Delaware's Forgotten Folk by C. A. Weslager

Author:C. A. Weslager [Weslager, C. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Social Science, Ethnic Studies, American, Native American Studies, History, Indigenous Peoples of the Americas
ISBN: 9780812208085
Google: KG_MzRo-n88C
Publisher: University of Pennsylvania Press
Published: 2012-07-05T04:24:26+00:00

It is dusk in Indian River Hundred. The birds have gone to roost in the spruce and pine trees. The countryside is hushed. There is no moon or stars tonight and the sky and earth are soon alike in blackness. Rain is expected before morning. About 8:30 the headlights of a car stab the night, and the first family drives up in front of the little Indian school where the meeting will be held. After a while other cars come. By that time the driver of the first car has started a fire in the wood stove to take off the damp chill in the schoolhouse, which has not been heated all day. It is the custom for the one who arrives first to prepare for the others.

As they enter the school, the women pause before some of the crayon drawings tacked up on the frame of the blackboard. There is an exclamation of pleasure as one mother sees her son’s name in a boyish scrawl on one of the drawings. One of the men lifts the oil lamp and shakes it close to his ear to make sure there is enough oil to last the evening. Another arranges some of the seats, brushing off the dust with his hat. You can see by their faces that they are all proud of the school. It is a symbol to them of their independence and freedom from prejudice. Here their children are taught to be proud of their Indian ancestry.

When the room is filled, Chief Charles Clark stands up and asks if everyone’s there that’s coming. An unexplainable, never-failing communications system in the Hundred keeps the Nanticokes in tune to their neighbors’ comings and goings. Although their houses are separated by several miles, news gets around with the speed of the wind. “Isaac should a been here by now,” someone says. “His house was dark when I drove past.” The words are scarcely spoken when Isaac enters, accompanied by one of the tribal patriarchs who is too feeble to attend the meeting unaided. His cane beats a rat-a-tat on the floor as he takes a seat up front.

Isaac does not explain that he is late because he stopped to pick up the old man. Everybody knows. Words are precious so there is no need to waste them. The meeting is called to order and Patience Harmon, the secretary, reads the minutes of the last meeting. Reading and writing are women’s work among the Nanticokes. The men of the last generation had time only for a few month’s schooling, but the girls were more fortunate. Today every wife is her husband’s private secretary.

The lamplight plays on the faces of the audience, who listen intently to every word read from the minute book. On one of the long benches sit Will Wright, his wife Lottie, and their two younger sons. Two older boys are in the army. Will is hard of hearing, so he cups his hand over his ear and cranes his neck forward to catch every word.

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