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George C. Mitchell
1922-2004
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George Mitchell was not an
Erwin, nor was he descended from an Erwin, but he was a member of our
extended family. George was a Native American, and was born in a
one-room log cabin in northeastern Arizona on the Navajo Indian
Reservation near Canyon de Chelly. George was a unique individual, but
to fully appreciate his life one must know a little about the trials of
the Navajo prior to his birth.
While
it is not practical here to outline the origins or early history of the
Navajo people, a few insights and facts
concerning them will be
helpful in knowing and
understanding George.
Perhaps the
Long Walk, and the
events leading up to it, is a good place to start.
After the Revolutionary War
American pioneers pushed westward towards the Pacific Ocean. The
Louisiana Purchase in 1803 opened up vast areas to settlement; the
Treaty of Ghent ended the War of 1812 with Great Britain, but it also
eventually gave us the Oregon Territory. Spain ceded Florida to the
United States in 1819; Texas was brought into the Union in 1845;
California became the thirty-first state in 1850, and the Gadsden
Purchase was culminated in 1853. These were the major events that shaped
the current boundaries of our nation. Most of us feel a sense of
patriotic pride when we think about our country’s growth and expansion
in these broad terms.
What we may not think about,
however, are the hundreds of Indian tribes, large and small, that lived
there prior to our arrival. While the Spanish, French and British had
penetrated these various areas as explorers, traders and trappers, they
did not, for the most part, stay as permanent settlers. The Americans,
on the other hand, were pioneers, seeking land for home sites and farms,
and they planned to stay. Our nation was only a few decades old, but the
native peoples, and their ancestors, had occupied the mountains and
prairies for thousands of years, and were not inclined to welcome the
newcomers with open arms. They could not, however, hold back the winds
of change.
By 1860 the tribes living in
the original thirteen colonies had been defeated or eliminated; several
tribes in the southeast had been relocated to the Oklahoma Indian
Territory via the
Trail of
Tears, and the Texas
Rangers had largely annihilated the tribes within the borders of their
new state. An ongoing campaign by the U.S. Army in the West had
decimated the plains Indians, such as the Apache and Comanche, and had
set up reservations to corral the rest. Some pueblo dwellers in remote
areas, such as the Hopi, managed to escape the major attention of the
military, but the Navajo, who were mainly herders, and tended to roam
over vast areas, did not. While the Navajo were not normally a warring
tribe, as were the Apache and Comanche, they could be provoked, and it
was inevitable that there would be confrontations.
In the early 1860s the Civil
War was being fought in earnest east of the Mississippi River, and large
numbers of the frontier troops had been transferred east to bolster the
Union armies. Several of the more militant tribes were quick to take
advantage of the situation. Small bands raided unprotected white farms
and small settlements. Brig. Gen. James H. Carleton was sent to the
frontier with orders to stop the raids by any means he deemed necessary,
and he went about it with a vengeance. Although the Navajo were not
Carleton’s primary target, they felt his wrath as well, and by the
beginning of 1863 they were basically a defeated people.
General Carleton had
apparently received poor intelligence, for he believed—according to
dispatches sent to Washington—that the Navajo were planning a joint
offensive with the Mescalero Apaches against his weakened frontier
forts. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Nevertheless, in
the spring of 1863, after having defeated the Mescaleros, he turned his
forces toward the Navajo. On June 15, 1863 General Carleton, with
Colonel Kit Carson and one thousand troops, left Santa Fe and marched
towards Navajo country. Word was sent that they must surrender by July
20, or, in Carleton’s words, “Every Navajo that is seen will be
considered as hostile and treated accordingly.” In the meantime the
Navajo people were preparing for the worst, not by fighting, but by
fleeing to the mountains and desert canyons. In late July Carson moved
up to Fort Defiance. From there patrols of troops were sent into the
field.
Most of the Navajos, however,
had disappeared, deserting their fields and even some of their
livestock. Some sought safety along the San Juan River and in the wild
area north of Monument Valley, but most of the tribe fled west, beyond
the Hopi villages. Some went as far as the Grand Canyon and to the area
around Navajo Mountain. Nevertheless, Carleton directed Carson to
“scorch the earth of the Navajo,” feeling that the Indians could be
starved into submission. The order was given to “round
up all of the Navajo
livestock, burn all of their fields, and destroy all of their food
caches.” After the winter snows fell it was an easy task to round up the
cold and starving Navajos. They surrendered in small groups at first,
and then by the hundreds.
On March 4, 1864 a group of
over twenty-four hundred men, women and children left Fort Defiance on
the
Long Walk to Fort
Sumner and the Bosque Redondo The spirit of the Navajo people had been
broken. The march can easily be compared to the Bataan Death March of
WW2. The old ones who fell behind were left to die; men who could not
keep up, and who appeared to be able-bodied, were shot by the military
escort. When the group struggled into Fort Sumner in New Mexico one
hundred and ninety-seven had been left behind on the trail, either dead
or dying. Another group of eight hundred left Fort Defiance on March 20,
and an additional one hundred and forty-six were added along the way. By
the time this group reached Bosque Redondo on May 11, one hundred and
ten had perished.
The reservation at Bosque
Redondo near the Pecos River in eastern New Mexico was little more than
a concentration camp. The Navajo people were starved and abused, and
when some managed to slip away they were hunted down and killed like
rabid animals. This went on for over two years, but the horrors of the
camp soon got the attention of influential people in Washington. On
September 19, 1866, Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton relieved General
Carleton of his command, and transferred him to an obscure post in
Louisiana. In the meantime the
Navajo Nation had been
decimated to a population of
less than 8000 thousand
souls.
The misery of the Navajo did
not immediately end, however. It was not until June 1, 1868 that a
treaty was signed by twenty-nine Navajo headmen and several
representatives of the United States. Although the document gave them a
three and one half million acre reservation, it was only about ten
percent of the territory they once roamed. Nevertheless, they were
finally going home. By actual count 7304 men, women and children made
the trek back to their historical home territory. Today their
reservation encompasses 26,000 square miles, and includes a large part
of Arizona, as well as parts of New
Mexico and Utah.
The population now
exceeds 210,000, and about
sixty
percent of Navajos are
twenty-four
years old or younger.
Let’s now fast forward a bit.
In 1887 Congress passed the Compulsory Indian Education Law. In the
beginning the actual schooling was to be handled by various secular
groups. The Presbyterians were “awarded” the Navajo. Boarding schools
were established at various points on the reservations, and agents
scoured the countryside for students to fill them. Children were
forcibly removed from their families, often at gunpoint. It is said that
agents at times found children herding or working in fields and took
them away in their buckboards, not knowing, or caring, who their parents
were. At the boarding schools the children were often beaten,
handcuffed, bound in leg irons, or starved for days for trying to
escape. Long story short, the program was a dismal failure.
It was not until 1917 that
Congress enacted a statute that was designed to ensure that Indian
children got a decent education, one intended to be comparable to that
in available in white public schools. However, due to the fact that most
Navajo families preferred to live separately from others, often in
out-of-the-way places, and the fact that school buses were not yet in
general use, the boarding school concept continued, albeit with more
concern for the parents.
Charlie Mitchell, George’s
father, experienced the beginning of the Indian school program. He was
about eight when taken from his home by force. He was sent to the
boarding school at Chinle, which was enclosed by a high fence. His
traditional long hair was cut, and he was forced to wear “white man’s”
clothing. He was also given a white man’s name. No one seems to know how
it was selected, but it stuck with him throughout his life, and he
passed it along to his children and grandchildren. Although his limited
education was force-fed, it was sufficient to allow him to be a member
of the Navajo Nation Police Force for many years, and he apparently did
not resist when it was time for his children to attend the later
boarding schools.
George’s father, as a member
of the Navajo Tribal Police, was often away from the his family for days
at a time. Thus it fell upon the family to care for the chickens, sheep
and other livestock that augmented the family food supply. The family
home site, located near Lukachukai, about thirty miles northwest of
Canyon de Chelly, was, and is, located in a somewhat barren area. There
was little there for the family’s animals to graze on. About a mile
away, however, there is an unnamed canyon that is frequently wet from
rains and flashfloods, providing precious moisture for grass and willows
along the banks of the wash. It was there that George and his brothers
took the family’s horses and herds of goats and sheep to graze. It is
thought that it was during these periods of solitude, while tending the
animals, that George became determined to seek his fortune in the white
man’s world.
George C. Mitchell was nineteen,
and just out of high school when WW2 started. He
enlisted in
the United States Navy, and after basic
training was assigned sea duty, spending most of his four-year/duration
enlistment at sea. He was part of the original crew of the aircraft
carrier USS Bonhomne Richard, commissioned November 26, 1944.
George was honorably
discharged in late 1945, and soon after, using his G.I. Bill benefits,
enrolled in Northern Arizona University at Flagstaff as an Education
major. He was a dedicated student, and graduated from NAU in 1950, eager
to make his mark in the world.
In 1956 George was teaching
at the Chilocco Indian School in Chilocco, Oklahoma. Chilocco is almost
on the state line between Oklahoma and Kansas, and is less than ten
miles from Arkansas City, Kansas. It so happened that Arkansas City was
where Bobbi Jo Erwin, daughter of Jesse Carroll Erwin and Mary Protzman
Erwin, was a student at the local high school.
How George and Bobbi Jo met,
and the details of the courtship, is not known, but they were married in
Arkansas City on December 9, 1956. George was thirty-four (their
marriage certificate says twenty-six) and Bobbi Jo was seventeen.
Although Bobbi Jo’s mother signed a form consenting to the marriage,
there was, as the saying goes, “Hell to pay” when Bobbi’s father learned
of it when he returned home from a construction job.
Nevertheless, Bobbi Jo and
George set up housekeeping in Chilocco, and George continued to teach
there. Their first child, a daughter they named Sherry Lane, was born in
May 1958 in the Arkansas City Hospital. During the summer of 1966 the
family moved to Hanford, California. George taught in the local schools
there until 1972. In the interim Auska, a son, was born in 1967; Sherry
graduated from the eight grade at Kit Carson Elementary School in 1972,
and Bobbi Jo earned a BA Degree at Fresno Pacific College.
The family then returned to
Arizona, and to the Navajo Reservation. George took a job at Round Rock
School, in Round Rock, which is only seven miles from where he was born.
His parents had passed on by this time, and the family took over the
reservation home site lease that had been in the family for several
generations. Bobbi Jo, who had not graduated from high school, but who
had recently earned a BA, was anxious to continue her education.
Strongly encouraged and supported by her husband, she enrolled at
Northern Arizona University at Flagstaff, George’s alma mater. There she
earned an MA, as well as an Ed.D degree.
George Mitchell spent the
rest of his professional career working in the Round Rock School
District. He first taught elementary classes at Round Rock, but was soon
elevated to principal, and ended his career as the school district
superintendent.
Although George had spent
many years away from the Navajo Nation, first as a student, then service
in the Navy during WW2, followed by time spent earning a college degree,
and finally teaching jobs in Oklahoma and California, he was,
nonetheless, very proud of his Navajo heritage. After he returned to the
area of his birth and ancestors he became very involved in Navajo
affairs. He had spent years in the “white man’s world,” and he was
anxious to learn more about his ancestors and his culture.
George retired in the early
1990s, but he remained active. He became involved in several cultural
projects, often directing them. He wrote poetry, as well as several
literary pieces, all with
The
People as the subject.
At the time of his death he was writing a history-based novel about the
Navajo in the eighteenth-century, and the trials they endured with the
Spanish invaders. It remains unfinished. He also became active in the
Native American Church. Although the family had attended both Protestant
and Catholic churches during the time spent in Oklahoma and California,
George felt that the Native American Church better served his spiritual
needs.
George C. Mitchell passed
away January 3, 2004; he was eighty-two. Bobbi Jo, retired less than two
years, followed him in May 2005. Both of their lives were celebrated in a Native
American Church memorial service on June 11, 2005.
George Mitchell was as a very
unique individual, and while he was one
of the Diné,
"The
People," he was
a member of the Erwin extended family as well. He was proud of his
heritage, but left the land of his ancestors to quench his thirst for
worldly knowledge. His vision and drive allowed him to accomplish
something that few of his people did in his generation, and that was to
graduate from a major university. He also dedicated his life to working
with children; what better legacy could one have. It was my privilege,
as well as an honor, to have known him.
Don Erwin
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The canyon where George and his brothers cared for the family's animals |
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With a buddy in San Diego |
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George as a college student at NAU in Flagstaff after WW2 |
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George Mitchell's mother at her loom |
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In later years in traditional ceremonial dress |
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The Mitchell family ceremonial hogan (ho-gon) |
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