Quanah…

Just polished off the book I mentioned in my last post.  I loved it.  I love learning about the people that have come before.  They offer so much through the examination of their lives.  I always come away inspired, challenged, saddened, and grateful.  Mostly challenged…

Toward the end of this read, Quanah, the last great Comanche Chief had been forced to surrender to the white man.  The white mans policy of “racial extermination” had reached it’s final solution.  Quanah was forced to quit.  Quanah was no quitter.  He was a hunter and a warrior.  He was a man of his word.  Sadly, many of my ancestors were NOT.

He and his people were forced to give up their OPUS so many white men could make their mark, stake their claim, and “sooner” than later, cash in on the “free” land offered by their “Great Father” in Washington.  Quanah, and his people, had been betrayed.

Amazingly, this leader did not remain bitter.  He was one of the few Indians that adapted to the white man’s world.  He never forgot who he was, yet he refused to live in the past.  He moved on, as painful as that must have been.  He tried to lead his team even when they lived in captivity.  He is someone worth studying.

Three months before he died, he had the remains of his white mother reinterred at the Post Oak Mission in Cache, Oklahoma.  He had been looking for her grave for over 2 years.  I love what he said in fractured English at her ceremony.  What a great example of being clear, concise, and direct.  Here it is.

“Forty years ago my mother died.  She captured by Comanches, nine years old.  Love Indian and wild life so well, no want to go back to white folks.  All same people anyway, God say.  I love my mother.”

God bless Quanah.  God bless the Comanches.  God bless America.

God help me LOVE people…