I lived with my folks when I became a witness at 18 years of age. My parents were surprised when I cut off my ponytail. They were upset when I wouldn’t re-enroll in college. My mom, the Catholic, decided to remain quiet after voicing her initial displeasure. My dad, the?, had found one more subject to joke about. His humor was usually dry, harmless, but pointed. As I headed off to a JW function he would always say, “Another meeting?”. Often this would be followed by “You used to be a much better person when you were a Catholic. You only needed one meeting a week then. You need to learn how to be as good as I am, I don’t need any meetings!”
On and on he would go. He never tried to stop me. He always tried to help. We wore the same size coat and belts. He worked on my tie knots and I had free access to his wardrobe. When he had to travel on business we planned how we were going to share that wardrobe.
I spent less time, in those days, with my folks than I should have. They were “worldlings” and considered bad association. I began pioneering and moved out of my family home as soon as I could afford it, to live with other pioneers. Of course, my folks helped me financially. They always took very good care of their kids.
My dad died when he was 52, my mom followed a few years later. We knew where my mom's strength came from. My siblings and I often discussed where my father found his. We finally decided that it was from his Native American heritage of which he was so proud, but would seldom discuss. He was one of the finest and brightest men I’ve ever known. He was a natural leader, very athletic but quiet, kind, and generous. I'd give almost anything to have just a few more hours with him now.
When I read stories like this, I think of him.
(Red Jacket explains why he does not like missionaries)
“They do us no good. If they are not useful to the white people and do them no good, why do they send them among the Indians? If they are useful to the white people and do them good, why do they not keep them at home? They [the white men] are surely bad enough to need the labor of everyone who can make them better. These men [the missionaries] know we do not understand their religion. We cannot read their book – they tell us different stories about what it contains, and we believe they make the book talk to suit themselves. If we had no money, no land and no country to be cheated out of, these black coats would not trouble themselves about our good hereafter. The Great Spirit will not punish us for what we do not know. He will do justice to his red children. These black coats talk to the Great Spirit, and ask for light that we may see as they do, when they are blind themselves and quarrel about the light that guides them. These things we do not understand, and the light which they give us makes the straight and plain path trod by our fathers, dark and dreary. The black coats tell us to work and raise corn; they do nothing themselves and would starve to death if someone did not feed them. All they do is to pray to the Great Spirit; but that will not make corn and potatoes grow; if it will why do they beg from us and from the white people. The red men knew nothing of trouble until it came from the white men; as soon as they crossed the great waters they wanted our country, and in return have always been ready to teach us to quarrel about their religion. Red Jacket can never be friend of such men. If they [the Indians] were raised among white people, and learned to work and read as they do, it would only make their situation worse…. We are few and weak, but may for a long time be happy if we hold fast to our country, and the religion of our fathers.” –Red Jacket (c. 1824)