molly.com
Friday 25 May 2007
Broken Arrow
You never know who is going to be your seatmate on an airplane. Most times it’s fine, sometimes it’s not, sometimes it’s exceptional.
Tonight I got on an airplane from San Francisco non-stop to Tucson. My travel mate was truly exceptional.
A full-blooded Yaqui Indian, 59 years of age, Broken Arrow served in the Vietnam war as a U.S. Marine at a very young age, in 1968.
He has 28 grandchildren, and tells me his name, Broken Arrow, is earned sincerely. He says he is a warrior who fought and then decided to ‘break the arrow.’
By choice, he decided to end fighting.
My seatmate wears his hair long, he is proud of his Yaqui Nation (Pascua Pueblo), and he tells me I am stronger than I know.
He makes me feel very good, as a daughter. He gives me a pendant made of nickel, petrified wood and silver. He puts it around my neck.
I ask if I can photograph Broken Arrow and his gift to me. He tells me no. He would prefer I didn’t, but that I could write the story and give his name and tribe.
So I have.
Filed under: society, travel
Posted by: Molly | 22:42 | Comments (30)
Wow, what a story! Can we see the pendant please?
WoW! That is just absolutely amazing. Shame about the photograph but I fully understand his position. The stories of people like this really do need to be recorded for posterity.
- Neil.
A A Few More.
Lovely story.
(I always get the nutter).
Really cool story, almost surreal even.
Wonderously fantastic story.
Molly, that is so amazing.
Wow – what a beautiful experience! He sounds like a wonderful person.
I know that many older civilisations/tribes/cultures believe that photography captures the soul of the subject and so refuse to be photographed..
There are interesting people all around – we just have to be open to them.
A conversation to treasure is a gift for a lifetime.
Carolyn Ann
PS I always get the pedant, or the drunk. (Fortunately, I rarely get both in one person).
Very nice!!!
How come I always get the seat next to the crying baby…. Oh wait.. that’s because it’s my son. Never mind.
Good to know.
That’s a wonderful experience.
Consider carefully the request for a photo of the necklace. The old ones believed that a camera “stole your soul”, and robbed you of life-force. The same was true of powerful talismans. Would it be offensive to your acquaintance to photograph the talisman he gave you?
Not that I wouldn’t love to see it, I just think you should consider carefully.
I was thinking from the title that this post was going to be about Neil Young. He once did an album called Broken Arrow. (Wow, she sat next to him on a plane! Oh, wait, that’s not what happened.)
I wonder what my Red Indian name would be. Probably something like Sleeps In Bed.
Maybe you could do a blog post on what everyone’s Red Indian name would likely to be Molly? Could be fun!
Someone less amazing with people might not have even talked to him during the flight, much less have received a gift from him! You must have made him feel really good too!
It’s always great to meet interesting single-serving friends on the plane. When I was travelling a lot at my previous job, I was always surprised by some of the really cool people I met.
It would be great to see pictures of the pendant if you get a chance.
Holzschlag–
This may be somewhat off topic, but then for good, bad or indifferent, some of us have a tendency to speak our minds no matter what.
I am without knowledge as to specifics of why your Marine decided to affect a name change that reflects his current beliefs nor do I have a need or want to know. I can, however, think of several dozen scenarios and conditions that would precipitate such a desire and need.
There was obviously a definite bond created between the two of you of respect and unspoken understanding.
Your Marine may have re-visited a learning experience that duty is important. The Corps instills duty. They also drive home God, Country, Corps. The difficult lesson learned may have been duty in all things except honor.
But, I believe that you already know that. You are driven as a result of many things and for many reasons. Your insight comes from many sources. Your Marine understood that. His gift to you indicated that. Never compromise the reasons for that gift nor from the many areas where that gift was born, not for a moment that I believe you ever could. [And no, Molly, that gift, what it represents and the source from where it was born ... a photograph of it on the Net would not be right.]
It is a lesson that many of us need to occasionally revisit, honor above all else.
There are things that gnaw at a “man” worse than dying.
Indian… as in, from India?
You seem to be a very likable seatmate. Not that I would have doubted it
What we need is always available to us. Often the challenge is to be open and willing to receive – the gift and the knowledge. He knew that you were ready to accept his gift, would treat it with respect and honor the intent.
And in so doing he found the storyteller he sought.
What an honor.
Ze’ Indian as in American Indian. The Yaqui tribe. That’s why I provided links
Also, I’ve been able to post a photo if anyone’s interested:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mollyeh11/534000602/
Strange experience, if you ask me.
But fascinating, and very worth telling and writing so that it doesn’t get lost in the cobwebs of memory.
Thanks for sharing, She-who-is-as-passionate-as-storm
What a lovely story. I got over here from the flickr shot of the pendant. Beautiful pendent, beautiful story.
thanx
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