Voices from Pejuhutazizi by Teresa Peterson and Walter LaBatte Jr

Author:Teresa Peterson and Walter LaBatte Jr.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Minnesota Historical Society Press

Funerals

Back in my youth, it was standard practice for the men in our community to dig the grave of one of our own. And so was the case in this story, which took place back in the early 1960s. I believe I am the only one left alive who witnessed this event. Fortunately, both of my brothers were back from the service, and I felt kind of proud to walk up to Doncaster Cemetery with them to help dig the grave. Someone from the cemetery had marked out the grave, and so we all took turns digging. Halfway done, we started to notice rotten wood, and sure enough we hit a grave. So, we moved over and proceeded to dig again. One of our elders was down in the hole digging, and suddenly the side wall caved in and exposed another grave. He jumped out of there and ran away scared. We all had our chance to jump back in and look. The ground did not cave in from the top but left a cavity where the bones were clearly visible. Eerie, yes.

• • • •

I am reminded of a story or experience Dad told me long time ago. He happened to be hunting on Sisseton Reservation, where he was raised. He was hunting in a patch of woods in the winter—cold and windy. This had to be in the 1910s, as he said he was just a youngster. He started to hear a noise but paid no attention because the wind was blowing so hard. It was a screeching noise and constant. He happened to look up into the trees and saw this skeleton blowing in the wind. He said at one time we Dakota buried our dead in trees, and after a year the family took the bones down and buried them. Dad intimated that this one was calling to get his attention, showing that he was still up in the trees.

• • • •

In Dad’s time, it was the practice to have the wake and funeral in the deceased’s home, and of course, no one at that time was embalmed. It was winter when they had the wake for this person, and they had the coffin set up in the house. It became warm in the house, with the woodstove and with all the people in attendance. The deceased suddenly sat up; they cleared the house in seconds, Dad said. Cooler heads prevailed, and they surmised that because of the heat his muscles tightened and thus he sat up. They returned him to the supine position, and the services continued. But if I was there, I would have been the first one out—even if I had to climb over people.

• • • •

This grandpa died, and he would occasionally show up in familiar surroundings, sitting in his favorite chair. He made himself visible to his grandkids, and they became scared. “Ha! We saw Grandpa sitting over there!” This upset his widow, and she matter-of-factly went in where he made himself known and scolded him for scaring the grandkids.

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