Sunday, February 1, 2009

2-1-09 NAMAPAHH Radio Show Archived- Jim Main Sr walks on~/@

2-1-09 NAMAPAHH Radio Show Archived- Jim Main Sr walks on~/@


21-2-09 NAMAPAHH First People's Radio Show Archived-

Please come on by! Leave a Comment~ Prayers & condolences for the Family,friends and fellow AIM members & activists of James Main Sr. I wish I had a chance to meet him, shake his hand, gift him with a prayer feather & thank him for all the work he has done on behalf of the Mother Earth and ALL her people….his legacy will live on, Like Floyd’s, Vine’s and many others that went on before him….he is in good company & they all will be the Eagles & white hawks that come to us…in the dark hours, when we may give up in despair & defeat when it happens…but we must carry on in ALL their memories! They have carved a solid path for us….we are all united & have a new time of Change inviting us all to keep our sleeves rolled up!
Robin Carneen, Connie Allen & the NAMAPAHH Family~

Red feathers  hawk Pictures, Images and Photos

Sunday, February 1, 2009
Crossing the Bar: Ga-a-woo-wuss (Coyote Bear), a.k.a. James Main, Sr., of the White Clay Nation
2/1/2009
5:00 PM-7PM PST
120 Minutes

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/NAMAPAHH_Radio/2009/02/02/Crossing-the-Bar-Ga-a-woo-wuss-Coyote-Bear-aka-James-Main-Sr-of-the-White-Clay-Nation


Crossing the Bar: Ga-a-woo-wuss (Coyote Bear), a.k.a. James Main, Sr., of the White Clay Nation



We will pay we're tribute to Jim Main Sr of IEN, with music & open phone lines- please feel free to call in between 5-7PMPST/7-9PM EST- all others factor in time difference..we're hoping to hear from family, friends, fellow IEN members & those concerned about Indigenous & Environmental issues..we will carry on in his memory..(718)508-9165


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Indigenous Environmental Network: [Spirit Path Memorial] James Main, Sr.
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Jim Main Sr.., elder and warrior was an integral part in the founding and creation of IEN, and was a long term National Council member for IEN. He was also a member of the International Indigenous Treaty Council and the Grand Governing Council of the American Indian Movement. His teachings of wisdom and the memory of his humor and traditional songs will stay with us. Ga-a-woo-wuss (Coyote Bear), a.k.a. James Main, Sr., of the White Clay Nation died peacefully in his sleep at approximately 4:30 a.m. on January 29, 2009.

His hard-fought battle with End-Stage Congestive Heart Failure over the past several years finally took its toll about two weeks ago. Like a true warrior, he did not go down easily, but went with honor and dignity. To the end, he maintained his humor, making those around him laugh…and cry as he used his dwindling strength to sing, talk Indian, pray, and tell of old times. Always at the center of his heart and spirit was the survival of the Red Nations..

It is an overwhelmingly sad day for his loved ones here on earth, but truly a victorious day for a warrior who is so deserving of the peace, love, and acceptance he will meet as all our relatives take him to his rightful place in the spirit world, known as the "Big Sands" to the White Clay people. Wake services will be held Saturday, January 31 beginning at 5:00 p.m. at his residence in Hays, Montana. Traditional services will be held Sunday, February 1 at 1:00 p.m. followed by burial at the family cemetery in Big Warm, Montana.

If you would like to make a contribution to the family at this time - Please Contact: Rose Main: 406.390.5350 (mobile), 406.673.3013 (home) James Main, Sr.'s residence: 406.673.3813 William "Snuffy" Main: 406.945.7349 Harold "Jiggs" Main: 406.262.3041


Read more of the life and work of James Main, Sr. at Censored News.

Photo Credit: James Main, Sr. at his home, taken by Brenda Norrell
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Found this posted on another blog entitled Censored News...
(http://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/ )

By Tia Oros Peters
Photo of Jim Main, Sr, at home by Brenda Norrell
Dear Seventh Generation Fund Relatives and Friends,

With a heavy heart I share with you the news of Jim Main Sr., (Gros Ventre) passing to the Spirit World. As many of you may remember Jim Main, he was a steadfast and unrelenting warrior for Indigenous Peoples and especially for our homelands and sacred sites. In fact, his words and guidance helped inform our Sacred Sites Protection Campaign – including our memorable person Sacred Earth Summit in 2001 in Seattle, WA, and again, in 2002 in San Diego, CA.

A member of the White Clay Society, Jim was a treasured leader to Seventh Generation Fund for many years. He will be sorely missed by our organization. We trusted Jim. We were honored when he attended our convenings and shared his great wisdom, wit, and generous spirit. He taught us through his conduct and his dedication. We looked to him often to help us. And, he was always generous.

Jim was a true and consistent warrior, to be sure. And, as such, he was also a gracious, kind, thoughtful and honorable leader that set for us a clear pathway of how to continue work on behalf of our respective peoples.

Jim would be so pleased to know of recent sacred sites victories in places like Panhe in California, and just a couple of days ago in Zuni, New Mexico. It would have been great to march with him in Redding, in the struggle to protect Hatchet Mountain (Pit River Country) from (so-called green) windmills that will damage a sacred area, and severely impact golden and bald eagle habitat. He knows, where he is now in the other world, that we will continue the good fight for our peoples. Today, in mourning, and reflecting on how much we have learned from Jim Main Sr., we carry forward – heavy hearted but as determined as ever to strive, to fight, to honor our ancestors, as he did.

It is always so hard when we lose one of our elders. The world seems that much emptier, bigger, more difficult to travel through. Jim’s presence meant a great deal to so many of our community and projects. SGF sincerely hopes that our work continues to carry forth the great legacy and integrity of Jim Main Sr., a warrior of character, determination, and outstanding leadership. On behalf of our organization, board, staff and the Indigenous communities we serve throughout the Indigenous World, I extend a heartfelt condolence to Jim’s family, community and Nation.

May he be in peace.
All Our Relations,
Tia --Tia Oros Peters, Executive Director, Seventh Generation Fund for Indigenous Development, Office Ph: 707-825-7640 x111 http://www.7genfund.org/

Supporting Social, Environmental and Cultural Justice for 32 Years (1977 – 2009)
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( Myspace blog by Scott Barta: Jim Main And Me )

In 1981, I was attending a Sun Dance at Wind Cave National Park where my cousin and mentor, Greg Zephier. Sr., was asked to build a Life Renewal “Sweat Lodge” for the Lakota dancing there and also erect a couple Tipi’s. Greg was a Statesman of the Ihanktunwan DaNakota Nation, representing many nations at the United Nations in New York City and traveling extensively throughout Grand Mother Earth educating the world’s people regarding Indigenous Treaty and Human Rights. Greg was also a Spiritual Advisor, putting people on the hill to Fast, running Sun Dances, and performing Life Renewal Lodge ceremonies for many nations and peoples throughout his lifetime. He was also a Master Craftsman and musician, teaching his children how to play instruments so they could form the now famous soul rock band “Indigenous.”
At the Wind Cave Sun Dance, Greg asked me if I would travel to see his friend, James “Jim” Main, Sr.’s home in Big Warm, Montana on the Gros Ventre Fort Belknap Indian Reservation and cut Tipi Poles for our Sun Dance Tipi’s. We had talked about Greg’s friend, Jim Main, previously (I had never met him) and that Jim had offered generously for us to come up and cut and take home as many Tipi Poles as we wanted.
So I said ‘yes’ and off I went, hitchhiking to north central Montana to Jim Main’s place.
Greg gave me a ride to the northwest end of Rapid City where I started my ‘journey.’ I got a ride to Gillette, Wyoming and had to walk from one end of town to the other along the interstate, when the clouds came over and it seemed as though it was going to snow – all I had for a jacket was a flannel shirt, as it was the first few days of August.
It was late in the afternoon and I began to look to the side of the road where there was a group of trees and tall grass I thought would help me survive the night. Then I decided to take out a cigarette and offer it to the Sky and Earth and not one minute later, a small car pulled right over and the guy offered me a ride. I got in the car and the guy had a car phone! So I called the Black Hills Alliance office where I had worked and asked a friend there to contact his friends in Sheridan, Wyoming to see if I could stay the night there with them, if I made it that far. He said he would find out and call me back on the car phone.
Just as we were getting to Buffalo, Wyoming, and exiting on the off ramp, where my ride had to turn off, the phone rang! My friend gave me the address and phone number of the people in Sheridan and said if I could make it I was welcome to stay there.
I walked a half a mile and another car picked me up and took me right up to the house in Sheridan.
I spent the night there with those people and the next day a friend of theirs was heading to Lame Deer, Montana on the Cheyenne Indian Reservation to attend a Sun Dance there. Even though Lame Deer was back east a ways, I decided to catch a ride over there and see if anyone was headed to north central Montana.
I attended the Cheyenne Sun Dance for a while and asked around, but nobody was headed that way, so I got on the highway to hitchhike to Billings. A young Cheyenne man about my age picked me up. His name was “Big Back.” He took me to his house that was located right along the highway. When we got in his home, he had two sisters that were beautiful – but I had to press forth and get those poles, I kept telling myself. They fed me – so I knew they could cook – but I had to go to Jim Mains to get those poles! I always wonder what happened to the Big Back girls. Anyway.
So I got a ride to the Crow Reservation with Big Back and a Mexican family picked me up and took me into Billings, where my father’s co-worker’s brother lived (I had been there years before). It was late in the afternoon, so I called my Dad and asked him to get hold of another one of his friends who lived there, a woman named Bernie something, so I could possibly stay with her – as I could not get hold of the other number.
My Dad looked up the name in Billings with the first name initial and called, but it was a man. My Dad explained the situation and the guy offered to help out – that I could stay with him. My Dad called and I said ‘yeah.’ I was getting ready to go the Indian bar and go home with someone from there, so this stranger option with a similar phone book name seemed a lot better and safer.
The guy was late picking me up – his car wouldn’t start so he was on a motorcycle, and I asked if we could drive by the house up on the hill overlooking billings where the number wasn’t working, so we rode up there and the guy was home! My Dad’s secretary had given me the wrong number, two numbers were switched. So I stayed at our friend’s place overnight and that’s where I got one of my Indian names. The guy had a slingshot on his porch so I grabbed it and put a pebble in it and turned around and just innocently shot it toward the outdoor security yard light and it hit the light and knocked it out.
I got a ride to the north edge of Billings the next morning and got a ride with a young guy who had two fishing poles in the back. He wanted to stop at the Missouri River to fish, I said ‘sure’ so we pulled over, got out, went down to the river and immediately got dive-bombed by giant mosquitoes who did not land and rub their hands together – but came in stinger first and asked questions later. Well I don’t know if they asked questions alter or not because we ran back to the car as fast as we could. Never get out of the car in the middle of Montana near the Missouri River in early August.
Although the Jim Main Ranch was 25 miles west off the highway, the young kid gave me a ride clear over there to Big Warm and dropped me off at the dirt driveway leading the half mile up to Jim Main’s house. Jim’s son and grandson happened to be riding horseback right there, so I told them who I was and what was going on and he told me to hop on – so the last leg of my journey was on Jim’s grandson’s horse right up to the front porch. I was always so lucky hitchhiking.
So I got to finally meet Jim Main. Greg always praised the man, so I knew if Greg thought highly of him, he must have been an important person. Greg had the same type of respect and admiration for a great Indigenous man from Oklahoma named Phillip Deer and an Oglala man from Pine Ridge named Mathew King.
Jim told me to relax and enjoy the place, that we would postpone cutting poles for a few days as there were activities going like the annual Pow-wow and hunting excursions. I got to meet his wife, children, and grandkids and got to hang out with and know Jim Main. Their home was like a paradise – I probably called in “Jim Main’s Paradise” to him, as he had been to the famed “Crow Dog’s Paradise” in Grass Mountain, Rosebud and everyone in the American Indian Movement (AIM) knew that place. He had many acres of land just under the Little Rockies Mountain Range and there was even a warm springs just above his house.
He explained that we were on the same Treaty – the 1851Treaty of Fort Laramie, with his Gros Ventre Nation, and that we were always allies because of this. He would always tell me his family and nation stories about the Treaty and about Indigenous life. I began to understand why my cousin Greg so highly revered this man.
He had over 75 really nice Horses. Once he wanted to ride so we went out and cornered the herd and he picked out the nicest, biggest, strongest buckskin and lasso-ed it. He really looked good on that Horse, with his cowboy hat on and his superior presence.
Once they corralled some wild Horses and the corral they build was so huge, the animals looked like little miniature ponies running around in circles in there.
We attended their Pow-wow and in the Men’s’ Fancy Dance contest category there were no contestants, with the first place prize being $400. We searched high and wide for an outfit for me but could not come up with any bustles so we had to let the $400 go.
I went hunting with Jim’s son and grandson and we only seen an Elk, because I walked through a coolie thicket and scared it out and it just stood there, eyes looking right through me from about 75 feet away before I shot it in the heart area. As it dropped to its knees, Jim’s son shot where the head was just a split second sooner and the dirt flew up on the hill behind. That fast the Elk jumped up and sprang over the hill and as I started the chase, a huge thorn over an inch long went right into my shin. I had to stop and give Jim’s son my gun as he had run out and I had one left. It was evening so we got up the next day to try to find the Elk but it was only slightly injured and even if it was shot right in the heart, Jim told me they are so powerful, they can still run miles just on spirit alone.
We did get a Deer. Jim wounded it and when it came around the corner where I was in hiding waiting for it I shot it in the heart with a pistol Jim had given me from his glove box. Jim’s son came and finished the Deer off by hitting it over the head with the butt of his rifle. I didn’t know I shot the Deer until the boys gutted it and found the pistol bullet in the heart (luck).
We eventually went up the mountain and cut 175 Tipi Poles – the best kind, Lodge Pole Pine. Jim showed me how to tell Lodge Poles by the two needles instead of three that are on other Pines. On the way up, Jim showed me the destruction that the gold mining was doing and the harm to the Earth and contamination to the water they were fighting.
We cleaned the bark off (“skinned”) the poles and prepared 93 poles for the trip back to Marty, South Dakota where Greg lived on the Yankton Sioux Reservation in southeast South Dakota. Greg was going to bring up a pickup truck to haul the poles back once we were ready. Cleaning the Tipi poles was a tough job and should be required for all boys so that they can reach manhood.
My cousin came up with a half ton, regular old Ford pickup and made an ingenious rack to hold the poles out of Pine, but it was not strong enough to hold that many poles – so Jim gave us a stock rack to use. The poles fit perfectly between the metal bars two per row and off we went with the truck nearly busting its springs. I think we may have invented the “low rider” vehicles at this time, but do not know for sure if anyone from California seen us traveling along the roads between Montana and South Dakota.
The springs held and we made it back to the Sun Dance grounds where we immediately broke out in a sweat from the high humidity of Marty. When we unloaded the poles, we counted 102 – but we had counted 93 at least three times and there was no way anyone could have thrown on nine more poles!
I seen Jim Main a few more times over the years from then to now and had just heard he passed away on January 29, 2009. I immediately called his daughter and left a message on her phone, telling her I had heard of her Father’s passing and because the funeral was on the day that I heard and was unable to attend (February 1st), I wanted to let her know that I knew her Father as a great man and that we loved him and his family. I said as Ihanktunwan, we considered Jim a great person. Then I decided to write this story down and put it on my web pages so that everyone might know the greatness of Jim Main.
Scott Barta, Ihanktunwan DaNakota Nation

www.1851Treaty.com
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Related Article & Links:


In Montana, Indians are guilty until proven innocent
By Brenda Norrell

HAYS, Montana – James Main, Sr., Gros-Ventre and longtime advocate of Indian rights, said some conditions have improved for American Indians in Montana, particularly the treatment of Indians by government officials. Ranchers in north-central Montana often get along well with
Indian cowboys.
However, the treatment of Indians by the Montana Justice System has not improved its treatment of Indian people.
"We've got a long way to go with the Justice system. I'd like to see a handful of radical attorneys come over here and shake this place up, attack the system," Main said.
Main, known internationally as a voice for Indigenous Peoples, now in poor health following open-heart surgery, has a personal view of the state system.
James Sr. laughs remembering how Bill Means said Jim Jr. should be a comedian because of his impersonations of John Wayne and others. Jim Jr. was the caregiver of his mother, Vernie White Cow Main, who lives on the homesite where she was born on Big Warm Creek on the Fort Belknap Nation.
James Sr. said, "Jim took care of her. He almost had to be a nurse for six months. He trained himself to take care of her."
James Sr. spent his life traveling for Indigenous rights, helping those who needed him. "I decided to do some good," he said of his decision to live a life in service to humankind.
"I learned a lot about different people and different cultures. I never knew there were other Indians in California. I thought John Wayne got them all," James Sr. joked.
"It's good to travel, travel around."
Seated at home in the community of his childhood at Hays, James Sr. is surrounded by memories and the passing of time.
"I don't know how long I'm going to last. I have got a lot of people praying for me. These Mayan Indians went up on a pyramid in Guatemala.
It must have been a very powerful ceremony. I knew; it was in my mind."
On his living room wall, there is a huge poster of a Gros Ventre man. It reads, "Sits on High, EK-GIB-TSA-ATSKE, of the White Clay People A'AH'NI NIN."
James Sr. looks at the poster and says, "He did what they wanted him to do, settle down. Then, they took his land."
Speaking about those who took the land here, rich in gold, water and forests, he says, "They make a fortune and they die."
These days, James Sr. teaches his grandsons the philosophy that he has lived by. It is the philosophy of pride, self-esteem and honoring the culture.
"Go back to your old ways, traditions and culture. That is what I teach my grandsons. Try to get the language back," he adds. There are only a handful of speakers left.
James Sr. remembers the harsh years at St. Paul's Mission School.
During second grade, when the children went to pray during Christmas mass, the nuns told them Santa Claus would come if they had been good.
If not, there would be willow switches waiting. When they returned, they expected presents and instead found a stack of willow switches. There was also writing on the blackboard.
"I recognized the writing. It was a priest's, telling us how bad we were."
The little children were often beaten. James Sr. remembers, "They would slap us around for nothing."
Remembering his father Tom Main, James Sr. said, "He was a humanitarian, a real leader. He did things for nothing. He could have amassed a fortune, but he didn't."
James Sr. said Tom Main served as an interpreter at a time when few White Clay People spoke English. Tom served on the executive committee of the National Congress of American Indians.
"I learned a lot from him, he was honest to a fault," Jim Sr. said of his father.
"We had a pretty rough upbringing, we were poor and we had to haul water a long way. We burned wood, so we had to saw wood. My mother used to wash on Saturdays, all we did all day long was haul water."
James Sr. grew up with three brothers and four sisters. Today, all of his brothers are living and the oldest is 86. He served in the Air Force in Japan and was there when the Korean War began in 1950.
James Sr. also worked in the copper mines for 15 years. "That's where there was never racism, a melting pot."
The happiest days of his life were spent during his high school years. "We rode horseback, we rode bucking horses; there were lots of wild horses. We had powwows during the holidays, I really enjoyed those. We had bone games, hand games, we would sing songs and have a guessing game. We tried to guess whose hand the bone was in."
The men and women played each other. Kumeyaay have similar games, he said. During their travels, both Jim Sr. and Jim Jr. earned the respect of Indian people.
Read entire article:
http://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-montana-indians-are-guilty-until.html

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