Outskirts Press, INC.

A powerful book about the clash of two cultures and its environmental impact.

The Takua people lived along the upper Takua River and lake, where chinook, coho, and sockeye salmon had migrated for eons. The tribe had occupied the mouth of the large river ten thousand years ago as the ice caps receded during the last glacier age. As more of the river became open, the people migrated to the upper river, to the beautiful lake where resources were abundant. But in 1936, the CCC camps invaded the Takua forest to build a large hydroelectric dam on the river. When the dam was finally finished, the Takua people lost their lakefront property and were forced to move to a reservation, leaving many of their traditional and holy places lost, now underwater. In Indian Spirit Man, we meet Ahkah, the traditional chief of the Takua tribe, who lives on the Rez in an old school bus with no wheels. Startled from his nap by a vision of the Old Ones and their concerns about the hydroelectric dam, he engages his lifelong lawyer friend to help him appease the ancestors. But he will soon find out there is no resolution except to declare war on the dam...

“I called this meeting to hear what Chief Ahkah and his lawyer had to say. I did not call this meeting for the opposition party to tear it to shreds, because it means jobs—or less material things. This meeting is a turn in the destiny of this tribe. We are being destroyed by the ideas and practices of European invaders,” She said. “They took our land and gave us Jesus and we are supposed to be happy about that.” “This position, this drastic change, will have to go to a congressional hearing in the legislature. No doubt,” said Shirley Jack, as sober and serious as a woman’s eyes can get. “But for now we, the council, have to decide if this decision represents a new future for the young people of our tribe, and I think it does. The fish are gone. Our way of life: Gone!” she said. “Unfortunately, I don’t even get a vote, unless there is a tie,” she said. She arose from her chair and turned and faced the wall for a moment and turned back. “I can’t believe I am about to say this,” she said. “But you folks are rude, you are clamorous, you’ re whole race is bent upon competition.” She paused. The crowd hushed. “That is not the Indian way. That is not the way of our ancestor. We think, discuss, reason, but we love our people as a tribe, every one of them.,” she said. “ Now, I’m going to call for a vote of the council members” she said. “As individuals and as a community. White man’s way is based upon the law of the jungle, and no animal is as deadly as a smart animal. You need to realize that there are hundreds of reservations of Indians. There is only a remnant of our people left. Our way is a non-violent way. We have been poisoned with drugs and alcohol. We have been told our way is pagan. We have been given pennies, while our land is stripped of millions. I am adjourning this meeting for five minutes while you discuss if we want to adopt the Ahkah’s Cease and Desist order as our official position among yourselves.” Shirley bangs down the gavel to the amazement of a disbelieving crowd of public officials and proud Native Americans. The crowd begins to roar in amazement. Some of them are screaming out their objections and policy positions. The stressed out, red faced dam Superintendent gets up and stomps out of the room to express his disgust, followed by his staff of dam operators. Shirley Jack sat quietly thinking to herself about the white man’s way, the rude and contentious method and expression of disagreement.