Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,101
for at least three men’s deaths, possibly more. He deserved to hang. Her father had gone earlier in the day to act as a spiritual advisor to Clint, but Clint wanted no part of it. He said God was immaterial to him. That saddened Connie even more. Whom could he turn to for comfort as he faced death, if not God? How did people without God even manage to face daily life, much less death?
“Stories are told,” Mrs. Jackson continued, “of the cunning Indian waiting for the cover of darkness to kill those foolish enough to wander into their traps. Others paint pictures of the lazy Indian who is unwilling to learn a trade, much less go to that job each day and produce for himself a good living with which he can support his family. Lies abound when speaking of the American Indian because they have no one to defend them. I am here to do just that.
“It might surprise you to know that the Indians of most reservations are self-sustaining. They raise crops and hunt. They utilize various parts of animals killed for making clothing, furnishings, food, and medicines. They even manage in many locations to raise or catch animals and fish that they sell to white men for additional income. They are, of course, cheated at every turn by those who feel they are undeserving of a fair price.
“If I might dare read from Isaiah fifty-three—a verse that referenced our Lord Jesus, but a verse that well applies to our poor Indian brethren.” She moved behind the podium again and opened a Bible. “‘He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.’”
Mrs. Jackson looked out over the audience. “I put it to you that the American Indian is despised and rejected of men. They are well acquainted with grief. Only a few short years ago, a terrible massacre occurred in the Arizona Territory, brutally taking the lives of Apaches who had long been peaceful and under the direction of the authorities at Camp Grant. Women and children were murdered without leaving a single babe alive. This terrible act was accomplished by white people from nearby settlements and towns. When the camp doctor was sent to lend aid, he came back to report that there was no one alive to whom he could minister.
“The Indian has been despised, and ‘we hid as it were our faces from him.’” She paused and closed the Bible. “Please do not think me blasphemous or think that I am comparing the Indian to our Savior and Lord. It is just that these Scriptures depict the heart of the matter when we reject those whose skin is not the same color as ours. Now, you might say, ‘But, Mrs. Jackson, the Indians also attacked and made war on the white people.’ This is true, but I challenge you with this question. At what provocation?
“There are many stories passed down regarding Indian attacks during the wild frontier days, massacres and wrongs done to innocent white families. I do not suggest that either side is perfect, but I do suggest that we are more than willing to look away—completely forget the wrongs our own people have done. Well-respected military officials have testified on record that in nearly every case of attack by the Indians, we were the ones who made the first act of aggression.”
Mrs. Jackson spoke for nearly an hour, and when she concluded, there was thunderous applause, and everyone stood to honor her. Connie thought her marvelous. She had defended her beliefs not only with great passion, but with statements of proof from documents provided by honorable men, including more than one president. Connie hoped and prayed her teachings would educate the people and cause them to give up their desire to drive the Indians to the far north. Perhaps in time, if the two peoples could just find common ground, they might learn to work together.
“Wasn’t she marvelous?” Mama said.
Connie gave a brief nod. “I was just thinking that. I hope we have a chance to meet her.”
“Faith said she would try to introduce us, but I believe the entire audience is hoping for that chance. We may simply have to be content with having heard her speak.”
“I am glad I didn’t miss it,” Connie admitted. She looked over at Tom. “Did you enjoy her talk?”