The Great Wanderer

My great uncle was one of the wisest and most influential people in my life. He was always full of wise words and great stories. You see my uncle was a wanderer, a nomad if you will. He never stayed in one spot too long. It was a treat to see him when he would bless us with his presence. My uncle always made sure he had time to see his mom, my grandma Susan, any time he was in the area. Almost every time my uncle went to my grandma’s house, there was almost a 1,000% chance I was also there. I remember one time in particular, like it was yesterday.

One autumn morning, Great Uncle woke up my older sister and I at the crack of dawn to experience the beautiful orange and yellow sunrise. He woke me up first, because I was his favorite great niece. He squeezed my arm real gently to wake me up. Whispering his hot coffee breath in my ear, “Wake up my girl.” I grumbled as I rolled over, trying to open my crusted eyes. Since the weather had changed and the mornings were bitter with frost, the weather made my eyes all itchy. This was not unusual for my uncle to wake us up all hours of the night, as he was an unusual man with unusual habits—habits I did not understand at such a young age.

“What’s wrong Uncle?” I asked, as soon as everything came into focus and my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I scanned the room making eye contact with the skinny shadow by the windowsill. Without speaking, he motioned me towards the windowsill, where a steaming cup of hot chocolate and binoculars sat. Without hesitation, I jumped up and climbed onto the windowsill waiting for the next direction. After my sister woke, my uncle stood behind us staring at the sunrise. We sat in silence for a long while, enjoying the quietness. I glanced over at my sister, then at my uncle, then back to my sister, wondering what we were supposed to be doing.

As if on cue, I heard my uncle take a deep breath then a big drink from his coffee, then, with a sad voice, he said, “I hope you girls know I love you and I am so happy I get to spend this beautiful, peaceful morning with you. Be sure to take life slow, and don’t grow up too fast. Take pride in who you are and where you come from. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel dumb or slow just because of the color of your skin or the length of your hair.” I remember nodding as I took a big sip of my hot chocolate, pretending to know what he meant.

The sunrise was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The orange and red stretched out from the horizon as the big yellow ball of fire creeped through the trees; I wish I could have frozen time itself at that moment. I knew my uncle was planning on leaving for a long while again. He always seemed to spend time with me before hopping on the back of a train to head west for a few months.

My uncle was gone before I woke up again, which was unusual for him, as he always made sure to give me a hug before leaving. I remember not even a week later, our whole family was in the ICU looking at the lifeless body connected to ventilators and IV’s who was my uncle. He had been arrested for fishing on Detroit Lake without a fishing license. My uncle knew the law and was going to sue Becker County for illegally arresting and holding him. But before my uncle had the chance, he was found hanging in his cell. We were told he committed suicide, but this was not my uncle. My uncle was a fighter all his life, but the law fought harder to shut him up.

We had to pull the plug after 24 hours of no brain activity. I believe with my whole soul they killed my uncle. Sadly, it was never proven. Ever since that terrible day I always knew I wanted to go into tribal law to help advocate for my people.