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About Spilyay tymoo. (Warm Springs, Or.) 1976-current | View Entire Issue (Dec. 21, 1984)
Drugs < ire not the answer To the people, I d o n ’t know how you people feel or realize w hat it is that you ’re doing to our younger generation. Ten yearsago I used to sell different types of drugs, and because of this, one person is dead. Seeing alm ost all b f my friends die because of alcohol and drugs is insane. W hat peo ple call fun is becom ing a very deadly problem with anyone who indulges in alcohol or drugs. I d o n ’t see w hats fun ab o u t get ting beat up, com m itting adul tery, being stabbed, shot or get ting into car wrecks, getting seriously h urt or evén dying. It’s because of Jesus C hrist and His love th a t I am w riting this letter of concern. It seems no one hardly ever preaches hard anym ore, like sin is death, hell is hot, and heaven pure, and Jesus loves you and died fo r you and I, to save us from w hatever it is th at has con tro l over us (drugs, alcohol) etc). In Genesis 3:14-19 God talks ab o u t a curse, because of one m an’s sin, sin entered into the world. Verse 18 “and thou shalt eat the herb of the field.” It says m an shall eat of the herb an d not the herb eating man. People are to have this under subjection^ but the world we liv e in is the herb of the field eating m an, w om an and child (drugs, alcohol, cigarettes) etc. P ro v e rb s 20:1 “ W ine is a m ocker, strong drink raging: and w hosoever is deceived is n o t wise.” We have preachers running around this country who are justifying themselves m ore than they justify God Almighty. Once give this old warrior, the strength you’re doing to oUr younger no m iddle ground, if you die in your sin y o u ’re going to burn in hell forever, but if you get right w ith Jesus you ’ll live in p ara dise. Som e have fallen away fro m the gospel o f Jesus Christ, tipping a bottle, doing dope and slapping Jesus in the face. Isaiah 5:11-14,2^ “Woe unto them th a t rise u p early in the m orning, th a t they may follow strongdrink; th at continue until night, till wine inilam e them. A nd the harp, and the viole, the tabert, and the pipe, and wine, are in their feasts: but they regard not the work of the Lord, niether consider the operation of this hands: Therefore my people are gone into captivity because they have no knowl edge: and their honorable men are fam ished, and their m ulti tude dried up with thirst. There fore hell hath enlarged herself and opened her m outh w ithout Pleasure, W oe u nto them that are m ighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong d rin k .” Christmas is almost here, Jesus the son of G od, God is hum an flesh, being b o rn in a manger, Christ living am ong men, Christ dying on the cross for you and I. Som e people say cuss words about Jesus Christ. Jesus this, C hrist th at, it’s very upsetting when I hear people say things like that. I m ean how would.you like it if I used your father, m other, sister o r brothers name in every cuss w ord? Jesus means Savior-C hrist means anointed one. M atthew 27:33-35 “And When they were come unto a place called G o lg o th a,th at is to say, a skull, they gave him vinegar to drink mingled with gall: and Continued on page 8 Spilyay Tymoo photo by Behrmd Planners for the future Mid-Oregon Indian Historical Society board members are (left to right) Jim Southern, Lilly Heath, Rudy Clements, Marge Ettinger, Dr. Richard Ettinger, L iz Tewee and D on Kerr. The board meets quarterly and is currently busy working on plans fo r the museum. Other board members include Nelson Wallulatum, Harold Culpus and Donna Behrend. “ Give the old warrior the strength to win just one more war” Note to the Editor: This story was printed a year ago in the Rawhide Press o f the Spokane Tribe. I have been informed that it has been used in several Tribal alcobol programs. One caller told me, th a tit was not just the story o f one man, that it applies to. many. I have been asked to submit it to other Tri bal Papers, so more people could benefit from its lesson. Getting a glimpse through, the window o f time, into another persons life, can be a powerful ex perience. Inges Mebes Box 755 Kettle Falls, Washington 99141 738-6027 “The Old W arrior” by Inges Mebes The day before rain had cast its gloom over the, land, b u t this m orning the sun cam e o u t. Its brilliance adding to the good m ood of the crowd; W hat a per fect day for a powwow. From the distance I could hear the drum s, drawing me like a m agnet, as they always do. S topping to greet friends here and there, I m ake my way to the W ar p à n c e H all and the magic of yet? another powwow. My eyes sweeping ove/ the;crbw d., looking for a goodplacestt> si t, I noticed you. A lthough there were many people there and the benches were filling up fast you were sit ting alone a p a rt from the oth ers. Your hair looked rumpled, your eyes dull as if shrouded in fog. Y our clothes had an un kem pt appearance and there was the smell of alcohol about you. You were not loud or dis orderly. You were not b o th er ing anydne but seemed With draw n from your Surroundings, A small child smiled up at you and was about to sit next to you, b u t was snatched away by a m other’s hand and ushered into another direction. I heard her mutter something about “that old 4ru n k .” I know you heard it too.iyou looked as if someone h ad slapped you in the face. You looked h urt and sad. So I sat next to you, hoping to make up for someone elses th o u g h t lessness. Y ou looked a t me a »Toe Ness * > There was this guy who came into a bar pretty well out of it. He told the bartender he wanted to throw darts. Bang! He hits-the b u ll’s eye bang! He hits another one, and again bang! He hits the bull’s eye. “ D on’t I get a prize?” The bartender didn't know w hat to give him, all he had was a turtle in a box that he was going to give his son. He gave the turtle to the drunk and he went out. A tew days later here he came again, “ Hi, rem em ber me?” “W here is the d art bo ard. I ’d like to win another one of yOur prizes.” “I can’t rem em ber w hat the prizes w as.” “ It was that nice roast beef in a hard bu n .” YIKES ssssss j The flood was com ing to Louisiana and this guy was sitting on his fro n t porch. The N ational G uard dame by in a jeep and said, “Y ou’d better com e w ith us, a flood is com ing,” “Nope, I’ll put mv hands in the Lord, he’ll save me.” After a while the water rose higher and they cam e by in a boat, the guy was sitting on top of the porch. Y ou’d better com e with us.” “N ape, the Lord will save me.” The third time they came on a helicopter as he sat on top of the chimney and the w ater was rising. “Y ou’d better com e with us.’’“Nope, the Lord Will save me.” A bout that time there was a big “G lum p”and he was gone. He was sitting in heaven when the Lord came walking by, Psst, pst, hey Lord why did you let me die?” “ Well, gee whiz, I sent a je ep , a b o a t an d even a h elico p ter and you never res ponded.” YIKES stranger and greeted me. I re turned the greeting with dignity. The drum s started their sdupd filling every corner o f the ball. Their echo reaching deep inside ,us,asif.XtyingJ.Q.aAva ke-snnje- thing, that has been asleep within Slowly you become alive, your eyes losing their dullness, begin to shine. Y our body moving with the rhythm of the drums. From your lips comes a chant new to me, yet sounding famil iar, m aking me feel J have heard it before. Som ew here long ago outside the scope of my memory. Amazed I watch your tranfor- m ation. The words of your song floating to me, like u bird on silent Wings. I must Jfjstenclosely to understand you. You are of an o th er tribe, you have tfaveled far to g et here. Always you m ust follow the powwow, as a bird follows the season, you m ust answer the call of the drum s. I close my ,eyes,ishutting out all else except the beat of the drum s. I follow your voice into the past: Yott were young then, so full of life, hope and plans, for the future. Y our body was healthy and strong and you liked to race with the wind and cunningly stalk, wild game. N o horse was so wild th a t you could not tam e it. Life on the Reservation was simple then,, you did not have m uch, you were p o o r and yet you felt rich. Then your country took away from your people and the life ypu loved. It sent you to a foreign land, to fight for freedom. You could not quite understand why you were there, so far from home, fight ing for people whose language you did not understand and whose ways were strange to you*. But your country had sent you, so you did your d qty and did not question it. As the tirtim s stop, you grow silent, w aiting for them to siart again before you continue. It ® your first battle, you are fight ing shoulder to shoulder^with your cdm ando, beating th e a t tackers into retreat. S uddenly you find yourself alone, isolated from your group and face to la c e with an enemy, looking into the b arrel of his gun. You have never killed a m an before in hand to hand com bat. But now you know th a t it is either him o r you. F o r an instant you feel the te rro r o f d eath and you w ant to run. Then instinct takes pvrj^.yon-feei.ypuT blood Stir,»■( Som ething inside of you recalls your ancestors, the proud war riors. You let out a war-cry shrill and penetrating. Com ing unexpected, it so startles your enemy, m aking him freeze m o mentarily. You, use this time to change. The noise of your gun blending with the sound coming from your throat. Then it is all over..'Your enemy laying at your feet, all life gone out of him. You look dow n at him, the first m an you killed. W hat is it you feel, you wonder? Remorse for the young man, not much older th an you, who now looks so harmless in death? O r is it a relief at the conquest, th a t it is not you laying there in his place?. Y ou feel Som ething ru n n in g dow n your cheeks, you wipe it with the back of your hands. It; is tears, you discover alm ost amazed. You had not cried since you were a child. Almost au to m atically ypur hand reaches dow n to touch hini, as if count ing coup lilce your w arrior an cestors have done before now. The w ar goes on, with its suf fering, death and destruction. You fight bravely, for w hat your country stands for. You take life, but you also save life. Y our fellow soldiers marvel at your courage. You are treated as a hero and decorated for your bravery. Then the w ar is over. Victbrious you return home, to the life ybu had left. While many details of the war grow-hazy with the passage of' tim e /th e mem ory of the first mail you killed, your first coup will always stay with you, as clear as if it had happened yes terday. Even the fog of alcohol cannot dim th at p art o f y o u r life. ’ The drum s have stopped and you grow silent.»I open.my eyes and look a t you, in w onder. I touch your shoulder, convinc ing myself"that you are real and not a dream . Then pointing to the dancers I tell you “You should not be sitting h e re /It is out there that you belong. Dress ed in the trad itio n o f your peo ple,” You shake your headsadly. “But you must,” I implore, “Y our, hearty your soul are out there, in th at circle.” You turn and look at, m e »full now. The painful expression in your eyes is some thing beyond the description of words. 1 The drum s have started again, your body picking up the rhythm, ypqr voice sounding sad: “ I have been out there, taking home many honors, th at is past now. Now I can only w atch the o th ers, They much dance for me. Those drum s, they are my reli gion, they speak the words of my h eart.” As you turn away from me, I understand what it is you are telling me. You do not join the dancers, because you are a d ru n k an d you are asham ed. You have betrayed and dishonored your b ody with alcohol. But you will not disho n or th e sacred circle' and the sound ,af.thosedrum s,the4radi- tion oiffyour people. So long ago, you cried fo r your first dead enemy. Now it is my heart th a t cries for you, a brave w arrior, who fought with such courage. You won the b at tle you fought far away from hohie b u t you lost y o u r battle with alcohol and let it defeat you. I walk outside into the dark, away from the crowd. I inhale the cool air o f the evening and look a t the stars th at have been shining on m any generations and witnessed m any battles, in victory and defeat. W ith the sound of the drum s still in my heart I say “ Oh G reat Spirit, give this old w arrior .thè strength to win ju st one m ore war. Let him defeat alcohol, let him count coup over the bottle. Let him be strong and proud once more, so he cap jo in the dancers in the circle where he belongs. Tribal Council Agenda December 18 Tribal Council Meeting 1.9:00 a.m. Secretary-Treasurer 2. 10:30 a m. Judge A ppointm ents 3. 1:30 p.m. 509-J School D istrict/ D arrel W right December 19 Tribal Council Meeting 1. 9:00 a.m. Seekseequa W atershed/W ater C ontro * Board 2. 1:30 p.m. C ourt Jurisdiction/H ow ard A rnett December 20 Joint Tribal Council/Committee Meeting 8:00 a.m. Kah-Nee-Ta Resort SUBSCRIPTION TO SPILYAY TYMOO SPILYAY TYMOO SEND SUBCRIPTION TO P.O. Box 735 WARM SPRINGS, OR 97761 ADDRESS ____ _____ CITY___ _______STATE. _ . Z |P ___________________ Note from the Editor Spilyay Tymo 'elcomes articles and letters io be published from Its readers. Short letters pre>£ ably 300 words or less and must Include the writers signature and address. Thank you letters and poetry will be published at the editors discretion. All letters are the opinion of the writer and do not reflect any opinion of Spilyay Tymoo. Spilyay Tymoo reserves the right to edit all copy OR refuse publication of any letter that contains libelous material. . SUBSCRIPTION RATES: ONE YEAR $6.00 All Warm Springs tribal members will receive the Spilyay Tymoo at no cost. Spilyay Tymoo is published bi-weekly by the Confederated Tribes • Springs. .
