I did, however, notice that the Navajo women of my early childhood were regal in their blouses adorned with silver dimes, quarters and the occasional fifty cent piece. Although I knew those coins could buy me enough candy and pop to make me hurl something besides dirt clods, I don’t remember ever wanting to relieve the Navajo ladies of their adornments. I must have felt the coins served a higher purpose accenting the velveteen than they would purchasing soda pop.
When I returned to this pink sandstone paradise in 1989, money was more of a concern. I had left my job in Sacramento, California at the age of 30, and was beginning to feel that I may have missed my financial QE II. In fact, I began to wonder whether I had bought a ticket on the Titanic; my future appeared to be taking on water.
Fourteen years later, something arrived on my desk that has made me begin to reconsider my financial disability. No, it wasn’t the death of a rich uncle leaving me a cornucopia of cash; all my uncles are already gone, with never the hint of inheritance. The thing that has made me begin to reconsider my conclusions was a book; a thesis actually.
Generally, Barry avoids the chaos of my office unless there are serious matters to be discussed. There he was, however, peeking around the door frame, with a green rectangular thing in his hand. “What’s that?” I asked, in my most congenial voice, since he seemed to hold the object in great regard. “A book!” he said. “I know that,” said I, “but what kind of book?” He handed me the explanatory note that had come with the treasure.
The note indicated that Kay was sending us a copy of her son’s master’s thesis, entitled Jens Nielson, Bishop of Bluff, because she thought we might enjoy reading it. “Oh,” I said, still trying to sound pleasant, “let me see.” I am sure Barry thought I would immediately return it since I had obviously fooled him with my kindness, but he has been sadly disappointed; I have kept it and been carefully studying its contents ever since. He now worries that he may never get it back.
As indicated by its title, the thesis focuses on Mormon Bishop Jens Nielson. The background and history relating to the colonization and development of Bluff is, however, what has captured my attention. The book details the problems our early settlers had just getting to this location, not to mention the problems associated with taming the San Juan River, raising crops and dealing with the local tribes. The thesis describes Bluff as “the back eddy of empires”, and quotes Parley Butt, one of the early pioneers as saying, “When God finished makin’ the world he had a lot of rocks left over an’ he threw them down here in a pile in Utah.” Those two statements accurately describe our little town.
As the pioneers attempted to gain a foothold in this difficult land, the river frequently destroyed their hopes for an abundant crop. The wind blew red dust into every crack and crevice of their log homes, covering the settlers and their belongings with a continuous film. Skirmishes between the Mormon pioneers and the Navajo, Ute and Paiute people sometimes turned deadly. The settlers also thought their economic ship would never arrive, but through hard work, faith and perseverance, they eventually succeeded.
Although we have always survived the raiding parties of our contemporary Navajo basket and rug weaving adversaries, Barry and I know we are in for a scalping when the Holidays, Blacks or Rocks arrive at the trading post. Generally, the skirmishes involve lots of comparisons, protestations and haggling; sometimes even coin tossing and arm wrestling, but when we are done everyone is still healthy and generally happy. The weavers almost always come out more healthy and happy than Barry and I, but we have become accustomed to that result.
Steve Simpson with an artist at Twin Rocks Trading Post
The pioneers believed there was a higher purpose to their settlement of Bluff, so do Barry and I; we just don’t yet know what it is.
Copyright©2004 Twin Rocks Trading Post
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