The local eagles
By: Stan Jordan
Yes, our local eagle nest, just east of town, was destroyed by a violent wind storm on the night of November 28th.
I don’t have anything to report on that, for sure, but this is what my readers have told me.
A few days ago a man, about four miles east of town, spotted five eagles in his back yard. Two adults and three young ones. Now you go by the white head, a bald eagle does not get white feathers on his head till he’s about four years old.
I have reports of the eagles sitting on limbs by the old nest, but I was just down that way and I didn’t see any action at all.
I talked with a person this morning and he had seen five eagles yesterday just a short distance west of town. I surely hope this family of eagles stays together and stay in the area. They surely are a fine conversation piece.
See ya!
What is Justice?
By: Stan Jordan
Somewhere in northern Indiana a lady killed her two children. As I understand the children had different fathers, but the fathers are seldom mentioned in the press releases.
I just can’t fathom the fact that she did that job and planned on doing it. What was in her mind? She appears to be sane, at least at a level where she knew what she did was wrong and went to the police.
I know she was having man trouble, but to take it out on the children is just unthinkable. She has to be insane to some degree. She is their mother, she brought them into the world.
If she is brought to trial and is given the death penalty, that, to me, is the easy way out for her and the county judicial system.
If they give her life without parole, in a small cell, with no entertainment facility to where her mind and conscious dwells 24 hours a day on what she has done, she will be insane in a few years. If she does have a conscious it will be on her mind 24 hours a day, that will be worse than death.
If they give her the death sentence then she will automatically get an appeal and that could take twenty more years.
Then the grieving grandmother of these children will not see any justice, but besides that, that county will have to pay about $48.00 a day for 20 years to pay for her keep. Now where is the justice here?
If she gets life without parole and they put her in a cell with no entertainment facilities and all she can do is think about the wrong she has done, she will form a conscious and it will eat her up. She will probably develop suicidal ideas.
But I imagine the “Do Gooders” will claim that is cruel and unusual punishment and they won’t let that happen. Where is the justice here?
It is sure that whatever the judge’s decision , not everyone will be satisfied.
See ya!
Sam Rivers, Indian Agent Chapter 15: Delivering the Blankets
By: Stan Jordan
It is the usual hot weather that you get in Nebraska Territory in the summer. We are a train of three wagons. Callie and I in the first wagon, the other wagons are carrying the blankets and supplies from Fort Kearney to the Lakota people. The third wagon was of the engineer squad and they are back at camp building a bridge over the creek.
We got into the camp in the middle of the afternoon with the usual talking and making welcome and a couple rounds of smoking the peace pipe.
I sat down with White Elk and Limping Buffalo and told them why we came and the contents of the wagons. We have 164 blankets, one for each and every person in the camp. I would like to have Little Beaver to help with the registering of everyone and them receiving the blankets.
White Elk said he didn’t think he would help and to let Little Beaver take his place. He said he was getting too old and he doesn’t feel like it either. White Elk’s color does not look good. We set all of the plans and instructions of the issuing of the blankets and requested for mid-morning.
Then Callie and I ate supper with the four soldiers, and I asked the boys if it would be alright for Little Beaver to eat with us. I want him to learn all he can about us and as soon as he can. He wants to be a Shaman like his father, Limping Buffalo.
We ate some of the Army Stew that the Mess Sergeant had sent along with some peaches.
We talked long into the night and knew we had a pretty good plan for tomorrow. It was a nice warm June evening and the time passed very quickly.
About 10:00 a.m. or mid-morning, everyone was lined up to the table where Limping Buffalo called each Indian’s name in their dialect. Then Little Beaver called and wrote down each one’s name that he was known by such as Limping Buffalo and Little Beaver. It is almost impossible to pronounce some of those Indian names.
They were very glad to get a new blanket. This was their first from the U.S. government. We asked each lady if they would like a sewing kit. We also gave each a first aid kit. It took about three hours to give out the blankets. We worked right through the noon time.
Our soldier boys went down and helped with the garden as they had nothing to do.
I guess everyone took their blankets to their Wicki-ups and all the kids and some of the adults played games right up to supper time.
The Indian ladies had their version of vegetable soup and then a sort of a corn meal cookie. (Something like southern folks call hush puppies.) They were very good and ever better with a little honey on them. Some had a little onion and some even a little hot pepper. It seemed like each squaw had her own recipe and they were proud of their own.
We all met that next morning and paid our respects to White Elk. Even the 4 soldiers came and shook hands. White Elk even showed a little smile once.
White Elk spoke quite a bit through the interpreter, Little Beaver. “We are mighty grateful to the White Man leader for the blankets and other gifts.”
He was really grateful but all the excitement wore him out.
We loaded up the two wagons and after a fashion we got started for home. Moe had ridden his horse over here and I gave him permission to go on ahead and ride home alone. With a steady lope he can be back at the agency and have supper with the Mess Sergeant.
We bounced along with Limping Buffalo and his son, Little Beaver, in one wagon on the return trail headed south to the agency. It was a nice day and rode right up to supper time.
After supper we all sat around and talked about how the natives liked their blankets. They don’t have many blankets, they only had deer skins and buffalo hides.
We left the camp we had at the river crossing and rode right on home to the agency.
Moe had put on a pot of beans and we tore into them. We didn’t stop for lunch; it is about 3:00 p.m. now.
See ya!
