Broken Hearts

After Duke’s recent passing, Barry, Priscilla and I are a bit nostalgic and have been reminiscing about some of the more memorable moments we have had together over the past 30 years. I admit that becoming an empty-nester has also caused me to think a lot about Kira and Grange. So, recently, as I sat on the porch after a long day in the trading post, I recalled a time when Grange was suffering from a heart ailment.

At the time, I noticed Grange hunkered down on the Sunbonnet Rock with his back to me. At first, I didn’t notice anything wrong, but when I spoke to him, he did not respond. After a little prompting, he blurted out, “Kira broke my heart!”

Apparently Grange had forgotten to return Kira’s scooter and had accordingly been given 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 said many things he didn't fully understand. He knew perfectly well, however, that Kira had pierced his heart with the well-placed barb.

Jana and I have often debated the merits of raising our children in Bluff and around the trading post, generally concluding it was good for them. Because they were brought up in the store, the kids are extremely comfortable meeting and talking with new and diverse people. Early on, I worried about what Barry might have taught them when I wasn't looking. Back then, the most serious offense I was able to identify was Barry's use of candy, mostly Starbursts, to wheedle hugs and kisses out of them. So, other than an extra cavity or two over the years, there seems to have been no significant long-term damage.

Back then, hoping to engage them in a little play time, Kira often crowded next to children visiting the store and said, “Hi, I’m Kira.” Navajo kids at times seemed uneasy with this forward approach, but, after a shy moment or two, generally warmed up to the overture. Grange, who parroted everything Kira did, would ride the scooter up to the door and announce to anyone who happened to be inside, “Hi. I’m Grange.”

In my experience, Navajo people tend to be somewhat introverted, so they were at times shocked by the boldness of Kira and Grange. The ones who had been around us a while, however, seemed genuinely interested in the kids. Kira and Grange were always allowed to participate when photographs were being taken. As a result, we have several nice pictures of Mary Holiday Black and her daughters holding a beautiful basket in one hand and Kira or Grange in the other.

The other day, I was at Twin Rocks Cafe and stopped to help an elderly Navajo gentleman with something. After his request was satisfied, I asked if everything was okay. He responded by saying, “Pretty good all right.” I hadn’t heard that particular Navajo-ism for a long time, so the statement, combined with Duke’s passing and the memory of Grange’s interaction with 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 recall much about Rev. 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 tied up with string. 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, and was both intrigued and confounded by the title. As I discovered while reading the text, when Liebler arrived in Bluff automobiles were not widely known, and Navajo people were just developing words to describe car parts and processes. As a result, 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), Liebler and his staff were asked to boil (jump-start) it. Father Liebler had a unique way of patching Bluff’s many broken hearts.

People often stop by Twin Rocks and tell us stories about the priest, Brother Juniper, Brother Joseph, Joan, Helen and the other founders of St. Christopher’s. Recently a couple wandered in and began talking about their 1953 visit to the mission. They smiled widely as they told of several young Navajo boys they met. Once these children became comfortable with their visitors, the Navajo boys laid out a proposition. “Let’s play cowboys and Indians. We’ll be the cowboys and you be the Indians.” The elderly couple chuckled as they remembered the incident.

Many of Bluff’s elders are gone, or going. Those little cowboys are elderly, and Kira and Grange are old enough to be on their own adventures. Wherever they choose to reside, I hope my children will be filled with the wonder and affection I have for Bluff, and trust that Grange’s heart properly mended all those years ago.