood. “Bring the baby with you!” she was frequently told, and so she did. She and the children would go out by buggy. While she attended to the patient, someone else in the household was more than happy to take care of the young ones.

Henry Picotte was a caring man, and their marriage was a good one. But like many of the other Native Americans, he became sick with tuberculosis—a disease for which there was not yet a cure.

Even with his wife’s ministrations, he wasn’t getting better. Soon he turned to liquor to ease his pain. Though Dr. La Flesche did all that she could to save the man she loved, he died of tuberculosis and alcoholism in 1905.

Ready for a Change

With her mother and sons in tow, she moved into a modern wood-frame home nearby in Walthill, Nebraska.

She set up an in-home medical practice. She was again very busy seeing her people but also open to caring for her white neighbors that needed medical care. Unlike the white doctors who refused to see Native Americans, Dr. La Flesche’s door was open to all.

“My office hours are any and all hours of the day and night.”

Dr. Susan La Flesche

Inheritance Struggles

With her husband’s death, Susan La Flesche added a new problem to her life. The laws concerning inheritance did not favor Native Americans. There were particular difficulties for women and minors to get what was due them.

After numerous letters over a couple of years, Dr. La Flesche gained property rights for herself and her sons. She invested the money in rental properties which helped support the family.

Dr. La Flesche was active in her church and her community, and still made time for working with state medical societies. La Flesche was a member of the Nebraska State Medical Society, served on the board of the Nebraska Federation of Women’ Clubs, and lobbied at the state level for improved laws for public health. 

Lifelong Dream

In the years before her death, she dedicated herself to fundraising for a modern hospital for her people. By 1913, construction of a hospital in Walthill was underway. When it opened, it was the realization of an important dream for Dr. La Flesche.

Sadly, she died in 1915. For years she struggled with her heath and suffered great pain. During 1914-15, she underwent several surgeries for what was finally diagnosed as bone cancer. She died after one of her surgeries.

Dr. Susan La Flesche Picotte Memorial Hospital

For many years, the building served as a badly needed hospital. Today it is a National Park Service property. In 1993, the Dr. Susan La Flesche Picotte Memorial Hospital was declared a National Historic Landmark. It houses a history of the Omaha and the Winnebago tribe, as well as a section dedicated to the life of Susan La Flesche Picotte.

A bronze sculpture of Susan La Flesche Picotte, created by sculptor Benjamin Victor, was unveiled on the Centennial Mall in Lincoln, Nebraska, in October of 2021.

To read about another Native American who worked to improve public health for the Navajo people, read about Annie Dodge Wauneka.

Chester Nez, a Navajo, was recruited by the Marines in 1942. He was one of 29 Navajos who were brought into the military for the express purpose of creating an unbreakable code. The Japanese masterfully deciphered most codes the U.S. tried, so the Navajo Code Talkers were essential to America’s eventual victory.

Chester Nez, a Navajo, was recruited by the Marines in 1942. He was one of 29 Navajos who were brought into the military for the express purpose of creating an unbreakable code. The Japanese masterfully deciphered most codes the U.S. tried, so the Navajo Code Talkers were essential to America’s eventual victory.

The Navajo Code Talkers fought throughout the South Pacific, providing communications throughout the fiercest fighting.

At the end of World War II, the military classified all the work of the Code Talkers. The code had not yet been broken, and Americans felt it might be needed again.

Just over 400 Navajos served in this valuable role, but most never received acclaim for their work as it was not declassified until 1968. Since it was released in the late 1960s when anti-government fervor was at its height, little attention was paid to the news story.

In the late 1970s and ‘80s, the men finally began receiving due recognition. Many of the Code Talkers did not live to enjoy the praise the men received for their job well done. 

Chester Nez (1921-2014) was among the fortunate. He was part of the original 29 Navajos who created the code, and he lived to be recognized for what he did for his country. His story is well-told in Code Talker: The First and Only Memoir by One of the Original Navajo Code Talkers of WWII, co-authored with Judith Schiess Avila.

Nez Childhood

Chester Nez was born in Chichiltah, New Mexico. He grew up on the Navajo reservation in an area known as the Checkerboard. His mother died when he was very young. He and his siblings lived with their grandparents and helped on their farm where they raised goats and sheep.

The Bureau of Indian Affairs felt the best way to assimilate Native Americans was to remove the children from their family homes and put them in boarding schools. Chester (who received this name only upon entering boarding school) and his older brother and sister, Dora, attended schools in New Mexico and Arizona. The students were instructed not to talk in their native language. If they were caught doing so, they were beaten or their mouths were washed out with bitter soap.

The Nez children relished the summer breaks when they could finally go home and be with their loved ones.

Marine Recruiter

Nez attended high school in Tuba City, Arizona. It was 1942, and a U.S. Marine recruiter arrived at the high school with a specific goal in mind. The Marines wanted to sign up young men who were fluent in English and Navajo. Nez’s family still spoke their native language at home, so Chester Nez was an excellent candidate.

The Navajo people believe strongly in defending one’s country, so Nez also felt good about signing up. It was the right thing to do.

The Marines

Like all Marines, the 30 young men recruited for the special unit were sent off to basic training. They were told that they would be part of the communications team in the South Pacific. They were instructed in Morse code, radio communications, and signal corps work.  After boot camp, they traveled to Camp Elliott in San Diego where they received their specific assignment.

The Japanese had proven adept at cracking all the codes that the military had used. The job of the Navajo soldiers was to create a secret code based on their native language.

The officer stressed the importance of their work. The code needed to be robust enough to use in battle, and the men needed to keep in mind that the messages sent would make the difference between life and death. Anything from troop locations to calls for ammunition, food, or medical equipment might be conveyed over the radio waves. Could the Navajo men come up with something that would work?

Idea for Code

Toward the end of World War I, communication by Native Americans was used. The Choctaw Telephone Squad successfully relayed messages in their own language. No code was created, but the Axis countries did not have time to divine or translate the language being used.   

The idea for turning to the Navajo people for a code came from a fellow named Philip Johnston. Johnston grew up on a Navajo reservation where his parents were missionaries. Though Johnston lived among the Navajos and spoke a bit of their language, he knew that those who were not raised as Navajos were unlikely to master it. Navajo was also a purely oral language so there were no books or guides to help an outsider learn. 

Johnston convinced the Marines that if the Navajo people created a code using their language it would be uncrackable.

Creating the Navajo Code

Thirty men were recruited to create the code, but by the time they gathered in a meeting room at Camp Elliott, there were only 29. (Later on, the Original 29 became a term of reference for those who created it.) As the men worked over a period of several weeks, they saw they would be best served by creating a two-layered code.

The first layer involved the English alphabet. Two Navajo words were assigned to each of the 26 letters. The Navajo language relies heavily on various tones, so the tiny refinements in their work made a huge difference.

The second layer of the code concerned specific military terms. To speed their translations, they created special words for references to officers and terms for equipment that was used: “Battleship” was “lot-so” which means “whale;’ “submarine” was “besh-lo” which meant “iron fish,” and “destroyer” was “ca-lo” (“shark”) 

The Code Talkers needed to know this information better their own names. On a battlefield there was no time for anything other than an immediate reaction and the resulting translation. 

Those who heard the code and knew something about the Navajo language said that it ultimately sounded very little like Navajo.

Code Talker Methodology

The technology for sending codes at that time made use of TBX radio (a portable HF transmitter-receiver that at that time was powered by a hand-cranked generator).

The Code Talkers worked in pairs. All Navajos had to be adept at sending and receiving the codes; there was no room for error. One cranked the generator and oversaw use of the radio; the other translated and sent codes. Both jobs were exhausting in different ways, so they switched positions at regular intervals.

Once in place, the Code Talkers worked round the clock—often continuing for 35 hours without a break.

Testing the Code

Not everyone who heard about the program thought it was a good idea, so a test was devised. The code that was used in the South Pacific during that time was known as the Shackle protocol. Communication specialists would feed a message into a coding machine where it was encrypted into a series of numbers and letters. This string of characters was then transmitted verbally where the soldier on the receiving end would use a cipher to decode it. This process was slow and laborious, and most messages took about 4 hours to send and receive.

For the test, the message was given to both the soldier handling the Shackle protocol as well as the Navajo Code Talkers. The Shackle protocol transmitted the message in several hours. The Navajo Code Talkers passed the message in a matter of minutes. 

There was no question of their value in the war. The Marines couldn’t wait to get them overseas, and their first assignment was at Guadalcanal. 

Guadalcanal

The Code Talkers first exposure to fighting was overwhelming. The American military needed the island for a base from which to attack the Japanese. The fighting began in early August of 1942. Three major land battles, seven naval battles and numerous bombing, from American planes finally convinced the Japanese that the area would be taken by the Americans. As a native tribe, they believed in not walking among the dead. At Guadalcanal, it couldn’t be avoided.

In December, the Japanese abandoned their attempts to maintain control of the island, but they did not fully evacuate until February.

While fear of death was ever-present, the Code Talkers soon found that fighting in the South Pacific also meant constant discomfort. They often waited in foxholes that filled with water. As Nez wrote: “Nothing ever dried.” Any soldier can testify that wet socks lead to wet feet and that trench foot can be very serious.

After the teams were in field for a time, the Marines assigned a bodyguard for each man. The Code Talkers never really thought about why they had someone with them at all times (even going to the latrine), but as Nez later said, “They could replace a soldier more easily than a Code Talker.”

Messages Sent

The messages sent by the Code Talkers was specific as to locations and often reported on quantities, numbers, and supplies of the Japanese. While the Japanese were unsuccessful at breaking the code, they could pinpoint where messages were coming from, so the Code Talkers would send a message and then quickly move locations in order to avoid being bombed. It was a dangerous job.

Nez notes that the feeling among Marines was one of bonding. Those who served near each other knew that they were all in this together. There was camaraderie, and all the men helped each other out.

One thing their white counterparts couldn’t help the Code Talkers with, however, was badly needed time off. When the regular Marine units were finally sent off for a week or two of rest and recuperation, officers plucked Code Talkers out of the line up waiting for departure. They were informed them that they were vital in the field and would not be given leave. The physical nature and mental intensity of their work must have made it so difficult to keep going.

Secret Even on the Battlefield

Though the Marines that worked near the Navajos saw that they were assigned to communications, the broader group of Marines had no idea who they were or what they did. 

Nez tells a story of a time when he and his partner were stopped by a white Marine. He assumed their different color of skin meant they were actually Japanese, and he pulled his gun and threatened them. Because Nez and his companion could not talk of their responsibilities, they had no way to defend themselves. Fortunately, an officer who knew the Code Talkers came by and told the white Marine to stand down.

Nez Tour of Duty Ends

The Marines used a point system to keep track of the terms of service for Code Talkers. Nez fought through Bougainville, Guam, Angaur (where the Code Talkers were assigned to the Army), and finally to the very difficult battle at Peleliu.

When they landed on Iwo Jima, Nez and four other code talkers were told they earned enough points to go home. 

Nez had no physical injuries, but like many of the soldiers coming home from the South Pacific, he suffered combat stress. The trauma for Code Talkers was compounded by the fact that their work was classified. They were not permitted to talk about it with anyone, even family members.

After five months in San Francisco, Nez boarded a bus to Albuquerque. He knew he could stay with his brother for a time.

Once back in New Mexico, an early order of business was applying for an identity card that Native Americans were required to carry. In a story reported in his obituary in The York Times, Nez arrived at the Federal Building in Gallup to register for the card. The civil servant told him: “You’re not a full citizen of the United States, you know.”  

Until 1948, New Mexico did not grant the vote to Native Americans.

Until 1948, New Mexico did not grant the vote to Native Americans.

The G.I. Bill

Chester Nez was eligible for the G.I Bill. He left for the military before receiving his high school diploma. Once he returned and finished high school, he entered the University of Kansas where he studied for three years. The G.I. funds ran out at that point, so he was not able to complete his senior year. (In 2012, the University awarded him an honorary degree.) 

He got a job working on the painting crew for the Veterans Affairs hospital in Albuquerque. While much of the work was basic painting, the buildings department soon noted Nez’s artistic ability and had him add murals to many of the walls.

To add to his income, he signed up for the Reserves. When the United States entered to Korean War, he was called upon to serve. He was relieved when his assignments were all stateside.

Family Life

Chester Nez married and had several children, only two of whom survived to adulthood.

Nez was still suffering bad dreams and other disturbances from what is now known to be post-traumatic stress disorder. His father recommended they organize a traditional healing ceremony to help him overcome the nightmares and fears that overtook him.

For Nez, this native tradition was a successful remedy. In his book, however, he notes that many code talkers turned to drinking or suicide—they had little support for what they had been through.

Code Talkers Declassified

In 1968, the government finally declassified the Code Talker program. By this time, computers were quite adept at creating codes. 

But 1968 was during the build-up of anti-war and anti-government sentiment, so little acknowledgment was given to the Code Talkers or the incredible work they had done in creating an unbreakable code. 

During the 1970s and ‘80s, more press articles began to appear. Finally in 2001, Congress awarded Congressional Gold Medals to those who were still living. 

The Code Talkers were the inspiration behind the 2002 Hollywood film, Windtalkers, starring Nicholas Cage.

***

Another story about World War II and fighting in the South Pacific concerns the dogs the Marines to take with them: U.S. War Dogs in the South Pacific.

Jay Silverheels (1912-1980) is best-remembered for his role as Tonto in The Lone Ranger, an ABC television program that ran for 221 episodes (1949-1957).

Silverheels was a full-blooded Mohawk Indian born on the Six Nations Indian Reservation in Ontario, Canada. His birth name was Harold Smith, and he was one of 11 children born to George Smith and his wife. His father was Chief of the Six Nations tribe and was also a highly-decorated soldier in the Canadian World War I military forces.

Jay Silverheels achieved initial recognition as a gifted athlete in both lacrosse and boxing.

Silverheels Had Early Career in Sports

The lacrosse game at which Silverheels excelled was a new sport, called box lacrosse. Its history was documented in The New York Times as recently as 2013 (The New York Times, 8-31-2013). According to the article, the National Hockey League was looking for a way to use their arenas during hockey’s off-season.The League observed how popular lacrosse was in Canada and western New York. They opted to develop a new game that would be played indoors. Each team had seven men, down from 12 for the outdoor game. This made the group size more compatible for the limited floor space. Harold Smith, as he was known then, played for the Toronto Tecumsehs.

Box lacrosse was a rough and fast game—it soon became known as the “fastest game on two feet.”

When the team traveled to play a demonstration game in Los Angeles, actor and comedian Joe E. Brown (1891-1973) was in the crowd; Brown took note of the good-looking muscular player, Silverheels, as he was called by his teammates. The comedian spoke to Jay after the game and suggested he go for a screen test.

Smith/Silverheels, then known as Harry Smith, soon began working as an extra in films. Directors soon realized he could also do stunt work. During the 1940s, he continued to work in Hollywood, occasionally getting a minor role.

Jay Silverheels: Break-Through Opportunity

In 1947, director John Huston was casting what would become a classic film, Key Largo. Jay Silverheels was cast as one of two Native Americans fleeing the town’s sheriff when a hurricane is approaching. The two Osceola brothers (the Native Americans) take shelter at the Key Largo Hotel, which happened to be filled with what was to become an all-star cast–Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Edward G. Robinson, and Lionel Barrymore, among others.

Silverheels’ role in this movie drew the attention of producers who were casting for the television version of the popular radio program, The Lone Ranger. Silverheels was chosen over 35 other actors who auditioned for the part of Tonto.

This was notable for one primary reason: Native Americans rarely obtained parts in film or television. Any “Injun” roles were usually played by white people. Italians were popular for these roles as as they were more likely to have darker skin. However, red face paint was frequently used. Typically, a special type of red clay was mixed with water to provide a Native American look.  Perfect examples of this casting include Burt Lancaster being given the starring role of a Native American athlete in the 1951 film, Jim Thorpe: All American. As late as 1969, Raquel Welch was cast as a Crow Indian in 100 Rifles.

Bias Existed All Along

The bias against Native Americans ran deep. On a Lone Ranger fan page, film and television critic Kliph Nesteroff cites a  book, Making the Movies (copyright 1919), by Ernest A. Dench. Dench wrote that some felt that if Native Americans were given parts in the movies that it would “change” them:

“It might be thought that this would civilize them [the Native Americans] completely, but it has had quite the reverse effect, for the work affords them an opportunity to live their savage days over again, and they are not slow to take advantage of it,” wrote Dench.  “They put their heart and soul in the work, especially in battles with whites, and it is necessary to have armed guards watch over their movements for the least sign of treachery…”

These words were written thirty years prior to Silverheels’ time in Hollywood, but the decades had done little to ease tensions among the races.

Lone Ranger Debut

After a long and very successful radio run, the television program, The Lone Ranger, was first shown on air on September 15, 1949.  The Lone Ranger told the tale of a mysterious masked man and his faithful Indian companion fighting to bring peace and justice to the Old West.

The show opened each week with dramatic footage of Clayton Moore as the masked stranger riding his horse Silver through a Western landscape. An announcer narrated over the scene: “The Lone Ranger! A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty Hi-Yo Silver! …a mysterious character of the early West who brought fear to the lawless and hope to those who wanted to make the land their own.” To see a clip of the opening, click here.

At that time, few people had televisions, however, the number of television sets in America would increase greatly over the next few years. In the process, Tonto became a household name.

Silverheels’ character was little more than a cultural stereotype. Tonto spoke broken English and always was subservient to the Lone Ranger. But as the first Native actor to play a Native American on television, he broke new ground.

Silverheels Expanded Career

Silverheels played Tonto for the entire run of the television series, from 1949 to 1957 (with one short period in 1955 when he suffered a heart attack and some filming shots required a double). To watch the entire first episode of The Lone Ranger, click here.

He also appeared in two Lone Ranger movies, The Lone Ranger (1956), and The Lone Ranger and the Lost City of Gold (1958).

While Silverheels is best known for his portrayal of the masked man’s loyal companion, it was far from being his only role.  In the 1950s, he starred as Indian chief Geronimo in three films: Broken Arrow, Battle at Apache Pass, and Walk the Proud Land.  Later he was in True Grit, The Man who Loved Cat Dancing, and The Will Rogers Story as well as more than a dozen westerns.  His complete filmography is listed here.  He was disappointed that he could never break out of the stereotypical roles.  (Later he did television commercials, and this 1970 one for the Chevy Blazer probably pleased him greatly because in one minute the commercial sums up how he surely felt about many things.)

Did  Silverheels Use his Position Well?

While some accused Silverheels of docilely accepting his plight and not fighting for the rights of Native people, Jay Silverheels was balancing between wanting to work while still advocating for Natives to be cast in parts other than savages.

Silverheels had witnessed what happened when African-Americans protested their on-screen stereotyping and casting.  The result was that blacks were simply written out of more scripts. Silverheels knew there was a downside to taking too strong a stand.Silverheels Stood Up for What Was Right

Silverheels Took a Stand

According to Dawn Moore, the daughter of Clayton Moore who starred as the Lone Ranger, Silverheels was comfortable standing up for himself. In a 2011 article in The Huffington Post, she shared an anecdote that her father told.

The show was on location, filming in Chatsworth, California. Moore’s costume was made of heavy wool, and Jay was in suede. The two actors shared a trailer as a dressing room, and it was beastly hot when they were working, as well as in the trailer when they were given a few moments to rest.  Jay told Clayton he was going to say something to the director about working conditions.

Moore observed from afar as Jay talked to the director, and when he came back, Moore could tell by Jay’s face that that the conversation had not gone well. Jay mounted his horse, Scout, and took off. Clayton was concerned about his friend and followed, riding  Silver. When he caught up to the spot where Jay stopped, Moore said, “Jay, this isn’t right, you shouldn’t be holding up production like this.”

Jay quietly turned and said, “No, Clay What isn’t right is the way we are being treated…we need better working conditions.”

Jay explained that he was going to stay there for a time to show that he was serious. Then he would return to finish shooting.

The next day there were two new dressing room trailers, one for each of them.

Other Pursuits

While the show continued in re-runs, and thereby paid Silverheels residuals, he eventually found that he wanted other things in his life. He wrote poetry that he sometimes performed, and he appeared on a variety of television shows, including a number of westerns.

In the 1960s he formed the Indian Actors Workshop based in Echo Park to train and prepare more Native Americans for film. (It no longer exists but you can see a short slide show of it here.)

In 1974 he received a license for harness racing and for a time enjoyed breeding and racing harness horses.

In 1979, Jay Silverheels was honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Silverheels was present when the star was dedicated, and according to coverage in The New York Times (7-21-1979), Silverheels wept.

Jay Silverheels’ Riding Days Were Over

Jay Silverheels suffered a stroke in 1976 and was incapacitated from it to some extent. When New Year’s Day of 1977 approached, Clayton Moore realized that times were changing. Traditionally Clayton Moore and Jay rode in the Pasadena’s Tournament of Roses Parade each New Year’s Day.  Clay, of course rode a white horse called Silver; Silverheels was always on a horse that resembled his show horse, Scout.

That year, Clayton knew that Jay would not be able to ride.  To commemorate his long-time friend, Clayton Moore rode a paint-colored horse that year in Silverheels’ honor.

Jay Silverheels died in 1980.

After his death, Silverheels was inducted into the Great Western Performers of the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in 1993—the first and only Native American to achieve that honor until 2013 when actor Wes Studi was accepted for the honor.

Hattie McDaniel, the first African American to win an Oscar was similarly criticized for playing stereotypical parts .But like Jay Silverheels, she opened the door for others. That was just the way it had to be done.