I showed up at WBAI at 9:30. Erroll (WBAI program director) brought me into the studio, meeting Tiokasin Ghosthorse along the way. I asked Erroll what was going on behind the scenes during that Amy Goodman Democracy Now show from Kansas City last Monday, the day of the Monday surprise from Baghdad. He said they had been having trouble with one of the incoming lines and there were problems with the feed from Kansas City because too many other stations were linking in. He gave up on it for a while and put on music until someone called to say they were “up” again. The rest went well, as I heard.
Erroll seemed glad to see me; it turned out he wanted to continue our argument over whether Pearl Street was east or west of Water Street. This discussion had started on the Saturday of the Clearwater Festival, ten days earlier. I had said, “I have to tell you something, my friend, you must realize that the WBAI office is right next to the site of a slave trade auction block, right at the old end of Wall Street which was at Pearl Street.” He said the auction block was on Water Street, and it ended up being an ongoing argument about which was west of which?
We chatted about other things. We were looking for To-ma from New Zealand, who is now co-host of First Voices with Tiokasin. We were hanging out in the studio listening to Amy Goodman’s show, which is on from 9 to 10. At the end of her show, Amy said, “Stay tuned for First Voices, Indigenous Radio, with Tiokasin Ghost Horse.” Amy was not in the room, she was broadcasting from a converted fire house in China Town, as Tiokasin had explained last week. Then there was a music interlude, some of which was apparently by To-ma, but where was To-ma?
I shuffled papers. Erroll asked Mr. G. if he wanted him to take over. G said no. He could handle it. Erroll appeals to a higher court and pulls up Map Quest on the computer screen in the studio. He wants to show me that north of Wall Street, Pearl was east of Water Street.
I say, “Try scrolling south, oh, and also west. Pearl is west of Water Street below Wall!” (It turns out we were both right. The parallel streets cross at about Wall Street, but Pearl was an Indian Trail that traced the shoreline, at least as far as St. James. Erroll wanted to know details.)
The technician, Mr. G. started doing the countdown.
“We’re on in TEN seconds!”
“Map Quest can’t be wrong…” My soul brother Erroll said, smiling and laughing with me in our mock knockdown argument, excited to have a worthy opponent in the New York history trivia department.
“Nine..”
“Where’s To-ma?”
”Eight, seven…”
”Where are the Mauri?”
“Six…”
“Scroll down, Erroll! Hit the scroll down button! And then scroll west. Pearl Street is East, see?”
“Five four….”Tiokasin nudges Erroll off the computer, and pulls up his script for the opening news segment of the show.
”WHERE ARE THE MAURI?”
Erroll jumps up and hits a button that the new employee Mr. G. didn’t know about yet. It was our one link to the voice of Amy Goodman (the sweet butt-kicking Goddess of the Left) however, it allowed a humming noise to go onto the air waves unless it was off.
“Three….”
”Tiokasin, (I said) Remember to ask me about 1776, the Fourth of July, Native Americans….”
Yesterday, Tiokasin had said that I could tell him what questions to ask in advance and he’d remember. I suddenly realized I had a lot to say about that question, and its always good radio to tie discussion in with current news events. He’d probably not heard me, but would I remember to bring this up later? Without the Mauri guy, we might have to fill more time. I had plenty to say about 1776. I should have thought of it sooner.
Just then, one tall long haired, tawny Mauri musician, To-ma, strolls into the studio with his guitar gig bag strapped to his back. He says, “’ay Maytes!” The door snaps shut behind him. He weaves between the swivel chairs with a Native’s knowledge of the terrain, and takes his chair without a sound.
Two..”
“One, and we are ON THE AIR!!” Everyone hit a button of some kind in perfect synchronicity. The chaos in the room suddenly ceases and the room falls silent.
With a voice of perfect calm that comes from the heart of the northern prairie, Tiokasin Ghost Horse begins his broadcast, “Welcome to First Voices Indigenous Radio.” His words are slow and measured like the passage of a gliding eagle across the western sky. Then he begins reading news off the computer screen, having dispensed with Map Quest.once and for all. Everything goes perfectly. He reads and discusses ten minutes of news, a heartbreaking story about the Western Shoshone of Nevada, forced to sell their land for pennies so that mining corporations can maw for gold. Then he turns to me and says, “Evan, what about the fourth of July? Tell us about Algonquins in 1776.”
(Thought balloon) “Wow, you remembered! Excellent! Way to go Tiokasin! That was some awesome broadcasting skill!”
We did twenty hot minutes of live three-way discussion on Native Americans in the Revolution, things few people know. There was a break and we went on to discuss Native American prophecy, the Seven Fires Prophecy in particular, and I was prepared, with my copy of Paths of Light, Paths of Darkness (published by Resonance Communications) leading into a discussion of space weapons, and then the electronic “crowd control” weapons, and the upcoming Republican convention. I said,” They haven’t issued any permits yet!” Tiokasin said, “They issued them yesterday! What advice do you have for people who are planning to exercise their democractic options?”
I said, “I don’t want to see people hurt. Those new electronic “crowd control” weapons are painful. Best to wear body armor. Reynolds’ wrap is good; regular old tin foil. Especially around the brain, which is the stronghold. Use several layers of tin foil, perhaps under your hat. You’ll avoid migraines.”
The complete transcription of the one hour show will soon be available at this site. See: First Voices Indigenous Radio, with Evan Pritchard: Prophecy, Revolution, and the New Weapons.
When the show was done, a comedy team came in. I listened to one of their skits. “Mr. Cheney, Mr. Powell of the FCC is in the lobby to see you.” “What does he have to say that is so important as to take up the time of the VP of the United States?. Tell him to go F himself…” It was crude, but in the light of recent revelations that Dick Cheney talks like this on the floor of the House, I was not surprised.
I kept seeing this black woman KayDee in the hall, and we kept smiling at each other. I felt like I knew her. It turns out we may have met in DC at Pacifica Radio some years ago. I didn’t know what to say. I talked to the folk music man. I sand him my version of Try To Remember, and he sang me two other versions. He liked my version.
Tiokasin, To-ma and I talked more about prophecy. I told the story of Albert Lightning, the 90 year old Cree prophet of the Seven Fires. He said that the time of the prophecies was coming when the Native People would rise up again, and come together, and that he would live to see it. He was referring to the dawning of the eighth fire. I was with my three year old son in a park, in the woods in Montreal. He ran over and took a blue ball away from another three year old, a Native American boy. The boy’s uncle appeared, a seven foot tall red-skinned Native guy, with black braids that reached almost to the ground. I took the ball from my son, and gave it to him. I apologized and offered him a copy of the book I’d just written on Micmac language, and I mentioned there was as reference to Albert Lightning. The man said, “I knew him!”
I continued the story, with the full attention of the two men, both of whom were carriers of prophecy. I said, “You make it sound like he died. You should say ‘I know him.”
He said, “He has died.” I said, “He can’t be dead. I just heard from him three days ago and he was alive.”
“I just buried him!” he said, sadly. “I was his assistant!”
I said, “You can’t have. He lives in Alberta, and we are three days from Alberta.”
He answered, “I just got out of the car. Actually I’m on my way east. I just stopped to have dinner with my nephew and his family.
I said, “I give you this book as a gift. You are his messenger. His spirit wanted you to tell me of his death. He said he would live to see the fulfillment of the prophecy, so his death is a sign that we are in the time of the prophecies.” That was how I told the story.
I turned to Toma and his eyes were misty. He said, “People make too much of the romantic side of prophecy, but they are very practical. They show us what we should do.” I agreed. Both sides of prophecy appeal to me.
We talked about music, and it turns out Toma plays clarinet as well as guitar. I gave him a copy of my classical guitar CD Contemplations as a present. He was surprised and pleased. As a symphonic player he knew most of the pieces, which are orchestral. Kay Dee walked by smiling at me.
Tiokasin was concerned that the advice about the tin foil might have come off a little flakey, but I said that was the most practical part of the show, that I was there to prevent people from being injured. I said, “You told me the other day that during some unrest in Hopi country, you and a bunch of protestors covered yourself in tin foil in order to not be detected by infra-red night scopes.”
He chimed in, “Yes, and it worked great.”
I said, “This is the same exact thing.”
”I guess I should have mentioned that,” he answered, always looking to improve his program.
I asked Tiokasin if he had any celebrity gossip about himself to share with my peaceblog. He said NO! Tiokasin is not the frivolous type, even for a good cause. But the folk guy suggested that Tiokasin secretly loves the song “This Land Is Your Land.” He just criticizes it on the air to mask his feelings.”
That set off Tiokasin. “I HATE that song! It should go, ‘This land is my land, it isn’t your land!” He didn’t think it was very funny, apparently. There was a phone call for Tiokasin, He tripped on the wire and the phone went flying, and then didn’t work quite right. It kept ringing, even when he lifted the receiver. We made jokes that this was a non-verbal protest, a Luddite rebellion against high tech communication. He didn’t hear us. He was intently trying to fix it to get the call. Tiokasin is actually very skilled with technology, but he is, as the Algonquin say, “Indian from the ground up.”
At about 40 minutes after the hour, I walked outside, and walked to the intersection of Water Street and Wall Street, where Pearl crosses Water. There standing in the sun was KayDee. I shook her hand yet again. Although she is dark-skinned, as dark as Whoopi Goldberg, I asked if she was Native American. I had a strong feeling about it, but it was not in her features. It was in her power. She said, “Yes, I am. That’s what I’ve always been told. Our people were from Yonkers!”
I said, “So you are Wappingers!”
She said, “Yes, but I haven’t chosen to politicize that side of my heritage.”
I mentioned that Langston Hughes was Algonquin too, but made the same choice.
She said that her decision was partly because she didn’t know enough about it. She said it wasn’t a literary decision as with Mr. Hughes. I told her that the Wappingers were just coming together again, with a planned newsletter and language book, and I was working on both as cultural historian of the tribe. I invited her to join our cause.
I walked west to Broadway and there on the sidewalks of Broadway met a psychic I was supposed to meet to talk about spiritual and peacemaking issues. We looked down into the hole where they are building the new World Trade Center and museums, and a German film crew came by, interviewing people about the new towers, and the psychic told them to interview me. They did. Having just done an hour with Tiokasin, I was very outspoken and complained that the Native American view was being shut out, and that the people creating the Freedom Center were supposed to call me, or someone from the Shinnecock and Munsee, but did not. There was lots of Native history here but none of it will be honored, its all only about 9-11. The German said, “You mean you don’t care about the 3000 heroes who died here?” I said, “We all care! We all love New York; we all had friends who died in those towers. Of course we felt terrible, and I’m all for those people being honored, but I don’t want this to be just another piece of propaganda. There’s a lot of history here!” They cut me off. My friend said they’d probably erase my whole interview, and thought I should follow up on it. I said “There’s so many things going on right now, I can’t start chasing all these things down, I’m just connecting and going with the flow of events.” We had lunch in Riverside Park. My psychic friend did not want to be mentioned in the blog by name. She showed me the whimsical brass sculptures, copies of the ones in the subways. They are quite remarkable as they are quirky, very enjoyable. I got on a train and made it to Charlie Moms to meet Allyson. We had drinks at a nearby café and talked for over two hours. She wants spiritual instruction, and though she is not related to Native people, she has worked with shamanic elders before, and really seemed to “see” what I was doing in the Four Paths workshops from the inside out. She saw how I was working the energy, not that it was secret. She said she wanted to learn the kind of things you can’t learn from a book. She is working on a masters degree in theater. I shared freely. She said she could feel my excitement whenever I talked about connectivity. I told her it was better than sex or money, and she asked if there were techniques or steps for learning connectivity. I told her of my experiments with what I call Velikofsky Ball, two players create a psychic link by both throwing a ball simultaneously, the balls collide half way and bounce back into the glove of the person who threw it. I said it could not be accomplished by logic, and told her how Charlie Small Buck and I were really good at it, and developed the link. Then there was a time when I was always traveling and he didn’t have a phone, and yet we continued to meet frequently, at random places around a 250 square mile urban area; in the woods, in parks, in Mc Donalds, in libraries, on the street…and had important meetings, practically while in motion. People witnessed this, and said, “How did you plan THAT…..???”
Then, she asked me again how she could learn connectivity and those things that you can’t learn in school. As we stood together on a busy sidewalk in Manhattan, I pulled the four Lenape Gaming Sticks from my pocket, two striped and two solid. I mixed them in my hands, and had her guess where the striped ones were. Which hand has the M&Ms? The first time, she got the right message in words, in her mind, but misunderstood it. Next time she got it right. The next time I said, “This time I’ll make it easy.” She realized this was a different kind of test. She had to intuit not only the sticks, but what I meant by this vague statement. She got it right AGAIN! The two striped sticks were together, and she guessed correctly the right hand. She had to trust her intuition, and not second guess herself. She did great. That was it, and as I was very tired, she and I went our separate ways. I was so tired I slept for five hours in the cabin in the city. When I woke up I felt I should call Lynn (not my sister, but Staten Island Lynn the Vet) I had had an inner experience with her the night after the last workshop, and had to call her to verify some things. There was a shoe in the dream, she said she had a shoe like that. Anyway, it was good I called because she was leaving the next morning for Alabama. As things had always been too hectic during the workshop time, it turned out to be our first real conversation. She may be Micmac, but not sure. She travels around the island administering to sick pets, cool job.
I went back to sleep after watching a History channel show on how the US has often had the impulse to take control of western Canada or to annex it. They made it sound like it was still a good idea. I think they really expected to have Steve Harper win the election, as this show would have fit that event. Michael Moore’s movie ruined those plans too. They interviewed a man named Robert Bothwell, a historian who said that American expansion has always been by peaceful settlement, followed by laws and government protection. I remember thinking, “I wish Tiokasin could hear this man say that!!! His great grandfather was Crazy Horse!” The next morning on BAI someone said that Iraqi Freedom was the first time the Cavalry came first, then the settlers. He also said that for most of the time we Americans were really happy being British subjects, citing the use of a few British place names as proof of this! “nuff said!” Finally, at about 3 AM, I went to sleep.