By Bill Harlan,
Journal staff
"A Senate committee killed a bill Wednesday that would have subjected county zoning decisions to public votes.
"Sen. Tom Katus, D-Rapid City, sponsored the bill, saying it was in response to protests about bars and concert venues encroaching on Bear Butte during the Sturgis motorcycle rally.
"Katus told member of the Senate State Affairs Committee that many tribes consider Bear Butte sacred. "This is the same as their wailing wall, their Dome of the Rock; this is the same as Rome to most of the native people who practice the traditional religions," he said.
"Katus said the Meade County Commission had refused to allow a countywide vote on a related issue.
"Sen. Mac McCracken, R-Rapid City, wondered whether allowing voters to refer planning and zoning decisions would slow development. 'Would this make development in a community more difficult?' he asked. 'I'm talking about multi-million dollar developments.'
"'Quite possibly,' Katus said. But he added, 'The voters of the county should have the right to refer that.'
"Katus said he supported the motorcycle rally, but he also argued, 'There are other values other than just bottom line greedy capitalism and there are religious issues, especially for the Lakota.'
"State Agriculture Secretary Larry Gabriel spoke against the measure. 'I understood Sen. Katus when he talked about Bear Butte, but this bill goes much, much further than that,' Gabriel said. 'It touches everyone in South Dakota.'
"Yvonne Taylor, representing the South Dakota Municipal League, also opposed the bill, saying people already can refer to public votes zoning ordinances themselves. After the ordinances are in place, she said, they should apply to everyone. 'This is trying to make us pick and choose who the rules apply to,' she said.
"Speaking in favor of the bill, Ed Raventon of the South Dakota Resources Coalition said 'one man, one vote' and 'local control' were 'at the very heart of the democratic process in America.'
Sen. Ed. Olson, R-Mitchell, said America was a representative democracy. 'If we want to be Switzerland, let's be Switzerland,' he said.
"But he didn't want to be Switzerland, and neither did the committee, which voted 7-2 to kill the measure without a vote of the full Senate."
A note from the Ex-Pat
Senate Bill 113 was basically the last-ditch attempt to bring a Native voice to the Bear Butte issue.
The Meade County Commissioners have a tradition of ushering in any development that could bring much-needed income for the economically bereft county. Sturgis County Line was one of those developments that was passed with the warm blessings of the county commissioners.
Originally, it was envisioned with a statue of a praying Native American facing Bear Butte, thankfully, the best compromise in the situation didn't include sculptural blasphemy. Small favors.
It completely enrages me that Sturgis County Line was allowed to be constructed and operate in time for the 2006 Sturgis Rally. And the state's singular cash-cow continues on chewing the cud of discarded respect for Native American beliefs. I foresee a tipi-like resort near Spirit Mound in the state's east river area for anyone who's game.
Really, in what book does allowing the residents of a county to vote on issues affecting them and allow free discussion qualify as socialist?
In the beginning of American democracy, only white, land-owning men were allowed to vote, the slippery slope has, indeed made us godless Communists: gerrymandering made illegal and the suffrage of 18 year-old, American-born or naturalized citizens who don't vote anyway, we're long overdue for our smiting.
South Dakotans have a proud tradition of, even in its largest city, being known as egalitarian in the small-town sense. We've often beat our breasts, gnashed our teeth and wailed at the confines of state governmental interference -- or so our Republican citizenry would have us believe. So why would allowing control of a strictly local matter be seen as anything but truly Republican?
The only solace I take is that my state senator, Scott Heidepriem, was one of the two dissenting votes against deferring the vote to the 41st day of the session.
I remember climbing Bear Butte when I was a young, idealistic 18 year-old.
It was a treacherous climb for someone, like myself, who has never had to climb anything taller than the flight of stairs in the tallest building in all of Todd County. If memory doesn't exaggerate, one of our number even encountered a snake along the way.
I consumed no less than 18 gallons of water along the way to keep me hydrated and as the sun beat down on my dark complexion and longish hair, I remember wondering why I'd ever agreed to this climb in the first place and why, by the way, wasn't it getting any cooler as we ascended to the altitude? In a word, it was hell. And I haven't climbed it once since.
But the one thing that makes want to endeavor on that trek taken up is what I saw when I got to the top.
It is remarkably silent at the top of Bear Butte.
It is also -- for lack of a better Word-A-Day word -- completely pretty.
You can see for miles.
I looked down upon the Black Hills and saw, what I was told was, Pike's Peak.
There are platforms built up there, aside from wondering how exactly the hell one hauls lumber up the slopes I spied earnestly-placed tobacco ties. Like Tibetan prayer flags, tobacco ties are an entreaty unto the being[s] that hold our destiny in their/its hands. Made facing the West, tobacco ties are a meditation as well as hopes, they require a one-track mind set in prayer and their number correspond to each family's [or tiospaye] tradition. In my own family, to pray for intercession requires 16 ties of red while a prayer of thanks requires 15 ties of each color - red, white, black and yellow.
I'm told that our great leader, and distant relative, Crazy Horse ascended Bear Butte more than a century ago to pray. He was given a vision, among which was passed down, an augury of a monster with many glowing eyes. As it snaked its way closer to the butte, he saw that it was not a single creature, but a line of two-eyed things. Perhaps a vision of the future highways going along the countryside? I leave it to the Lakota theologists to parse.
But now, there is a biker bar, camping grounds and raw sewage pumping adjacent to the butte.
As a "Rapid Replier" said on the article: "Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull, and Geronomo gave thier lives in an attempt to preserve our sacred lands. I believe they are looking down from the sky and asking themselves 'What else is there left to take?'"