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In
Memory
of Wanbli Cikala - Wallace Howard
Black Elk
July 18, 1921 - January 25, 2004
 
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My Relations;Uncle Wallace Black Elk has gone to join his
relatives in the far country.
So at this sad time for my Black Elk relatives I want to send
them my condolences on
behalf of the warrior society of the ION (the Independant Oglala
Nation of Wounded
Knee). As people around the world mourn him as a healer and kind
medicine man who
served and doctored all who came to him, I would like to remember
him and my Auntie
Grace Black Elk as the special caretakers of all us who fought
at Wounded Knee. I want
to acknowledge how bravely he stood for his people and how well
he served those us
who were risking their lives in that sacred place. I say this
on behalf of the warriors who
know and I say this to all who would understand a traditional
man of the People. Black
Elk. Let me explain how our Uncle came to be so special to the
Warrior Society in the
Knee. We had many wonderful holy men and Chiefs with us during
the 73 day life of our
Nation. Fools Crow, Red Cloud, Crowdog, Mathew King and Pete Catches
of the
Lakota and Phillip Deere and Horace Dauki from Oklahoma, to name
only a few.Six
Nations leaders and warriors, Ojibway, Ute, Maya, Dine', Apache,
Hopi, Pawnee,
Cheyenne, Hoopa and Warm Springs, Choctaw and Uchi, Cherokee,
Omaha and
Pottawatamie. All came to lend their strength and give themselves
to the growing circle. It
may be hard for non-Indians to understand but in our sacred ways
our spiritual leaders
give their sacred strength and blessing to the warrior society
in their fight for the People.
Their Pipe is for the Nation in war as well as peace. Wallace
Black Elk was one of the first
traditional men to join AIM lend his strength and knowledge in
our struggle to survive.
Like never before since the Ghost Dance societies of a past generation,
the Traditional
elders of the Native Nations joined and endorsed the young warriors
of AIM and our
desire to rekindle the sacred fires of our people. Just like the
rejuvenation of the Ghost
Dance in the last generation by Wovoka and the bringing of the
sacred fire by Quanna
Parker of the Commanche to the Tribes incarcerated in Oklahoma,
a great reawakening
happened in 1973 at Wounded Knee. Turtle Island shook as the red
giant rose from her
knees to stand with pride once more.>From the Pacific Ocean
to the Atlantic, from North
to South, red people decided to fight to preserve their Tribes.
It was a glorious time in the
history of our people, as Native People fought back from the brink
of assimilation and
denied the wasicu dream of our extinction. In Wounded Knee a Traditional
Society of the
Nations was born and lived. Guided by those ones who had been
taught and kept the old
ways of our people, and most especially the powerful ways of the
Lakota Nation, we put
ourselves in defiance of those who would crush our people. We
decided to fight for
survival and that fight is still joined to this day. In the minds
of the world we were a
"vanishing race" an entire race of people consigned
to the annals of histroy. But at
Wounded Knee we stood to tell the world they were wrong and we
intended to survive as
a people for another five hundred years. We chose to make our
stand at Wounded Knee
where wasicu historians had said our red world had ended in 1890.
Inside Wounded
Knee a society was born that depended on our elder traditional
men and women to guide
us and direct us on a path chosen by our ancestors. It was a circle
of one mind and the
work of the Nation was carried out by all. But at the same time
a vicious enemy knew the
success of our struggle meant the end of the whiteman's dream
that we would disappear
and our red history end. They brought their army against our small
beginning and they tried
to erase our red dream. It became the task, as always in our history,
for the young
warriors to fight to protect the vision of the elders and leaders
and people of the ION. In
the first days of the liberation the fighters and warriors stood
strong and carried out thier
duties while the leaders I named above took care of the business
of the Nation. Fools
Crow, Red Cloud, Crowdog, Catches and King led us in the red path
we had chosen and
spoke for our Nation to the world. And in the natural order of
our ways it fell upon
Wallace Black Elk and his beautiful companion Grace to minister
to the needs of the young
men and women of the warrior society of Wounded Knee. We were
a rag-tag group of
young men and women from many tribes and nations from throughout
this invaded land
they call the new world. Our squad leaders and military planners
were veterans of Viet
Nam and Korea and our cadre were the youth of the red people.
We could fight and we
were willing to die without exception, but to be a warrior society
in the old way we needed
to be more than that, we needed the guidance of a wise man to
differenciate us from the
hired wasicu killers. So we turned to Wallace Black Elk to be
that guiding teacher and his
companion Grace to be our clan mother. It was a rule among us
for each patrol or squad
to be cleansed in a Inipi and for each to pray for bravery and
success in the old way.
Uncle Wallace was called on to do this sacred thing for us, to
make us worthy to fight and
perhaps to die for our little nation. It became routine for us
to gather at he and Grace's
small two room cabin and for him to take us into a ceremony before
we carried out our
duties. But soon the wasicu blockade grew tighter and tighter
and Uncle Wallace had to
dig deep within himself to protect the warriors. Aunt Grace would
prepare some food and
Black Elk would prepare his Chanupa to ready us for battle and
to face the enemy with
courage. Let me give an example...Once as we prepared to enter
the inipi, the sacred
grandfather rocks had already been heated and a dozen warriors
were inside the lodge,
the enemy began to fire on us and bullets were flying around us
like mad hornets. My
brother Vic and I were the last ones outside, just undressing
after bringing in the rocks.
When the enemy began shooting we started to get ready to run and
told Wallace and the
others inside... "they're shooting!" Let's go!"
but Black Elk calmly looked out and said,
"come inside nephews, don't leave". Quickly we jumped
into the lodge and closed the
door. Uncle began to sing and we all began to pray with him, we
could hear the wasicu
firing their M-16's and machine guns but nothing penetrated the
thin covering of the lodge.
Calmly, without fear or hesitation, Black Elk performed the ancient
ceremony while the
shooting continued and we could hear the gentle rain of the bullets
falling upon the lodge.
Soon we forgot them and sang, and prayed and learned to believe,
in an hour maybe two
the fight ended and we came out to continue our duties. The next
morning the people came
and looked at what had happened, women and children picked up
hundreds of spent
bullets laying around and upon the lodge and then strung them
into necklaces as
souvenirs.As the times grew into weeks and months it got harder
and harder for our
patrols and supply trains to get in and out of the Knee. Again
the warrior society turned to
Black Elk and the old ways to help us do our duties. Each night
we gathered at the little
Black Elk house and told Uncle Wallace our intentions. Again he
took us into a
sweatlodge and told us how to become a part of the land and invisible
to the enemy. Many
times he would say, "Tonight you must travel towards that
hill, stop under a particular tree"
Wait there" he would say, "an owl will hoot four times,
follow him and he will guide you
through enemy line" "Do not talk but when you go two
miles put this tobacco on the
ground, say Pilamaye, and you will make it". He was never
wrong and his Owl relation
always came to help us, flying ahead, calling us forward from
tree to gully to hill, until we
were through enemy lines.Those of us who followed the Owl and
safely did our duties for
the warrior society, owe our lives to our brave Uncle Wallace
Black Elk and we owe our
gratitude to the kindness and comfort of his companion Auntie
and Mother, Grace Black
Elk. On the final days of the Knee they were two of the last people
to leave the Knee, they
stayed for the people as long as they could. When they finally
surrendered and left with the
last of the people, the wasicu knew it was over. They abused my
parents, they attacked
them, stole their sacred objects, they tore the Pipe from their
hands and shattered it in front
of their eyes. They handcuffed our holy man and threw his wife
on the ground. The
whiteman ground their sacred Eagle Feathers under their boot heels
-- they laughed at their
tears. They thought they were attacking the heart of a defeated
nation by hurting our brave
and gentle medicine man and his Grace, but they were wrong, they
were so very wrong.
Wallace Black Elk had already passed his spirit to all of us who
were priviledged to sit
with him around the fire. He had already made it possible for
our people to be proud in
knowing we could fight and survive. Wounded Knee is still there,
the spirits of Wounded
Knee remain and so does my Uncle Wallace Black Elk... forever.I
am Ponca, I am Carter
Camp, what I testify is true.
Tomorrow I join the warriors to see the Grandfather Sun rise in
the East, tomorrow our
Grandfather Black Elk walks to the West.
Mi-ta-qu-ye-oh-ya-sin he said.
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