By: Paul S. Cilwa Viewed: 11/18/2019
Page Views: 144
My mother-in-law's recollections of earlier days.

I didn't grow up like most Native American. It was more like the Waltons. Our families followed more to the French. We are French, Ojibwa, Cree, Micmac and Swedish from my dad's side. I even know French card games used in gambling in Canada.

To start I would have to go to back to my roots. I can do that, but that starts with my family's rebellion, in which my great grandfather was hung in Canada by the Canadian military for treason, just for aiding the Ojibwa in the struggle for their rights. That will explain why we were called metifs.

In any case, my son-in-law has provided this space for me to tell some of the stories I have of things that happened to me growing up, and as a young wife to my Navajo husband and mother to our children.

Lady Slippers

By: Cecelia Jim Posted: 9/15/2019
Page Views: 139
The last time they went camping.

One day my older brother, Clarence, then age 16, decided to take my younger brother Alfred, age 5, duck hunting. When Alfred and Clarence were ready to leave, my older sister Mary Anne, age 12, got Alfred by himself and told him he better get some Lady Slipper flowers for her—or else! I overheard her, so I said, "I want some, too!"

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The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

By: Cecelia Jim Posted: 9/15/2019
Page Views: 144
The last time they went camping.

My daughter, Rene, came in from Germany and was camping in California when we decided to meet in Idaho. From there we stopped to visit my brother. From there we left for Montana. We had to find a place to rest, so Rene found a campground away from the highway in the mountains. It was a hunters' camp. The road to the camp was very narrow. As we were driving we passed a white truck parked beside the road, and next to the stood a man in bib overalls staring at us. He looked scary…and, just then, over the radio the music for Texas Chainsaw Massacre began to play.

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