Visiting Big Hole National Battlefield
'I felt the sorrow course through me and explode in a downpour.'
Hello all and sundry,
Well, come on in. Today’s post will include the poem and some links to the Big Hole National Battlefield. If you’ve never been, it’s quite a, hum, a historic place as you visit the visitor’s center, but once you walk out and overlook the battlefield it’s a…..an internal experience. I don’t know how to thoroughly explain, in a few words, as I do in the poem I wrote, after my first visit there, just how impactful it is to visit this sacred ground. Have a listen to the poem and maybe you’ll feel…that. Alright. Let’s get started.
Many blessings and MUCH LOVE,
~Wendy💜
Big Hole—National Battlefield
Visiting Big Hole National Battlefield
A June sun, warm, for this journey, valleys and hills—green, waters, a slow—still, hold on to the cold runoff of mountain spring. Sprigs of Blue Camas poke their floral heads above grasses ~in sway~. Tepees, bared poles, once homes, nestled with each other along the river's bank. Late June air circulates varied temps, cool to warm to cool to warm again, on an easy breeze. Mosquitos emerge in bloodthirst, a visible black swarm and their bizzzzzbizzbizzzbzzz irritates my senses. Still, I walk on... to see this place, a century and a decade and nine years— later. To put my feet on sacred ground, where too many souls, beautiful spirits of The People, Nimiípuu, (Nez Perce), Chief Joseph's Tribe, walked their last steps, gathered their last wood and Blue Camus, filled their last Bison bladder of water, built their last fire, made and ate their last meal, sang their last songs, held their children—last, slept their last sleep and woke their—last— to gunfire, and screams, and horror. The last breaths in and out of the first people. In the hushed valley near the Big Hole River, I walked, were blood from bloodthirst was once spilled in pools over the dark, rich, shared earth. The Tepee frames, the river, the Blue Camus, the green grasses, all there, timeless, in held memorial. Poles, no hide to cover, no smoke rising out and up, no warmth of souls within. Bare poles, reflect every emptiness there—now, no longer the living, once within and around. Weathered, grey, pitched poles stand in solemn evidence of the pain and plight of humans last breathing bitter gunpowder and smoke filled inhumanity. I could see, taste, touch, smell, HEAR anguish. My breath caught. My heart clenched. My eyes flooded. I felt the sorrow course through me and explode in a downpour. As an unknown, internal force ROSE, my throat SCREAMED. Its origins ancient. My legs shook, yet I STOOD in reverent honor to their lives, though every cell wanted to collapse in woeful lament. Unimaginable, those days, so many were slaughtered: as many as 90 Nimiípuu: women, children, elders. All awakened in the early morning by blasts and reports of rifles, scrambling for their lives, as the fear-filled evil, descended, from the uniformed. Life-taking orders justified because of greed and want, and take, take everything, coursing through their darkened hearts. Images, sounds, retrospection, real... Eyes closed, face to the sun, tears flow and fall in steady drop to wet the dirt, and join the tears and blood of The People. The slow move back down the trail, to today... This, the wrong of these days, will NEVER leave me. W. Gray -1996
Added commentary:
I am not a member of any Tribe, though it’s highly likely that I have the slightest trace of Tribal blood running through me (likely a large percentage of us DO!), still, I can and do see the horrendous wrongs of generations past (and present!). I am grateful for the time I lived on the Flathead Reservation and all that I then learned about the Tribes of Montana, specifically.
I do hope we remember our Tribal neighbors, brothers and sisters, and all they have endured and are still enduring. The way of non-native invaders to continue to take what wasn’t and isn’t theirs and repeatedly go back on these agreements is still happening. It is a shameful stain on all of us. Most recently, this intrusion by government to disregard a Treaty’s promise happened, again, of all days, announced on January 6, 2025. All for GOLD. All for GREED. Here is a link to information about this violation of the Nez Perce Treaty Rights and the greater destruction that will come to the natural environment: water, soil, flora and fauna (because no matter the “promises” it inevitably happens). It is unconscionable.
According to the Forest Service’s own final environmental analysis, the Mine will destroy fish and wildlife habitat and impair surface water and groundwater regimes well past the life of the mine.
Follow the money.
Share holders: https://finance.yahoo.com/quote/PPTA/holders/
Largest amount of shares held by: John Paulson (and company).
The lie they always promise: (Interesting that there is NO mention of violation of the Nez Perce Treaty Rights in their reporting!)
What can WE do? I don’t have the answers, but I do know that AWARENESS is the first step. Let’s be aware, and demand our government’s Treaties be followed and honored as any respectable person would expect and do.
Well, that’s my ‘soapbox’ plea.
Blue Camus
Below is information about an important and main food source of The People, Blue Camus. Click here for a link to this video.
This video was created by Vision Maker Media Check them out to learn about and support their efforts.
Thanks so much for reading, listening, and caring.
Love all y’all! 💜
As a Free subscriber, you join a community of readers like yourself, help me promote my work by sharing my posts with others, get all of my free posts sent directly to your email inbox, and have my sincerest appreciation!
As a Paid subscriber, you get all of that— PLUS, an ‘insider’ access to Extra-Extra! posts, participate in discussions, and have preference in viewing future chats and videos.
No matter which you decide, you bless me to continue to do what I love: WRITE!
I am grateful for any way in which you choose to read, share, and encourage me with this writing dream! 💜
Humankind (kind, ha!) where did we go so wrong?
Wendy, I learned so very much and will learn more as I view/read the wonderful resources you included. I too, have no Native People's DNA, and have always (since being a young child) felt the great need to right the wrong of the stealing of their land, the genocide of their people and to honor the treaties (paltry though they are). Gold...all greed and want, not "need." Your poem brought me there, feeling the pain of a people simply living their lives, not living to see another day or night. When will it end?