"On this day (Feb. 8th) in 1887, the Dawes Act was approved by the United States Congress, dividing Native American Reservation lands into separate properties to be owned and maintained by individuals. Tribes were to be dissolved and Native Americans were expected to assimilate into white American culture. Most of the land granted to Native Americans was desert, unable to sustain Agriculture." - From today's reading in Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals.
As a result of the deplorable conditions on their reservations, many of them left their reservations and moved to large American cities, and just like Italian, Irish, German, and East European immigrants, they tended to gather together in neighborhoods. One such neighborhood with a large Native American population was Cleveland, Ohio's near west side. When I was a community organizer in Cleveland during the late 1960s I met several of them.
Most of the men were veterans, not because they were patriotic, but because racism made it difficult for them to find jobs. Most I met were Catholics. I can't remember the name of the church, but Father Bob Begin was their priest. He was a leader in the Catholic Peace Movement and was a friend and drinking buddy of mine. Occasionally we went bar hopping together, Father Bob and his friend Father Bernie Myers knew where all the bars owned by Catholics were located. I would sit between them and often the bartender would assume I must be a seminarian and would give all three of us free drinks.
The headquarters for the Catholic Peace Movement at the time was the Thomas Merton Community House, also located on Cleaveland's near west side. One of the Native American Vietnam War veterans who had not been able to find a job lived with his wife in the house. They had turned the attic into an apartment. He and his wife were the caretakers of the building. I don't remember their names, but I do remember she was a fantastic cook. I also remember a poster on the wall in the house that said, "Fighting for peace is like f**king for chastity." The Quakers in Cleveland were also very active in the antiwar movement but the Magnolia Friends Meeting House in University Circle where I usually worshipped would never have allowed a poster like that in their meeting house. However, they always had flyers in their vestibule titled, "How to respond to questions from the FBI."
Alzheimer's is so weird. Especially at the beginning. I know the day is coming when I won't remember anything. But right now is just seems so strange that I can remember all of the things from many years ago thatI've mentioned above, but I can never remember what day it is when I wake up in the morning. Most mornings I have to ask Connie what our plans are for the day because I can't remember what she told me the day before. And quite often when we are driving somewhere I have to ask her to remind me where we are going. Nevertheless, I'm thankful for the memories I still have and I thank God he brought Connie, my reminder-in-chief, into my life.
Oh my! I can't believe how long this post is. If you've read all the way to here you're obviously goofing off or procrastinating when you should have been doing something much more important. Sorry about that. Now get back to something more important than my rambling.
