While searching for American Indian Warrior Women I came across this page and it has a lot of great links about the Cherokee Women. This page has the beautiful story of the "The Legend of the Cherokee Rose". I invite you to click on the link below and read this legend.
I am going to expand my posts to include American Indian Women, not just Warrior Women. As I thought about it I realized that probably all the Women had to be warriors at one point or the other.
Brave women everywhere grab at my heart and I hope you will enjoy these links.
It will be people like Joyce Dugan who will restore and uplift the modern American Indian. Walks In Spirit and I truly believe that the Ancestors will and have returned. The steady patience and insight that people like Joyce have is the real key to this long awaited day.We know it is this kind of person that Great Spirit uses to bring about change, and change we must. Survival of all people depends on this. We can not exist one with out the other. I am proud to add Joyce Dugan to this page and I commend her in her wonderful efforts!
"Joyce Dugan, principal chief of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, sits at the edge of Kituhwa, a sacred burial site and heart of land said to have been the ancient "mother town" of the Cherokees."
Please click on the following link to read about this inspirational woman!
How could I leave out Walks In Spirit's own family when talking about awesome American Indian women? LOL!
Aunt Alice has been a driving force in his life, protector, comforter, and a spiritual leader. Those of you who know us personally know how often he has to get off line to answer her phone calls! Besides her awesome cooking abilities, Aunt Alice is known for her ability to cut to the point, stand up for the down trodden, hold up the ideals of family and tradition. Her faith in God not withstanding, Aunt Alice has the drive and determination to over come any obstacle. Yes, in her time she has packed a gun, a Bible and the grit to stand nose to nose with anyone! No one appreciates what this woman has done for this beautiful Comanche man more than I do and to Aunt Alice I say THANK YOU!
Now about his sisters. Where do I begin? LOL! Joanie of course! Joanie and I have come nose to nose before ourselves. But that does not stop me from giving her kudos ! If I had to pick a warrior woman to stand by my side Joanie would be my first pick. (Better at my side than on the opposite side!) Joanie is a gifted psychic and healer, but don't call it that because that is new age hooey.This gal once chewed a bullet out of her own hand, I kid you not. Beautiful and confident Joanie is no body's fool. She loves her brother with a fierceness that would cause a grizzly to back off. Her singing has made men stop dead in their tracks and so has her beauty!
Debbie, ah sweet Debbie. She is tender and quiet, just as strong as the rest in a less flashy way. Walks In Spirit says "she is quiet, but you had rather cross Joanie on Joanie's worst day, than to cross Deb when Deb is angry. " (LOL, thank goodness I have never seen that day!) Also an accomplished singer and a real beauty. Deb is the rock Joanie and Walks In Spirit turn to when they need that steady hand. Deb is as psychic as the others, but you would probably never know it because she is so quiet. Steadfast patience is the word that comes to mind when I think of her. Thank you Debbie for being there for me when Walks In Spirit was so wounded. I will never forget that.
Three truly beautiful Comanche women, whom I thank God for and all they have done for my man!
Post by WalksInSpirit on Aug 19, 2005 23:57:39 GMT -5
"My Grandmothers: Comanche Warrior Women"
This thread would not be complete without the stories of my Comanche Grandmothers being told. So, I will tell their stories now.
I never knew my Dad's biological Mother - my biological paternal Grandmother. Her name was Rocks. I have often been told that she was quiet, gentle, kept to herself, was soft-spoken, had a deep love for children, animals, and all nature. I have also been told that my Dad and I took after her a great deal, as far as our looks and our personalities go. She passed when my Dad was only seven years old. Much about her passing remains a mystery to this day. The family never spoke of the details surrounding her death. But she left an amazing legacy behind her. My Dad was seven years old when she passed, and up until his passing at age sixty-three, he would cry like a baby at the mere mention of her name. I wish I could have known her in this lifetime. She was a remarkable lady.
When my biological paternal Grandmother passed, her sister Vallie (my Dad's Aunt, biologically) and her husband adopted my Dad and raised him. Many people don't understand why I, a fullblood Comanche, have a "white" last name. Well, this is why. My Grandfather Carter ("Papie") was a white man who loved the Comanche People, and adopted our ways. So, the only paternal Grandmother I ever knew was "Mamie." Mamie was a real character! Imagine "Granny Clampett" from "The Beverly Hillbillies" as having very dark skin, and a mouth that would make a sailor blush with shame. That was Mamie. She even had "remedies" that she concocted for every ailment you could have! And her "remedies" always worked, too! My Great-Grandmother had been a Holy Woman/Healer/Midwife, and she taught Mamie how to make some of the "remedies." The rest of them, Mamie invented on her own. She had a very old tomahawk that she said had belonged to her father. She would sharpen it herself with an old whet rock. That tomahawk had an edge on it that would split a hair! she kept it sticking under her mattress, with the handle sticking out, so she could pull it out at a moment's notice. Mamie was veryTraditional, and did not celebrate Christmas. Besides that, she was extremely difficult to buy for. She didn't like much of anything that was store-bought. Because of this, everyone always gave Mamie boxes of candy for Christmas. She and Papie had an old farmhouse, and they used three rooms of it. They would close off the rest of the house in the winter, so they could heat it better. Mamie kept her boxes of candy in the closed off part of the house. I remember sitting in bed with Mamie (their bed was in the living room, again, so they could be efficient with the heating, and so they could see the tv at night) when I was a kid, and she and I eating that chocolate candy, and watching tv. Mamie dipped snuff, too. She kept a tin of Brutton's Sweet Snuff in her apron pocket all the time. When I was just little bitty, I'd go up to her and hold my bottom lip out, and say "Fill 'er up, Mamie!" And she would reach into her apron pocket and get the snuff and fill my lip full of snuff. Then, she'd get her a dip of it, too. And we would sit on the porch and see who could spit the farthest! I loved Mamie. She kept the Old Ways, and passed them along down to me. I am forever in her debt for that. I was a junior in high school, and was almost seventeen years old when my Mamie passed. That broke my heart.
My maternal Grandmother was Mrs. Bessie Sixkiller. But, I simply called her "Mama." I lived with Mama for a good bit of my childhood. Mama and I were buddies to the end. We shared (and still share) a very strong bond. Mama was a very tall lady, about 5'8" tall, and had a large frame. She had long gray hair that she kept rolled up in a tight little bun on the back of her head. Mama was not what you would call a "total" Traditional. She did believe in the Old Ways, but she was also a devout Methodist. We went to the Methodist Church every Sunday. Mama liked to have a garden and can her vegetables, we would pick grapes from the grapevine in her backyard and pick the crab apples from the little crab apple trees and make grape and crab apple jelly. Mama would hold quilting parties and all of her friends from the community would come over, and they would make quilts. Mama packed heat, too! If you ever came to Mama's house at night, you had better start yelling "Mama! It's me! It's me!" before you got to the porch. Because Mama would shoot through the door! She wore an apron all the time, and in the apron pocket, she carried a little snub-nosed .38 pistol. One night, she did shoot through the door and she hit a would-be intruder. We never knew who it was, nor where they went, but we could hear them hobbling, and of course, we saw the blood on the porch! Uncle Fred had to come the next day with Mama's new door and hang it. She could turn a rabbit a flip from over 500 yards away with that little pistol, too! She was quite a shot! Woe be to any rabbit who got in her cabbage patch! Mama was a wellspring of wisdom. She was extremely intuitive. She was one of the sweetest souls I have ever had the pleasure of encountering. It's been twenty-six years since she passed, and I still miss her real bad. She was there for me at a time in my life when I had no one. She and I shared a very special bond, and I thank The Creator that He has allowed us to continue sharing that bond. She still comes back from time to time to check on me and help me with things.
So, these are my Grandmothers. My special Comanche Warrior Women, who have touched my life in very special ways that have made me who I am today. And I thank them all for the love and the encouragement and the strength that they gave me. Far too many times, the gift of Mothers and especially Grandmothers (basically, the feminine) is overlooked. I would not be the man I am today, had it not been for the influences of these Great, Strong Comanche Warrior Women.