2
Smoke Signals
EDITOR'S NOTE: Currently, the most important war in America right now is playing out in 12 western states and Native Americans from across the nation
are on the front lines. Wildfires are devastating many states and the people who call those states home. By sharing these articles with you, our readers,
we hope to draw attention to those courageous Native men and women who have taken the battle personally. They have sacrificed and persevered and
in many cases - with a little help from the weather - are leading the way towards ending this war. In each of your hometowns, if given the opportunity,
salute them for being so brave and for being an example to our young people. Share your Native pride.
Indian Firefighters Contribute their Expertise
HAMILTON, MT. (AP) Draw
ing on their knowledge of the land
and the behavior of wildfires, thou
sands of American Indians are help
ing battle the blazes burning across
the West.
Firefighting has become a much
needed source of revenue and
pride for Tribes across the coun
try. And at a time when blazes across
the West are stretching manpower
thin, the Native firefighters play an
important role.
"They can carry their weight," said
Mike LeBrun, Assistant Fire Man
agement Officer for the U.S. Bureau
of Indian Affairs Rocky Mountain
regional office in Billings.
About 4,500 to 5,000 Indians have
taken part in the fight against wild
fires this summer, said Jim Stires of
the Bureau of Indian Affairs. He said
that represents about 20 percent of
the nation's firefighting force.
Indian crews are well represented
among the hundreds of firefighters in
Montana's Bitterroot Valley, which is
facing one of the West's biggest fires.
Blackfeet Indians are here. So are
the Gros Ventre, Assiniboine,
Chippewa Cree, Kiowa and Choctaw.
bout 4,500 to 5,000 Indians have taken
part in the fight against wildfires this
summer that represents about 20
percent of the nation's firefighting force.
Jim Stires
Bureau of Indian Affairs
Fire has been an integral part of
Indian culture, making Indian
firefighters particularly well suited
for the jobs, said crew boss Dondi
Tonasket, 36, a member of the
Colville Tribe.
"We used to set our own burns just
to cleanse the forest in the past," he
said. "Now, our fire knowledge, the
way we move through the moun
tains, is an advantage. We are more
aware of the type of situations we
could get into, and we're better at
remembering ground. It seems to
come natural with our crews."
Tonasket, who has been fighting
fires for 13 years, keeps his crew in a
tight circle of tents a Circle of Life.
"It's the way I treat my crew," said
Tonasket, who learned the celebra-tion-of-life
tradition from his Elders.
"We stay in the circle, we treat each
other as family."
"I guess you could say we're well
adapted to this," said 33-year-old
Leonard Foreman, a Kiowa from
Carnegie, Oklahoma. "We can adapt
to things better because we've had
to survive."
Foreman has been fighting fires for
the past six years and is on his fifth
fire this season. This year, his 29-year-old
brother also joined his crew.
"Most of us are related by blood or
by marriage," Foreman said. "We
learned how to handle pressure a
long time ago and work well together
because of it."
But it is more than culture and it
is more than family. Lloyd Reevis,
68, started fighting fires in the 1950s
and returned to camp this year from
Montana's Blackfeet Reservation to
make some money.
On Indian reservations where un
employment often is staggering 69
percent on the Blackfeet Reservation
the seasonal work of firefighting
for the federal government has be
come an economic anchor. The sal
ary for firefighters starts at $10.60
an hour, and rises to as much as
$13.30 an hour for crew bosses.
This year, Reevis' daughter also
turned to firefighting, and his wife
"watches their grandchildren while
their daughter is on the fire line.
The huge fires in the Bitterroot
Valley are waning, blunted by cool,
rainy weather over the Labor Day
weekend. But fires continued to burn
on more than 400,000 acres in and
around the valley, and hundreds of
firefighters worked to contain them.
Tonasket's crew of 19 men and one
woman received word it is pulling out
for a couple of days of rest.
"We made a good reputation for
ourselves here," he said.
Demand for Tribal Firefighters means Welcome Money on Reservation
BROWNING, MT. (AP) Kenneth
Kicking Woman runs a tight ship as
supply manager at the Browning
Fire Cache. His job is a blessing.
"With this job I was able to get a
rental (home), and it's also going to
help me get the furniture and things
I need for my house without borrow
ing money," said Kicking Woman, a
recovering alcoholic who, after years
of unemployment, is earning $10.68-an-hour
outfitting firefighters for the
front lines.
. Blessing or curse, hardly a soul on
the Blackfeet Reservation is unaf
fected as hundreds of able-bodied men
and women ship out to battle one the
nation's fiercest fire seasons ever.
More than 1,700 American Indian
firefighters have passed through
Kicking Woman's concrete and chain
link fence storeroom, "the cage." He's
doled out sleeping bags and emer
gency fire blankets to merchants, stu
dents, and even a former Blackfeet
Community College president.
The cache paid out $300,000 on one
day alone this season, a powerful
cash infusion for a community where
unemployment pushes 75 percent.
Fire officials call the local bank three
days before payroll so they'll have
enough cash.
And the effects are felt well beyond
the reservation as firefighters and
their families spend at car dealer-
ships and shopping malls. Even
Quality Cleaners and Laundry, the
Cut Bank business that cleans
firefighters' gear, is working around
the clock, Owner Jim DeKaye said.
"We have an enormous economic
impact on the surrounding commu
nities of Great Falls, Shelby, Cut
Bank and Kalispell," Fire Manage
ment Officer Calvin Herrera said.
At the center of it all is the Brown
ing Fire Cache. Among the nation's
largest reserves of firefighting equip
ment and manpower, the cache is a
wooden warehouse on the outskirts
of Browning.
The firefighters' call, to arms is the
blare of a siren. As a red flag is
hoisted up the pole above the cache,
firefighters pour in by the dozens,
often with families in tow to say their
goodbyes.
Even during quiet times, a small
group waits outside the cache for
their assignments.
Terry Edwards hopes to make
$1,700 to $2,000 on a fire "camp
crew" doing setup and cleanup.
"It will help with school clothes,"
said Edwards, who sat on a curb out
side the cache for more than four
hours on a hazy afternoon recently.
"I've got three that are going off to
high school."
Her niece, Raquel Edwards, is
headed for the, fire line. She's seen
the training films about what can
happen on a treacherous fire.
The lure of adventure and cash is
powerful. She plans to make car
payments with her earnings, buy her
daughter clothes, give her mom
money and save what's left over for
nursing school.
For the first time since the 1970s,
Faughts Blackfeet Trading Post in
Browning sold out its entire stock of
firefighting boots, roughly 300 pair,
and is working on selling their sec
ond order.
"We like to see the boom in the
economy, but not really because of
the fires " Co-Owner Ann Elliott said.
But not everyone is enjoying the
bounty.
At Teeples IGA, Browning's main
grocery store, sales are flat.
"People are gone, tourist numbers
are way down and when firefighters
get paid $1,500 to $2,500, they're not
going to buy groceries first, they're
going to go buy a car," Co-Manager
Leo Wikstrom said.
The biggest problem is employee
turnover as fire crews are called out.
Wikstrom may shorten store hours
and even shut down the bakerv or
deli.
"If push comes to shove if we
have a choice between keeping the
check stands going or decorating
cakes - we'll probably keep the
check stands going," he said.
For now, there's one less restaurant
in Browning. Sandy Reevis closed
her "Sandy's" restaurant to work at
the fire cache.
Staffing is also thin at Blackfeet
Tribal headquarters. The Tribal
Council earlier this month autho
rized all government employees to
take unpaid leave with approval of
their immediate supervisors. The
forest development program is closed.
The extra firefighting income will
ease the pressure on the Tribe's hard
ship fund for families who need
emergency help with medical care,
housing and other expenses.
The volunteer fire department ex
pects to earn $24,000 this fire sea
son through its wildfire-fighting con
tract with the Bureau of Indian Af
fairs. The department is paid $1,500
a day for the use of its largest en
gine off the reservation.
"This is a perfect opportunity for
the small volunteer fire department
to make some money, because
Browning doesn't have a big tax base
to support us," Fire Marshal and As
sistant Chief Robert DesRosier said.
"It takes a lot of pressure off the lo
cal agencies that fund us."
The department probably will use the
extra cash to pay off its newest truck
and buy sorely needed radios and pro
tective clothing, DesRosier said.