Ah… done with the little detour about the Royce’s journey to Weaverville and the Relief Parties formed to help the emigrants get to California alive,
so now I’ll continue the thread on the reservations.
I used to wonder if I had a right to tell these stories. I’m about as pale as you get and don’t have a single Cherokee Princess anywhere on the family tree. How, I wondered, could I relate?
Then I realized that these aren’t “Native American” stories. These are stories about PEOPLE, who happened to be indigenous to this area. And stories about people, we can all relate to. I don’t know how many people have been evicted from there homes, but even those likely had more than half a day’s notice. The survivors of the Indian Island Massacre were told to be packed by sundown and could only take with them what they could carry. They were then forced to walk to the Klamath Reservation, over sixty miles away.
Look at your spouse, your children. Could they walk to Garberville (if you live in NorHum), Eureka (if you live in SoHum), or any other sixty miles carrying everything they could ever need? (Yeah, that’s what I thought when I looked at my kids).
Posted by Lynette M 
