Postcards from Quapaw, Gallup and Lupton - “Pottery and Patriotism”
The Yellowhorse Trading Post, Lupton Arizona
Betty Gaedtke proudly displays her hand crafted Quapaw pottery
Among the titles it's earned, Route 66 is often hailed as "The Main Street of America." But America is a lot of things and absent from many of its popular myths and legends are the stories of those who preceded the pilgrims or Jamestown. Yet it is indisputable that our country wouldn't exist as we know it without them and the same is true of the Route itself. Even today, more than half of 66 passes through Indian country and driving the road will carry you through more than twenty five tribal nations. While this presence was propagated for many years as a means of luring tourist dollars, in this episode we'll begin our travels by getting to know a few makers of different tribes and backgrounds along the Route whose work not only dispels stereotypes, but reveals stories that are in their own way quintessentially American. Featuring visits to Quapaw, Oklahoma, Gallup, New Mexico, and Lupton, Arizona, contributors include elder leader Grace Goodeagle, potter Betty Gaedtke, artist and educator Teri Frazier, and knife maker David Yellowhorse.
David Yellowhorse pictured with his art
TRANSCRIPT
(As this transcript was obtained via a computerized service, please forgive any typos, spelling and grammatical errors)
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Evan Stern (00:00):
Among the titles it's earned, Route 66 is often hailed as the Main Street of America. But America is a lot of things and absent from many of its myths, legends and even history curriculum are the stories of those who preceded the pilgrims or Jamestown. Yet, it's a simple truth that this country wouldn't exist as we know it without them and taking in the sunset at Beale Springs, a desert Oasis, outside Kingman author, Jim Hinkley says the same is true of route 66.
Jim Hinckley (00:33):
The native Americans come first with, with every story in the United States. That's, that's just, uh, you can't divorce the two here in west, well all of Route 66. And a lot of our early, uh, highways in general is, uh, based on native American trade routes. You know, in, in, uh, for example, Illinois, we had the Pontiac trail, which was a native American route and followed by French and British explorers and to a large degree that became state highway four in the 19 early twenties. And that morphed into Route 66,
Evan Stern (01:05):
Even today, more than half of 66 passes through Indian country and driving the road will carry you through more than 25 tribal nations. For many years, this presence was propagated as a means of luring tourist dollars. Reminders of this can be found in the rubber tomahawks. You can still buy at gift shops along the way, but today I look forward to introducing you to a few makers of different tribes and backgrounds I met driving the route whose work not only dispel such stereotypes, but reveal stories of hope and resilience that I believe are in their own way quintessentially American. I'm Evan stern. And this is vanishing postcards.
Betty Gaedtke (02:06):
The, Quapaws are the downstream people and other tribes have referred to us, you know, O-gah-pah means downstream people because that's what we did. We hugged all the rivers, you know, the black river, the white river, the Mississippi river, the Arkansas river. We've had a lot of struggles in our life. Um, we probably shouldn't even be here, you know, but we are. So I want the world to know that we are tough and we're resilient and we're good people. And we just want to share our stories
Evan Stern (02:37):
In his book. Route 66, The Mother Road, Michael Wallis writes, "Nowhere is Route 66 more at home than Oklahoma, where the pavement follows the contours of the land as though it had always been there. In Oklahoma, the west and east collide on Route 66 and the state becomes the crossroads for America's Main Street. If you imagine Route 66 and Oklahoma in these metaphoric terms, I think it's kind of poetic that either the first or last town you pass through in sooner country is Quapaw- a no stoplight farming community that sits just four miles south of the Kansas line. Like Muskogee or nearby Miami, it was named for the people who were forced here in the 1800s, but chatting with elder tribe member Grace Good Eagle, I learned this title wasn't entirely chosen.
Grace Good Eagle (03:35):
Well, Oh-gah-pah was our, is our name. And this was generations ago and we were still living in, in Arkansas territory. Um, then after our people signed treaties, as other tribes did too, giving up their land there and coming to the new country, this is, this was supposed to be Indian territory. This is supposed to be our land, our new home. And so we came here, um, but like other things, the name itself got changed for the convenience of non natives because they being in the government, couldn't say it or spell it <laugh> we ended up Quapaw. And that's how you'll find us listed in books. Quapaw. Q U A P A W. So we've kind of gone along with that too.
Evan Stern (04:36):
Admittedly, our government wasn't the first to struggle with the word Ogahpah. The Algonquins called them Akansa, which the French adapted into what we recognize today as Arkansas. Yet the Quapaw nation today is smaller in number and less familiar to the American ear than say the Osage Cherokee or Choctaw. But while the last of their full blooded members died, a few generations past, elder Good Eagle proudly tells me she's directly descended from them. And at age 84 is committed to ensuring their heritage is maintained
Grace Good Eagle (05:11):
Well, as I'm getting older, I'm thinking legacy. We've had several funerals and we've lost a lot of people, but when they go with that knowledge goes with them.
Evan Stern (05:25):
Knowledge and legacy is much of what's brought the petite white haired, Good Eagle here today. We're chatting under the tin roofed canopy of the old long house where members have convened for the Quapaw fall gathering on their grounds above the spring river. While they host a famous summer powwow, today's October festivities feel more like a family reunion, interspersed with discussions of cultural practices and preservation. And following a panel on the topic of funerals member, Betty Gaedtke shares one of their sacred practices with me.
Betty Gaedtke (05:57):
Traditionally, we put a bundle into, uh, in the casket for our people to take with them and it's personal items. So, um, yes, it was a big part of our burials
Evan Stern (06:09):
Sporting glasses, a warm grin, and graying curly hair that falls below her shoulders, Betty has dedicated years to the study and creation of Quapaw pottery, which I learned from her presentation is a renowned tradition she's working to revive.
Betty Gaedtke (06:25):
So what I'm gonna talk about today is the Quapaw and their pottery. Uh, you know, the Quapaws were known for their pottery. Uh, they've made some exquisite pottery and it is highly seeked out in today's market, which I don't like-
Evan Stern (06:40):
Betty tells me the reason this popularity frustrates her is because many Quapaw antiquities sold today were stolen from burial sites, which was one of the motivating factors that inspired her to research and create her own
Betty Gaedtke (06:55):
Well. It's really disheartening to me that, uh, so many of our pieces of pottery were dug from our graves, you know, and there are people today that are still robbing our graves. And that's where my real passion comes from is to stop that and replace it. I mean, this is authentic Quapaw pottery. It's just not ancient Quapaw pottery, but it's still as real as it was back then, especially when we, uh, cherish the traditional way of doing it. So, um, so yeah, I, I want our new stuff on shelves. I don't want people going around with a stick and poking our grapes. You know, it just, it breaks my heart. And it's just very sad that it still goes on today.
Evan Stern (07:39):
In looking at the pottery, Betty has displayed, which include Buffalo shaped pots carved figurines and vases decorated with smoke techniques, it would be unfair to call her work reproductions. She digs her own clay from the ground uses natural dyes and glazes she's formulated, says her best tools are her hands and will tell you her painstaking research has been a personal journey of discovery.
Betty Gaedtke (08:05):
I started realizing that we have completely let this fall to the wayside. And Quapaws are probably known for their pottery above everything. So for this to happen, it was just heartbreaking. And I didn't wanna see that stay that way. And even though I didn't have a traditional Quapaw leader or, uh, potter to teach me, I believe me for many years, it was trial and error because I kept wanting to do it the way that the Quapaws would have done it. Because like I said, you know, we don't have a written history. So when, you know, say when the smallpox came through and we lost so many of our people, so much tradition went to the grave with them. And so I feel a responsibility to our people. You know, if I don't speak up and share what I know, you know, how's my, how are my children or my grandchildren gonna be able to benefit from that? So it's all about handing it down.
Evan Stern (09:00):
Betty's grandmother was the oldest of the last remaining full blood Quapaw. And in reflecting on her family's history understands why practices like these haven't always weathered the years.
Betty Gaedtke (09:12):
And my grandmother was, uh, she lost both her parents by the time she was eight years old. So she was an orphan. She couldn't speak a word of English. She was only fluent in Ogahpah. And she ended up being sent to the Carlisle orphanage in Pennsylvania. She almost died there. I mean, she had an appendix attack. They didn't do anything for her for a week. It is a miracle that she even lived. I am in possession of a letter at my house, uh, from the Carlisle. And they were saying how sick my grandmother was and that it didn't look like she was gonna survive. And not that they really cared because there, you know, as you know, we are finding children at these places right now today, and there's a lot of them. So I feel very fortunate that my grandmother was strong enough to survive that, you know, and grandma never talked about it.
Betty Gaedtke (10:04):
She would not, she would not share her language with us. And, you know, and I think a lot of that generation felt that way because they did not want us to go through with what they just went through. So they did take that a bit of that out of them. And so it's been a struggle to come back, you know, so, but my mother shared with me and I've never saw, I never witnessed it, but from the appendix attack, my grandmother had a hole in her stomach that she carried her entire life and she died where you could put your fist into that hole in her stomach. So yeah, that's is what helps make me who I am to know that we overcame that we survived it, not, not everybody, you know, and, uh, at one time, you know, they say that the Quapaw were 10,000 strong in Arkansas, but because of the disease and starvation, you know, and the weather elements, uh, we dwindled down to late, they say less than 200. So for me to be part of the Buffalo Clan, it is such an honor. And what it represents is how tough we were and how tough we are today. Because you know, there's a lot more than 200 today, even though we don't have any of our pure bloods left. Um, we still we're here because of them
Evan Stern (11:24):
In both sharing and creating this work. Betty feels the presence of these people who came before
Betty Gaedtke (11:30):
I get that feeling every time somebody honors me and wants a piece for a loved one that has passed away. And I would give any tribal member, a pot free of charge for a funeral in a second. I wouldn't even think twice about it because that's really where I want this to go. One of the hardest pieces I ever made was while my mother was dying and I sat with her for 12 days and I sat there and I made her a Buffalo because she's part of the Buffalo clan. And, uh, so that one means a lot to me. My brother just passed away. I did the same thing. So much emotion went into these two vessels a bit, you know, I'm creating these, I'm crying, I'm talking out loud to my relatives. And, uh, there was times when I would just shut my eyes and just form it in my head. And you know, my moms wasn't perfect. My brothers isn't perfect, but it's just so full of emotions and love. And you know, the, uh, wanting to send them off with this as a traditional form. So yeah, I'm, I'm pretty passionate. <laugh>
Evan Stern (12:45):
I think of Betty in these words, about three weeks and 900 miles later, when I meet artist and educator, Teri Frazier in Gallup, New Mexico-
Teri Frazier (12:55):
I truly, truly believe that the clay wants to become it, what it is and the way to get what the clay wants to be is through you. You are the, you are that transmitter of- I'm the clay here. I'm sitting in front of you. I want to be this. Now you're gonna make me that way. And the clay talks to you. I swear to God the clay talks to you. It it'll do things that you may be like, oh no, I wanna do it like this. And it's like, okay, I'm not gonna do it like that because that's not what the clay wants and the patience that it takes. And the mindfulness, it takes to honor the earth in a way in which your creative ability can flow through and end up on that piece of pottery is a, a mysticism in itself on how that, how the creator talks to you through your, through your artwork. And I know that many, many artists feel it and our children feel it. And, and they're awesome artists in this area. You're not, you're not gonna find any better art than in Gallup, New Mexico. This is the gold mine here-
Evan Stern (14:05):
Far from the rolling Hills of Northeastern Oklahoma, Gallup rests just past the continental divide amidst a desert moonscape that provided backdrops for westerns shot by Billy Wilder and Elia Kazan. Known as the Indian Capital of the World, some have described it as a border town adjoining the Zuni Pueblo and Navajo nations. And Teri tells me the area claims more natives per capita than any place in the lower 48. A full bodied, ponytailed 60 something with a generous laugh. She's a daughter of the Laguna Hopi and Chippewa tribes whose roots here span centuries. She's showing me around the Gallup Cultural Center where she serves as its recently appointed director. Housed in the old Santa Fe Depot, right on 66 its lovingly appointed second floor is dedicated to what they call the Storyteller Museum, whose title she explains to me-
Teri Frazier (15:03):
The Storyteller Museum was built to be able to show the children of Gallup their story and what, how that, uh, how that story kind of, uh, is played out here. What the history is, what what's called ceremonial, who were the code talkers? What is pottery making? What is, um, Kachina carving and rug weaving and sand painting? There's a lot to be told here in a, in a very unique little space here, but I think that it, it holds the treasures here are just enormous.
Evan Stern (15:42):
Teri has a vision for this center that reaches far beyond the art and exhibits displayed today. She hopes it can host dances and visiting artists and tells me she's committed to putting in the work necessary to turn the center into a world class space. While she acknowledges this will take some time and the collective efforts of many, her mission to inspire and educate the children of this region is deeply personal.
Teri Frazier (16:10):
I'm the, I'm the dream that of my great, great grandparents that wasn't supposed to come true. And so we're here and our legacy needs to continue through our children. Simply put. That's their it's, who they are. They're entitled to this knowledge. They're entitled to be able to be exposed to who they are cause it's we're in a system that's designed to pull us away
Evan Stern (16:39):
Like Betty Teri's grandmother felt the scars of this system through the boarding school era, whose stories while painful, she feels are important to share.
Teri Frazier (16:48):
When my grandmother went to boarding school, the languages were already being affected at that point. And that was in the 1930s. And there were already children arriving at schools with limited language cause they'd been exposed already. And then they were only given six pieces of toilet paper every time they had to go to the bathroom. And so that became the bargaining tool because if you only had to do number one, you might need three or four that left you a couple to barter for maybe a brownie the next day, or maybe barter for some more. If you, if you had your brownie, maybe that would buy you six more sheets for that day. She says it was a time where you just felt so awful. Um, ironically, up to the day she died, that was one of her things that she had to have the best of.
Evan Stern (17:48):
But today Teri looks ahead with optimism and takes pride, not only in the endurance of her people, but their roles in shaping our society as a whole.
Teri Frazier (17:58):
Oh, because we, we, as native Americans have played an integral part in the history of the United States, all while trying to survive the processes created to defeat us. And, um, we're here and we're strong and we're proud
Evan Stern (18:16):
One group whose service was crucial, not only to America, but the entirety of Western democracy were the Navajo code talkers whose unbreakable classified language played no small role in turning the tide of world war II. Their story is what brought me here today, as the center features a permanent exhibit dedicated to these men whom Teri speaks of with reverence,
Teri Frazier (18:37):
I've met plenty of them in my growing up here as part of the intertribal Indian ceremonial. They were in the parades for so, so long growing up. And um, then it came to where, uh, you know, there were fewer of them and then became a time where we had to transport them and then now they're gone. And so I've seen that whole transition through and they were very proud warriors, very proud to, to stand up for what, what they stood for and how they saved world war II.
Evan Stern (19:10):
One artist who's paid tribute to these heroes for years is the silver mustached, long-haired knife maker, David Yellowhorse, whose workshop sits 22 miles down 66 across the Arizona borde.
David Yellowhorse (19:23):
nIhe designs. Uh, there's a lot, a lot of my heritage that will come out in the designs itself. Uh, and you see it, you know, when you, when you look at one of my pieces, it, uh, reflects a lot of that. Um, I do also, uh, other themes, uh, they're connected to our military. Um, uh, when I do knives that represent the Navajo code talkers and, uh, that, uh, uh, that means a lot to me to do something like that. And, and people, it means a lot when they, when they, when they see one and they purchase one of them, it, uh, becomes a, a family, heirloom-
Evan Stern (20:03):
More than knives, David refers to his work as art pieces and in touring his space where family members are busy assembling blades, I can't disagree. Whether buck, Bowie or pocket, the handle patterns are exquisite with inlays of turquoise, red coral, and oyster amongst such silver engravings as Buffalo, petroglyphs, and native chiefs. He even shows me a set of red, white, and blue kitchen cutlery featuring the iconic flag raising scene from Iwo Gima. A fourth generation silversmith, he learned this practice by helping his dad and grandfather and can cite the exact moment he discovered his passion for knife work.
David Yellowhorse (20:48):
I I've been a silversmith all my life, um, started when I was 15 years old for a living. And in 1978, I cracked a handle on one of my own knives. And I attempted to attempted to glue some on my scrap pieces of stones, turquoises, whatnot into it. And, uh, my customers that bought my, they liked it and they encouraged me to do them one or two. So I did that for them and, and it took off it really? Yeah, it's, it's it, it occupies my time today,
Evan Stern (21:22):
Since then, his knives have quite literally made their way around the world and is astounded by the stories of impact they've had.
David Yellowhorse (21:31):
I had a gentleman come through here, uh, stopped at the store. And my, he asked my sister, he says, I seen your, your sign says yellow horse. Do you know a David yellow horse? I said, she said, yeah, that's my brother. He goes, Man, I would love to meet him. Does he live around here? She goes, yeah, I'll call him. He goes, really went down there and, and met him. And he shook my hand. He said I've never thought I'd ever, ever meet. He said my name's John Massey. And he said, your, your knives have helped us. So tremendously in the war against terrorism. I go, excuse me. And he goes, let me explain to you. He says, I I'm a retired CIA agent. I go, wow. He goes, well, what happened was we went over there looking for Friendlys over there in Afghanistan.
David Yellowhorse (22:23):
And they were tribesmen. And, uh, he met with them and he came back. He flew back. They had some kind of meeting in Scottsdale for whatever reason. I don't, I didn't ask why, but he said at lunch, we were walking around fifth avenue and, and downtown Scottsdale. And I ran into this place and I seen your knives. He said, oh my gosh, this, we gotta, this is what we got. He's looking for something to take back to these tribesmen. He sees my knives. So he buys all, he bought all of them. There's 10 of 'em. He said, they says, I took them back to them and I showed them the, I gave them these knives, presented them to 'em. And I told him, this is what our tribesmen do in the United States, you know, in a connection. And he says, we made through your knives. We made the best friends with these guys and they helped us. They helped us.
Evan Stern (23:16):
Mr. Yellowhorse is no doubt a believer in the promise of Old Glory and his respect for the military is not uncommon among his fellow Navajo. Driving into Gallup, I noticed a sign announcing its Rand McNally designation as the most patriotic town in America. I don't think it's coincidence its other title is Indian capital of the world. And in this moment, find myself reflecting on what patriotism means. Most sources simply define it as a love or devotion to country. Sure. Bad actors have exploited this love across all borders throughout human history. Yet in pure form, patriotism, instills feelings of inclusion, community respect for land and pride and culture and roots. I've met few for whom these issues are more intertwined than these original Americans. I've met along our main street. I see this in David who tells me that when foraging for materials in the desert, he's never once cut a live tree.
David Yellowhorse (24:25):
If you cut all your live trees, then you have, you know, you have no more trees and uh, they need to be, they need to be, uh, preserved. They need to be there for, uh, for our, for our kids and for our grandkids and so forth.
Evan Stern (24:42):
I see this in Teri whose impassioned work to invigorate the cultural center goes beyond self-interest
Teri Frazier (24:48):
It's divine intervention. It's great. Great opportunity. I'm honored. And the spirits brought me here. I believe that they've entrusted me to take care of this in a way that I know how that others haven't been able to.
Evan Stern (25:05):
And I see this in Betty whose revival of Quapaw pottery is about far more than simple craft.
Betty Gaedtke (25:14):
My biggest fear is losing our traditions because once you've lost the traditions, we have plenty of casinos. And so there's money coming in and it's going, you know, to great places. But when you lose your tradition and your ways you've lost who you are. And that's how I feel.
Evan Stern (25:29):
The Aboriginal leader, George Erasmus once said, "where common memory is lacking, where people do not share in the same past, there can be no real community where community is to be formed. Common memory must be created." I discovered this quote through author, Mark Charles, who argues that the challenge of making we, the people, all the people can and should begin by acknowledging and listening to the stories, wisdom, and histories of our native host. And for that, it only felt right to begin our Route 66 journey here.
