January 20

Before I began this trip, I consulted with my philosopher. Just the notion of it pleased me. Yes, it is probably a good idea for a traveler to spent a little time in contemplation of purpose and concerns. Surely a journey is a deeper experience with a small effort to bring these things to consciousness. Plus, a good philosopher, which he is, will add depth.

Cris is concerned with how we see and understand things. He makes the point that when you add a dimension, in effect your perspective changes. If you have two dimensions and go to three, for example, what appears to be a dividing barrier in two dimensions, may only be a line on the surface, seen from a third dimension. Add time, and you might have a “wisdom” to see that the condition of a moment that could lead you to despair may evolve to something better. You gain that time-aided perspective. Cris, who inspires me with his humane views, trusts that this is good news for resolution of human conflict.

I had concerns about writing a blog. How can you properly tell a story from inside, when you don’t know outcomes? Might I just lead my patient readers down blind canyons? It is an act of faith to try anyway.

Yesterday, on my route to Silver City, I stopped at the Amerind Foundation museum in Dragoon, in Texas Pass, near the top of the Dragoon Mountains. Interstate 10 goes through the Pass. Many people had spoken highly of Amerind.

The Museum houses many artifacts of local archeology, plus items bought from elsewhere that had come from this area. The exhibits go back more than a couple of millennia, however my interest, as ever, was Chiracahua Apaches. In the room devoted to them, I saw beautiful beaded shirts that displayed an attention to fine detail and design. Knee length mocassins were crafted skillfully, and I could picture them worn in a 12 hour run across desert, returning from a raid, pursued by cavalry. Those runs, while more strenuous than travel by horse, gave the Apache the ability to disappear up near invisible mountain trails where horses couldn’t follow. Those moccasins had to be very well made. I saw a bow and arrows that Geronimo himself had made (in captivity. He sold such things to whoever would pay), and signed. That sent a chill of excitement through me to be so close to something his hand had touched.

In the same room a video was playing continuously the WBGH Public Television film “Geronimo and the Apache Resistance”. I had seen the tail end of it on TV recently, but not the beginning. The film is comprised of interviews of grandchildren of the Chiracahua survivors. Until recently, the descendants were reluctant to talk, because of cultural strictures concerning talking about the dead. In this film, however, the people strive to give a clearer image of the era of warfare, from the point of view of the Apaches. “Quietly and affectingly told” the New York Times aptly said.

The film gives a picture of a people struggling from the invasion of their land, and then the efforts of the invaders to kill them. Under these pressures, the Chiracahua changed from hunting and gathering to some of that but also a reliance on raiding. Settlers and miners came equipped with food, horses, cattle and weapons, and were easy targets for the Apaches, who had the advantages of acclimation to a hard land, and a thorough knowledge of its terrain. They became specialists in raid-and-disappear. The film documents the attempts of a people to survive. At times even Geronimo tried reservation life - at the dry and barren San Carlos Reservation. The Apache tried to rely on the integrity of the US Army, yet time and time again found the Army used deadly deception and easily broke essential promises. When Geronimo first surrendered in the spring of 1886, he and Naiche quickly came to the conclusion that the Army intended to execute them, and they fled, a group of 20 men and 13 women. The second surrender was later that year, after tribe members were already being shipped to POW imprisonment on the east coast of Florida, and Geronimo and Naiche’s band would be totally isolated before final extinction. After the second surrender,he Army did not execute them, but did break promises to unite them with their families (they were initially imprisoned in a second fort on the Florida panhandle), and more importantly, did not return the people to Arizona in two years as promised, but imprisoned them in the east for 27 years. Under these circumstances, Geronimo, Naiche and the others of the warring Apaches did not see an alternative to war, for the sake of their lands, for the survival of their people, and for their sense of essential dignity. All of this is well presented in the film.

Many factors complicate the picture. Political pressures, cultural differences, personalities - all make this a complex story.

Nonetheless, you cannot ignore things like the major accomplishment of the Apaches, evading control of the Army for roughly 25 years. You can’t ignore the occasional humane actions of some of the Army officials. You can’t ignore what was called the savage brutality of the raiding and warring Apaches. You can’t ignore the occasion of Teddy Roosevelt inviting Geronimo to the White House. The Apaches were equally feared and respected.

Ultimately their treatment by the government was brutal also. One hundred twelve Chiracahua children were shipped to the Carlisle School in Pennsylvania. Twelve died the first year. In nine years, 37 had died, and perhaps more among ones sent home.

Despite all this, somehow to the present day the Chiracahua show a strength that is remarkable among tribes. They have adapted to life in a non-Indian world, while still retaining important aspects of Apache culture. They are like the doll that always rights itself.

I started out talking about perspective because I came away from the Museum with a distinctly shifted perspective. I felt perhaps some of what I wrote earlier I see in a slightly different way. And I see that this is a problem of blogging, while at the same time the blog can be seen as a process of coming to understandings. What I write about the Apache today may be out of date next week. Please have patience!

This morning, here at 6000 feet in Silver City, we had four inches of snow, and where my horses are, at 7,000 feet, more.My Norwegian horses looked pleased.