THE GRANGER-DUDE
Apparently Grange had forgotten to bring Kira’s scooter back from Aunt Cindy’s, and Kira had given him the what for. Grange, being the sensitive type, had taken it personally and migrated to the safety and isolation of the rock. At three years old, he says many things he doesn’t fully understand. He knew quite well, however, that Kira had pierced him with her well placed barb.
Jana and I have often debated the merits of raising our children around the trading post, and have generally concluded that it has been good for them. Because they were raised in the store, the kids are extremely comfortable meeting and talking with new people. They also seem to be picking up a few trading post techniques along the way. I worry a little about what Barry teaches them when I’m not looking, but fear nothing can be done. Up to now, the most serious offense I have identified is his use of candy, mostly Starbursts, to wheedle hugs and kisses from them. They come in the store calling “Uncle Barry”, and shortly thereafter I notice their teeth impacted with sticky goo and a smile on his face.
Kira will crowd next to children visiting the store and say, “Hi, I’m Kira,” hoping to engage them in a little play. The Navajo kids often seem unsure about her forward approach, but, after a shy moment or two, generally warm up to her overtures. Grange, who parrots everything Kira does, has started riding the scooter up to the door and announcing to anyone who happens to be inside, “Hi, I’m Grange.”
Navajo people tend to be a little introverted, so they are sometimes shocked by the boldness of Kira and Grange. The ones who have been around the store for a while, however, seem genuinely interested in them. Kira and Grange are allowed to participate when photographs are being taken, and are also frequently invited to take part in a variety of other trading post rituals. We have several nice pictures of Mary Black and her daughters holding a beautiful basket in one hand and Kira or Grange in another.
The other day I was at the restaurant and stopped to help an older Navajo gentleman with something. After his request was satisfied, I asked him if everything was okay. He responded by saying, “Pretty good all right.” I hadn’t heard that particular Navajoism for a long time, so the statement, combined with Grange’s comment about Kira, started me thinking about several former Bluff residents.
Many of my earliest memories of Bluff relate to the mid-1960s and St. Christopher’s mission. Because I was so young, I don’t really recall much about Father Liebler, the central figure at the mission. I have often been told, however, that he was a hugely charismatic figure. I do remember him striding around Bluff, wearing his black cassock and long gray hair. He seemed a gentle man with a heart as big as this land. When I was older, I stumbled onto his book, Boil My Heart For Me. I was intrigued and confounded by the title.
As I discovered much later, when Father Liebler arrived in Bluff automobiles were not widely known, and the Navajo people were just developing words to describe the parts and processes of their cars and trucks. Tires were referred to as shoes, and the automobile’s battery was its heart. When the car’s heart was broken (the battery was dead), Father Liebler and his staff were asked to boil (jump start) it.
Father Liebler had a unique way of patching Bluff’s many broken hearts during that time. People often stop by the trading post and tell us stories about Father Liebler, Brother Juniper, Brother Joseph, Joan, Helen and the other founders of St. Christopher’s. Recently a couple wandered into the trading post and began talking about their 1953 visit to the mission. They smiled widely as they told of several young Navajo boys they had met. Once the children became comfortable with the visitors, the boys laid out a proposition. “Let’s play cowboys and Indians,” the young men said. The boys went on to say, “We’ll be the cowboys, and you be the Indians.” The elderly couple chuckled as they remembered the incident.
Many of Bluff’s old people are gone, and those little cowboys are fully grown. I hope my children will be filled with the affection I have for Bluff, and trust that Grange’s heart will soon mend.
Copyright©2002 Twin Rocks Trading Post
No comments:
Post a Comment