Cover photo at Wounded Knee Memorial. Photo © PGrafHoke, 2022.
May 29, 2021 now what did you expect manicured lawns not a rutty muddy approach road requiring four-wheel drive not the burned out carcass of a small church an abandoned museum tilted into the small rise to the Monument mounded fresh graves plastic flowers prayer ties tied to the stretched metal fencing seeing my hat in hand maybe my bewildered bare headed look he opens the gate, invites me inside where I walk the concrete vault apron surrounding the mass grave (there is no other way to say it) He is Lacota and when I emerge from the fenced site including the Monument with the names from my childhood books he wants to talk and tells me there are 340 of his ancestors here brought frozen from the massacre site below (do not call it a battlefield) he wants to say the two building burned, arson, for sure committed by local kids he says apologetically matter of fact they have nothing else to do add arson and fresh desecrations to this sorry history he wants to tell of nine elders and corruption what winter is here how they rebuild the graves many still forlorn their nature names delineating such short lives alcohol crack and wrecked cars restless spirits here he warns of rattlesnakes in the cemetery weeds says nothing about ghosts nothing about dancing points to the two-sided red sign below telling the massacre story overlooking the slaughter site no mention of Hotchkiss machine guns three Medal of Honor winners for their bravery mounting ‘withering cross fire’ into the huddled women and children and left-over males He said, in closing, a white had come to offer the nine elders assistance he said they told him to take his ideas and go home. Bill Hoke June 2021
