June Blackhorse

It is a sad time for us at Twin Rocks; we have recently lost a good friend and mentor. June Blackhorse, a prominent Navajo medicine man who willingly shared so much valuable information with us concerning his traditional beliefs and cultural stories, has died. Over the past two years, Jana, Steve's wife, acquired a good deal of information from June for her book on Navajo ceremonial basketry. June was not only willing to provide answers to Jana's many questions about the history and origin of ceremonial baskets, he had also mentioned how appreciative he was that she was interested enough to ask. There had even been discussions about recording some of his people's mythological history interpretations. He seemed excited about the opportunity. Unfortunately that will never happen. We have lost a good friend whose message has been silenced. June's words however live within the hearts and minds of his family and friends. His voice has been hushed; his story only partially told. We will greatly miss this link to the past, and hope that he is resting peacefully among his ancestors.


June Blackhorse

It was only a short time ago that my wife, Laurie, my youngest daughter, McKale, and I were traveling to Monument Valley to enjoy watching my son, Spenser, play basketball. My middle child, Alyssa, had opted out of the trip to attend volleyball practice. It was a late winter evening, and the sun was just dropping below the horizon as we began our descent into this sacred land of the Navajo. There were thin bands of wispy, purple clouds partially obscuring the setting sun, which was a fiery ball of orangeish red. I thought of the Navajo Sun God, Johonaaei, settling into the home of his mate Asdzaa Nadleehe, (Changing Woman), at the end of a glorious day's travel across the sky.

The Navajo people believe that the monolithic upthrusts springing from the valley floor are remnants of the great beasts destroyed by their hero, Monster Slayer, in ancient times. Garnets found in certain areas are believed to be the crystalized blood of the giants which was dispersed during the violent struggle. As we approached the massive monoliths which give Monument Valley its name, we were graced with an awe inspiring sight. The dark shadow of night had already fallen on the eastern facing surface of the rock, but the backlight was an incredible blood red color. It was a breath-taking vision, the kind that makes you realize you are but a minute element in nature's harmony and balance. Towering black forms of sandstone backlit by refracted sunlight and framed with linear cloud forms became mythological impressions before our eyes. The vision we witnessed was one that few artists dare to recreate due to their natural inability to properly portray nature's spectacular exhibitions.

That panoramic scene, along with the legends of the Navajo people running through my mind brought goose bumps to my skin, and a tickle that ran up my spine. It is an experience I will cherish as long as I live. I sincerely doubt that images and occurrences such as these would effect me as they do without the influences of people like Hosteen Blackhorse. It is people like June who make such occasions memorable. I greatly appreciate informants such as Mr. Blackhorse for sharing his unique and fascinating world with those of us from the outside. I am also deeply saddened at the loss of a remarkable human being and his wealth of information. I know that from this day forward there will be an empty seat at the cafe where Hosteen Blackhorse spent a great deal of his time. He came often to enjoy a brief meal, a cup of coffee and his family and friends who work and congregate there. "Hagoonee, Hosteen, (Good-bye). Take your place among the stars. You will be missed."



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