Day 11

The setting of our campsite really was peaceful. I wish we could stay but we have a time constraint. G3 needs to get back for summer camp. And I need to be able to do his laundry and he needs to pack. I slept as well as I could on rocky ground. I did wake up in the middle of the night thinking someone was shining a flashlight in my eyes, but it was the moon. It looked full, or almost full, and the light was super bright.

Without the rain fly, nothing was there to block it. I guess I didn’t mind. In a deserted campsite, miles from anything, it was preferable to being in total darkness.

I love waking up near the water. My dream house—if I am ever lucky enough to have it—would be on the water. Today we will continue east to Sequoyah cabin. When I was initially planning the trip, we were going to be getting there yesterday, but it is closed on Monday, which is why we spent an extra day in Chickasaw. It probably worked out for the best because I doubt Robbers Cave would had been as pleasurable if we had gotten there on a Sunday. The weekend crowd would have soiled the experience.

We stopped at another cafe in the middle of a tiny town. G3 ordered biscuits and gravy. The waitress asked if he wanted white gravy or brown chocolate gravy. I am sure you can guess what he went with. Years ago, when he wasn’t much older than a toddler, he complained one morning that I never let him eat chocolate for breakfast. I posted about it on facebook and David, who my brother was dating at the time, commented that biscuits and chocolate was a common southern breakfast. He even emailed me his mother’s recipe for both buttermilk biscuits and chocolate sauce. When I first made it, G3 was really excited. I still make it on occasion because who doesn’t love chocolate. So I knew biscuits and chocolate were a thing in the south, I just never encountered in a restaurant until now. Of course, I too needed to have that for breakfast. It was a nice change from hot cereal or eggs.

I was really excited about the prospect of learning about Cherokee history at Sequoyah’s cabin. G3 and I got there when they opened and we were the only ones there. It was great because we had a private tour that lasted an hour and a half. G3 was not quite as enthused. I am sure the tour doesn’t last that long on average. I just had so many questions and the tour guide seemed to enjoy telling me stories. At one point she even said to me—I don’t usually give so much information, but you seem to really be interested. Yep, that’s me, the history nerd. Kerry, if you are reading this, you would have loved the visit as much as I did.

Sequoyah is an important historical figure because he created the writings system for the Cherokee language. It isn’t an alphabet like we have. It is a syllabary—each syllable has its own character. There are a few different stories relating why he felt the need to produce a writing system. One states that he was fascinated by the Bible, this idea that stories could be seen in a book. Another states he was intrigued by missionaries teaching children how to write. A third says soldiers at war writing letters home caught his attention. Regardless of his reason, it took him 12 years—ending in 1825–to complete. An incredible accomplishment, especially since he wasn’t a linguist, or educator, or scholar. He was a blacksmith and silversmith by trade.

The first person he taught the writing system to was his young daughter. He figured if she could learn it then adults should have no problem. While he was away traveling, they wrote each other letters. The village was shocked that she could know what her father was doing while he was away. It seemed so outlandish the village accused them both of practicing witchcraft.

They then had to go before the chief to prove they were innocent. They did that by demonstrating the writing system The chief was so enthralled that he insisted Sequoyah teach everyone. By the the time Jackson issued his order of removal, Cherokees had reached a 90 percent literacy rate—higher than Americans at the time. Sadly, the percentage dropped during removal when Cherokee had more pressing matters—survival—to tend to.

Sequoyah was born in Tennessee, but he was part of an earlier wave of Cherokee who had moved out to what is now Oklahoma. Feeling suffocated by white settlers, they moved west hoping to get away from greedy white people. During the War of 1812, Sequoyah joined the cavalry. In 1814, he fought under Andrew Jackson—future enemy of the Cherokee—at the Battle of Horseshoe Bend. The battle resulted in the death of 900 Creek warriors. Sequoyah died in his 80s, but no one knows where his body is. He was on a diplomatic mission to Mexico where he hoped to rekindle ties with the Cherokee who fled the United States. If possible, he hoped to convince them to return to the Cherokee nation. While in Mexico he caught Yellow Fever and died. His traveling companions put his body in a cave intending to return for it at a later date. Unfortunately, when they tried, they couldn’t find it.

The Cherokee did own slaves. It was on the Trail of Tears, recognizing the horrors of being subjugated by another group for reasons of race, that they ended the practice and offered former slaves citizenship in their nation. When the order of removal was first issued, the Cherokee appealed the order all the way up to the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court rules in their favor, declaring removal to be unconstitutional. But Jackson didn’t care. He essentially said, stop me if you dare. Needless to say, no one dared.

As a matrilineal society, women had far more rights and a much greater voice than white women. This was part of the problem in dealing with the American Government. American representatives always wanted to deal with men, have them sign their treaties, but that went against Cherokee culture. Traditionally, villages had a war chief and a peace chief both of whom had to report to/consult with a council of women. It’s important to note that in traditional Cherokee culture gender was not binary. it was much more fluid than Europeans constructed it. When DeSoto came across a Cherokee village that had biological men dressing and “acting” like women he fed the gender benders to the dogs.

In 1905, The Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Seminole, and Muskogee (Creek) held a Constitutional Convention in Muskogee. In an effort to retain some authority over their own people, they drafted a Constitution and appealed for Statehood. They would have called their state Sequoyah, in honor of the man who gave them a written voice. Congress, of course, rejected them.

The Cherokees are still protective of their culture and language. Only 3000 first speakers—men and women for whom Cherokee was their first language—are alive. They had 5000, but COVID killed 2000. These men and women are still active trying to teach the younger generation to ensure the language survives.

What G3 found most fascinating is that he can get the Cherokee alphabet on his iPhone keyboard. I thought he was playing on his phone—but when our guide mentioned that apple and android supported her language, G3 had to check it out for himself.

Our next stop was across the border in Arkansas. Fort Smith was built between 1838 and 1842 in and effort to keep the peace between the Osage, who were native to Indian Territory, and the Cherokee, who pushed—some willing and some by force— onto their land. Jackson is demonized—and rightfully so—for the Indian Removal Act, but he was not the first president to envision it. After acquiring the Louisiana Territory, Jefferson thought it would be a great idea to relocate all the tribes east of the Mississippi to “Indian Territory.” He just lumped them all together, giving no consideration to cultural differences.

During the Civil War, Natives fought on both sides. There are some who argue that Jefferson Davis was a better friend to the Natives than Lincoln. And think about it, the Confederacy was a new nation that didn’t carry the baggage of years of broken treaties. Anyway. after the war, the US didn’t care who sided with whom, they treated all the tribes like crap. No surprise, really. In September 1865, the Fort Smith Delegation met at the Fort. Delegates of 12 native nations met with President Johnson’s representatives. New treaties were issued that further cut native land and further undermined tribal authority. The US Government paid Creeks and Seminoles for their land claims and took 1.8 million acres of land. This land was given to white settlers which eventually led to Oklahoma becoming a state. Then in the 1890s the Dawes Act was forced upon the Natives which resulted in even more loss of land.

Following the Civil War, outlaws moved into Indian Territory. Two hundred deputy marshals were sent in to bring order. One of the most famous outlaws was Belle Starr. Her only conviction was for horse theft. She spent a year at the Detroit Department of Corrections. Her daughter, Pear Starr, was known for opening and operating a bordello near the river. Belle’s son became a marshal and was killed in an attempt to arrest whiskey peddlers.

Again, G3 was less than excited. He wanted to sit and read Salem’s Lot, but I didn’t bring him here so that he could spend the time doing what he can do at home. He did, however, finish the book in the car. He did, however, finish the book in the car. The one moment of excitement came when we were walking through the museum, and in a display of Civi War artifacts, G3 spotted the exact sword he bought last week. Seeing it somehow authenticated it for him and made him happy.

We are camping at Hot Springs National Park. It is the WORST campground we’ve stayed in all summer. We are near the bathroom and people keep walking through our site to get there. (When I booked the site I had a choice of only two sites and something was better than an expensive hotel.) We are near the main road and cars are passing non-stop, plus the street lamps mean there won’t be darkness. Thank god for eye masks and ear plugs

Most of the campers hav RVs, but the guy at the site next to us is in a tent. He’s on a long road trip from California. I guess after two days of G3 making friends, it was my turn. He said hi first and we got to chatting. He offered me a beer and we talked for well over an hour. He is a middle school math and science teacher—older than me—who is tired of testing and ridiculous expectations and can’t wait to retire. Years ago, his father was a scientist at Oak Ridge, Tennessee—known for its role in making the nuclear bomb. He told me that as a kid he and other kids were asked by the scientists to collect lightning bugs so they could be studied. The glow sticks kids play with today are a product of that research.

It is super late. G3 is snoring. I need to try to sleep as well.