The Witness Journal
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When most people think of “Tribes” they tend to think of it in terms of American Natives, or those who live in the remote locations hidden within the Amazon. But in reality we all live among tribes - and in many instances we live among multiple tribes simultaneously.
The High Desert is much different than all of the other types of deserts. The most noticeable is that there are no large cactus here. In fact, the only cactus found here are small, and low to the ground. But the color palette is one that soothes my soul just by being surrounded by it. And then there is the [light].
For those traveling to Boquillas, from Big Bend National Park, they make their way through the immigration station that is located within the park. As one exits through the out door, they walk down a dirt path that meanders through a stand of trees. At the far end is the Rio Grande River.
Boquillas, Mexico is a small village just across the Rio Grande River from Big Bend National Park, in southern Texas. In the early 1890s silver was discovered in the Sierra del Carmen, whose northern tip lies just east of Boquillas.
Mr. Adam Morales owned, and operated the Adam's Cypress Swamp Driftwood Family Museum, in Pierre Port, Louisianna. Upon his death I felt moved to write a post about this joyous man, and his driftwood paradise.
Helen, who is 83 years old, is a traditional Navajo woman. She lives in Blue Gap, Arizona, several miles after the paved road becomes a deep-rutted dirt road. When I visited her, yesterday, that dirt road had become thick with mud - which became challenging even to my Expedition outfitted with Mud tires on the rear. Unfortunately my Expedition is only two-wheel drive. Her younger sister, Alice, was there when I arrived, to translate. Helen only speaks Navajo.
“Dine’” which is Navajo for “The People” seemed appropriate for the working title of my newest book project, on the Navajo People. This post talks about a Navajo family to turned to ranching in 1978. But more specifically, they raise bulls for the rodeo. In recent years Freddie has begun turning the business over to his two daughters.
This post is the result of a piece that I had read, online, that sparked a grave concern - a concern that is not attached to any political affiliation…
I have noticed, probably for my entire lifetime - but, for the purpose of this writing, I would say: for quite some time;.[What] I have noticed is an aspect of our collective dialog that hints of a racism.
This morning, as I sat in my well-worn leather recliner, with the Calico cat laying across my left arm, and my right had writing thoughts in my journal - all of this part of my morning ritual when I am not on the road, I came to a stopping point. I sat for a few moments longer;
On the outskirts of Grafton, West Virginia, at 284 Pearl Felton Lane, sits an unassuming white frame house that has found its place in history as the house of Ann Reeves Jarvis, and the birthplace of Anna Jarvis - the founder, and creator of Mother’s Day. This tiny house is now a museum dedicated to Anna Jarvis, and the entire Jarvis family. But the museum, the house, and the land surrounding it, is steeped in Civil War history, early Civil Rights, the Underground Railroad, and a history of acceptance, and human rights.
This morning, as I drove from Pittsburgh back to Grafton, West Virginia, I decided to get off the Interstate and explore the town of “Prosperity.” For decades the name has intrigued me - like so many other names of towns across America, with names that make a statement …
Immediately, my mind returned to that moment inside a Waffle House many years ago. I remember asking if I could make her photograph. Then, as I often do, I asked a simple question: “would you tell me your story?”
She did.