POTLATCH
The potlatch is the most distinctive custom of the Indians of the Pacific Northwest. It is both a social gathering and an important business event. They were traditionally given by a high-ranking chief to mark an important occasion, such as a birth, death, or marriage. Guests of every social station, and even slaves, were invited to the potlatches, where they were served a lavish feast; entertained with games, contests of strength, songs, and dancing; and presented with multiple gifts. Before outside contact, the gifts were furs, copper, carved masks, Chilkat blankets, and slaves. At the time of my story, a mix of modern and traditional gifts were given. The host of the potlatch would speak, sometimes at great length, about what the feast was honoring. At the birth of a child, for example, a name or names would be given, an inheritance established, regalia received, and the rights to certain songs, stories, dances, and masks described in detail. The guests served as witnesses to the legal transactions announced at the potlatch. The gifts were a payment for their witness, with the expectation that they would remember and uphold the rights established at the potlatch. Both Canada and the United States suppressed potlatching from the 1880s to 1951, confiscating potlatch gifts and arresting those who participated. This forced the practice underground for a few generations, and the details of how a potlatch is given have evolved. For example, they are now commonly held in school gyms. But the custom of Native people gathering to sing and dance and distribute gifts and remember who they are remains strong from the Olympic Peninsula all the way up the coast to Alaska.
PETROGLYPHS
In the 1920s, logging roads were built all over the Olympic Peninsula, and car ownership was fairly common. However, Ozette Beach was not and still is not connected to a road, so canoe was the primary mode of transportation. There is a small tract of reservation land at Ozette, and the surrounding coastline is part of the Olympic National Park. There are park trails along the beaches where Pearl mended her canoe and discovered her petroglyphs. They are some of the most scenic hikes in the region, but harsh weather and quickly rising tides make them dangerous for inexperienced hikers. The petroglyphs in the story are my own creation, but the Wedding Rock petroglyphs can be seen on the beach about a mile south of Ozette. Rock art of this kind is found all over the Pacific Northwest, although often not in easily accessible places. There is no agreement among Native and non-Native scholars about the purpose of this art form, so the meaning and use of the ancient stone carvings remains a mystery even for those who dwell closest to them.
EPIDEMICS AND ECONOMIC CHANGE
One of the reasons that the meaning of the petroglyphs was lost was the catastrophic death toll among the coastal tribes from unfamiliar diseases. Smallpox came to Neah Bay in the spring of 1853. The disease ravaged the town and surrounding villages for six weeks. There was no count made of the lives lost, but I met a senior at Neah Bay who said his grandfather had told him that when a person sickened with the little red spots, there was no hope. They went right away to the beach to lie down in the sand so that when they died, their body would be carried away by the tide. He said, “There were not enough living to bury the dead.”
The influenza epidemic of 1918, which took Pearl’s mother and baby sister, affected not only Native Americans but the entire world, and caused between 20 million and 40 million deaths. Most of those who fell ill were otherwise healthy adults who succumbed to the disease quickly, sometimes dying within hours of the first symptoms.
Pearl’s desire to keep an object belonging to her mother, and then to her father, and her belief that those objects would speak to her reflect not a cultural practice but an individual and deeply human response to sudden loss and overwhelming grief.
The 1920s and ’30s were a time of great upheaval for the entire nation, and the tribes of the Pacific Northwest were no exception. Many traditional village sites were abandoned either permanently or intermittently as people moved to find work in the timber and fishing industries. Before labor unions took hold, many of those jobs were fraught with peril for workers of all backgrounds. Sometimes Native and immigrant communities lived and worked together in relative harmony. Other times there was friction. The incident in the movie theater was from my own imagination, yet every Native reader who has read that scene has said, yes, I remember this—both the deliberate shunning and the choice to respond with humor.
ART COLLECTORS AND
NATURAL RESOURCE MANAGEMENT
I lived in Germany shortly after my time in Taholah, and my neighbors there were intrigued to hear I’d lived on an Indian reservation. Most had read a bit of the history of the American West, an interest sparked by collections of Native American art and artifacts in the museums of France and Germany. Their curiosity got me thinking about and researching how totem poles and canoes and ceremonial robes came to be housed half a world away from their makers. The history of artifact collecting and curio selling is a long and mostly sad one. In setting my story after the heyday of museum and exhibition collecting, I gave my characters a chance to approach a collector with the benefit of experience, which allows them to see through his ruse and protect not just their regalia but also their natural resources.
There is no Shipwreck Cove on the Olympic coast, although several ships have run aground on its shores. Natural gas, coal, and oil are present in the region but are not abundant enough to make extraction worthwhile. The history of exploitation of Native tribes for their natural resources is also a long and painful one. But one of the things I admire most about the tribes of the Pacific Northwest is their longtime championing of self-determination of natural resources. Joe DeLaCruz was the chairman of the Quinaults when I lived there and was a well-known pioneer in this cause. He was the key player in the showdown at Chow Chow Bridge—a civil-rights story that I very much hope will be written by a Quinault author. An account of the resumption of whaling also cries out for a full telling by a Makah writer. There is a wealth of tales living among the tribes of the Pacific Northwest, along with the centuries-old cedars and pristine waterways. I can’t wait to hear what they have to say in a story of their own.
Resources
FOR YOUNG READERS
Lelooska Foundation, Ariel, Washington. lelooska.org Makah Cultural and Research Center, Neah Bay, Washington, and its museum exhibit leaflet, “The Makah Tribal Council,” 1979.
Normandin, Christine, ed. Echoes of the Elders: The Stories and Paintings of Chief Lelooska. New York: DK Ink, 1997.
Normandin, Christine, ed. Spirit of the Cedar People: More Stories and Paintings of Chief Lelooska. New York: DK Ink, 1998.
There are exhibits of art and artifacts from the tribes of the Pacific Northwest in many museums and art galleries around the world. Here are a few you might visit:
American Museum of Natural History, New York
The Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture, Seattle
The Field Museum, Chicago
National Museum of the American Indian, Washington, DC
Royal British Columbia Museum, Victoria, British Columbia
FOR OLDER READERS
Cole, Douglas. Captured Heritage: The Scramble for Northwest Coast Artifacts. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1985.
Jensen, Doreen, and Polly Sargent. Robes of Power: Totem Poles on Cloth. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1987.
Kirk, Ruth. Tradition and Change on the Northwest Coast. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1986.
Kirk, Ruth, with Richard D. Daugherty. Hunters of the Whale: An Adventure in Northwest Coast Archaeology. New York: Morrow Junior Books, 1974.
Glossary
With two exceptions the non-English words in this book are in the Quinault language. Historically, the Quinaults did not have a written language; however, in the late 1800s when historians came to study the Quinaults and collect their art and cultural artifacts, they also recorded their language using a notation system developed in France by the International Phonetic Association. This system uses Roman
letters plus extra characters to represent sounds not found in the Roman alphabet. For example, a question mark is used for the glottal stop—the pause in sound when you say “uh-oh.”
For students in the Taholah School District, Quinault language and culture is a core subject. These students learn Quinault using simplified phonetic spellings, which I have replicated in the first list of words below. Following that are the Quinault months of the year. These are written in the International Phonetic Alphabet, most commonly used by scholars and researchers.
Chitwin—Bear
Nah-gwee-nau—You are loved
Oo-nu-gwee-tu—Hello
Hamatsa mask—A group of elaborate and very heavy masks are used in a series of dances that tell the story of a person held by a cannibal spirit. Considerable prestige is associated with the performance of the Hamatsa dances.
Quelans—“Mind your quelans” is a common phrase meaning “mind your manners,” but also “be respectful of your position in the group,” “have respect for yourself,” and “have pride in your culture.”
The numbers from one to ten are: pau, saali, chakla, muus, tsilax, sitacha, tsoops, tsamus, tagwil, panaaks. The Quinaults begin their year in April to coincide with the vernal equinox and the return of the spring salmon runs. The months of the year are:
Pangwuh?am Huhnsha?ha—Time When the Geese Go By (April)
Panjulashxuhtltu—Time When the Blueback Return (May)
Pankwuhla—Time of Salmonberries (June)
Panklaswhas—Time to Gather Blackberries (July)
Panmuu?lak—Time of Warmth (August)
Ts okwanpitskitl—Leaves Are Getting Red on the Vine Maple (September)
Pan?silpaulos—Time of Autumn (October)
Panitpuhtuhkstista—Time When Clouds Are Covering (November)
Autxaltaanem—After the Sun Comes Back (December)
Panpamas—Time of Cold (January)
Panlaleah-kilech—Time of the Beach Willow (February)
Panjans—Time of the Sprouts (March)
Chinook jargon was a trade language used by the tribes of the region and also French and Russian-speaking trappers and traders and English-speaking settlers. Like any trade language, it was grammatically simple, borrowed words from a variety of sources, and was spoken with much local variation. Missionaries and researchers made some effort to record Chinook in the Roman alphabet, but it was never widely used as a written language.
Cheechako—Newcomer
Skookum—Powerful
Chinook is no longer spoken. However, many place names in the Pacific Northwest come from this language. For example, the Skookumchuck River means the Swiftwater River.
See-oh-kwee-al—Thank You
In my first year as a fifth-grade teacher at Taholah Elementary, my students asked me why there was never a book about them. We had a long conversation about why it was important to them. That conversation was the genesis of my life as a writer, not just of this book but all of them. My first and most heartfelt thanks goes to those children named at the be ginning of the book. I learned so much more from you than I ever taught.
I was very fortunate in those first years of my teaching career to be mentored by some of the most amazing women I have ever met. They not only showed me how to be a community leader and professional woman in the world, but also modeled the kind of spouse and mother and grandmother I hoped to become. Thank you, Pearl Capoeman-Baller, Crystal Sampson, Kathy Kowoosh Law, and Veronica “Mice” James. Kathy and Mice were kind enough to help me find reliable cultural research, make suggestions about key details in the narrative, and verify the Quinault language words.
I am grateful to the entire community in Taholah, who welcomed me so warmly. As a relative newcomer to the continent and a descendant of orphans, it was a revelation to spend time among people who have lived on the same ground for thousands of years, in walking distance of all their relatives, with family stories reaching back generations. You made me curious about my own heritage, which has made my own family’s life immeasurably richer in music and stories and dancing.
The resumption of whaling was a key inspiration for this story, and I am grateful to the Makah Nation for having kept their whaling history alive for all the generations it took for the whales to recover from near extinction by industrial whaling. Thank you to everyone who worked so hard to restore whaling rights to the Makah and to all who labor in the vineyard of self-determination of natural resources for Native people. Your gain in control of fishery, forestry, agricultural, and mineral rights is an opportunity for us all to learn alternatives to managing the world around us.
My most vivid childhood memory of a school field trip was the one my class took to Ariel, Washington, to hear the stories of Chief Lelooska—a renowned carver and artist, the adopted son of Chief James Aul Sewide of the Kwakiutl. We were welcomed into a firelit cedar longhouse, blessed with eagle down, and entertained with numerous stories. Each tale was accompanied by drumming and dancers in elaborately carved and animated masks and button blankets. It was living history at its finest, and it made a deep impression on me. I am grateful that Chief Lelooska kept his promise to his elders not to take the stories to the grave with him but to share them with coming generations. I am even more grateful to find that nearly twenty years after his death, Lelooska’s brother Chief Tsungani and the Lelooska Foundation are carrying on this valuable work for a new generation of schoolchildren.
I am indebted to my parents, who are unable to this day to drive past a museum of any kind and not stop for a visit. They nurtured a habit of inquiry that has served me well. I am grateful to the many people who preserved and recorded the culture of the Pacific Northwest tribes for future generations. Thank you to my editor, Jim Thomas, for listening so generously, and to the entire team at Random House, who have been so supportive in giving voice to communities that are easy to overlook.
Thank you to Andrea Burke, who shared her thoughts on author notes, and to her colleagues, the school librarians of the Beaverton school district, who provided me with a childhood full of books. They continue to provide my own children with all the books they need, and wonderful library programming as well. We are particularly grateful for the Newbery Clubs, the Oregon Reader’s Choice Awards, and the Oregon Battle of the Books.
Most of all, thank you to my husband, Bill, and our four children, who make room in our lives for stories.
About the Author
ROSANNE PARRY spent her first years as a teacher in Taholah, Washington, on the Quinault Indian reservation. There she learned to love the taste of alder-smoked Blueback salmon, the cold mists of the rain forest, the sounds of the ocean, and the rhythm of a life that revolved around not the clock and the calendar but the cycle of the salmon running up the river and returning to the ocean. While there she never met a child who could not tell her a story—usually one with a monster of epic proportions. The writer she became has everything to do with the people she came to cherish and the land between the Pacific and the Olympics, where stories seemed to grow out of the earth all around her, tall and sturdy as cedars.
To learn more, please visit RosanneParry.com.
Written in Stone Page 12