The Battle of the Greasy Grass
June 25 marked the 140th anniversary of the Battle of the Greasy Grass, aka the Battle of the Little Bighorn.
I've long held a fascination for this one, and it got me kicked out of history class more than once -- one of those for bringing in personally collected photographic evidence that book and teacher were both wrong about a strategically relevant point of topography. I mean really, that battleground has been mapped and modeled over every inch, you'd think people would be more careful. There are whole shelves full of books about it, and I read a lot of them. We had to do some serious hunting to find the ones written by Lakota authors, but they exist.
When I was in junior high, we made a couple of long summer trips out west. One of the stops was the Little Bighorn, and we didn't realize it until we got there, but it was the anniversary of the battle. It was an uncommonly cool, damp, foggy day for the middle of summer in the middle of the plains. A low mist blanketed everything, stirring and stirring in the breeze. Everyone else was huddled in the visitor's center, because apparently, this had a habit of happening and the ghosts would get restless, particularly around the anniversary. Naturally this made us want to go out and hike around the site, since it wasn't broiling and wasn't crowded. The staff all looked at us like we were crazy. Well, we have houseghosts and some complicated distant connections to the folks on the Pine Ridge Reservation, so we were not deterred. It was very exciting to see the battlefield up close and take pictures of the important places. We saw a few of the ghosts, eddies in the mist, wisps of color seen through the corner of the eye. They never bothered us. Most of it was just sounds, whispers and hoof-thumps and such. History, resurfacing occasionally to remind people that what is gone should not be forgotten.
Never forget.
I've long held a fascination for this one, and it got me kicked out of history class more than once -- one of those for bringing in personally collected photographic evidence that book and teacher were both wrong about a strategically relevant point of topography. I mean really, that battleground has been mapped and modeled over every inch, you'd think people would be more careful. There are whole shelves full of books about it, and I read a lot of them. We had to do some serious hunting to find the ones written by Lakota authors, but they exist.
When I was in junior high, we made a couple of long summer trips out west. One of the stops was the Little Bighorn, and we didn't realize it until we got there, but it was the anniversary of the battle. It was an uncommonly cool, damp, foggy day for the middle of summer in the middle of the plains. A low mist blanketed everything, stirring and stirring in the breeze. Everyone else was huddled in the visitor's center, because apparently, this had a habit of happening and the ghosts would get restless, particularly around the anniversary. Naturally this made us want to go out and hike around the site, since it wasn't broiling and wasn't crowded. The staff all looked at us like we were crazy. Well, we have houseghosts and some complicated distant connections to the folks on the Pine Ridge Reservation, so we were not deterred. It was very exciting to see the battlefield up close and take pictures of the important places. We saw a few of the ghosts, eddies in the mist, wisps of color seen through the corner of the eye. They never bothered us. Most of it was just sounds, whispers and hoof-thumps and such. History, resurfacing occasionally to remind people that what is gone should not be forgotten.
Never forget.