This is a poem my grandmother wrote for my parents when they were married in October, 1943, in Sulphur, Oklahoma, Chickasaw Nation Territory.
After she retired from working at Haskell and Intermountain Indian School in Brigham City, Utah, she stayed with us in Walla Walla,,for about six months each year. The other months she would travel around and visit her other two sons and five daughters.
My great-grandfather, John Westley Parker was raised by his Aunt, who was married to the Governor of the Chickasaw, after his parents died on their journey from Tennesse to Oklahoma.
He inherited quite a lot of land and some buildings in Sulphur and was a good businessman so my grandmother inherited quite a bit.
After my grandfather died, leaving her with eight children, the white banker’s stole every penny she had. When I saw Killers of the Flower Moon, these bankers, acted just the character played by Robert De Niro. Although they didn’t kill her they left her penniless with eight children.
When I was in my young days I would go to sleep fantasizing that I had a time machine and would go back in time to see those bankers and deliver some justice. I would also fantasize about travelling back to the 1860’s with modern weapons to arm the warriors of the Oceti Sakowin and imagine the big surprise we would give to the US Military.
I know that sounds crazy, but that was what felt before my spiritual wake-up call in 1967. Although I must say some old feelings emerged after seeing Killers of the Flower 🌺 Moon,
Then I would remember if it were not for those banker’s, my father would not have met my mother at Haskell and I would not be sharing my thoughts and feelings with you!