MENTAL IMPLOSION AVERTED!

THE MORE YOU KNOW, THE LESS YOU HAVE TO SAY. That's been my mantra for the bigger part of my life BUT at 78 years old, virtual volumes of facts, figures, fiction, fantasies, folders and "Fhotos" rattle around between my cerebrum, cerebellum and medulla. Not certain whether said collection of information, knowledge and general falderal will cause a huge brain blast or simply ooze out, thus forming a puddle of generational acumen unbeknownst to the masses, I find it's time to relieve the pressure and reduce these nearly eight decades to a virtual encyclopedia of print. Runnin' out of shoppin' days, I hate to leave a multitude of everything from expertise to horse feathers left unsaid. Herein lies the problem. A veritable plethora of subjects loom as the launch ramp for my ship into the sea of gobbledygook.

There is an "End game" to all this madness, actually two. As my sun is slowly sinking on the horizon, I have found a major cause and one not so major that I choose to direct my attention and assistance to, for what it's worth.

This is NOT another article about politics, division, diversity or the woke generation.

I've had the privilege to visit the Pine Ridge Reservation in southwestern South Dakota. As an American, a patriot, a descendant of immigrants, I am dismayed, angered and deeply saddened at what I've seen. Don't get me wrong. The reservation consists of nearly 20,000 Native Americans from the Oglala, Lakota and Hunkpapa tribes. Many accept the term Sioux but many don't. The literal translation in their language means "snake".

The "Rez" is tragically treated like a third world country. Just like everywhere, there are some residents that are introverts and enjoy their privacy but I'm ashamed of how these proud indigenous people are forced to live and survive.

There are two sides to most stories. Bottom line here is "we" stole the land they lived and prospered on. (They never claimed they owned it. Were only the caretakers) We killed off their food sources. We gave them 2 million acres of land. Ha! Have you seen the "badlands" of South Dakota?

As a point of reference and justification, Pine Ridge is the poorest county in the United States. Average income per capita is $4700 PER YEAR! Average life expectancy is 47 YEARS! 52% of the people are diabetic. Over 60% are alcoholics. AND 82% UNEMPLOYMENT!!!

Take the plight of our veterans, the homeless on our streets and the crime in our cities then multiply by 10. These folks need and deserve our help.

This is how and why I have chosen to help in any small way I can. I will expound on my exploits at Pine Ridge before delving into my other "brain matter".

I must admit my recent visit to the "Rez" was daunting to say the least. Pine Ridge has been on lockdown since the pandemic. I swear approaching the gate, manned by 10 or 12 masked security guards, gave me the feel of entering a maximum security prison. Prisons have some advantages these proud people don't even receive. Three meals a day, clean drinking water and a warm bed are rarities for over 2/3 of the population.

Driving down BIA 26 highway [Bureau of Indian Affairs], I realized I was quite possibly the only non-indigenous individual within 40 miles. Reaching the town of Porcupine, I stopped to photograph the only "supermarket" in the entire area. A normal Dollar General store would dwarf the entire facility. Peaking in the door, a large van would have held every product on the shelves.

A mile down the only paved road, I hung a left on to a very bumpy dirt road leading up a hill and into a large grassy field on which stood a house with decent siding, metal roof and "all" the windows. My gracious friend Alice, of the Oglala Lakota nation along with Running Strong, Little Bear and Charles greeted me like a long lost relative. [PICTURED ABOVE]

Alice runs a non-profit organization called First Families Now. They accept any and all goods, staples, necessities, food and water, then ration it out among the very needy and deserving people on the rez. I had stuffed my SUV with every item I could cram into each nook and cranny. Blankets, clothing, diapers, water, food and socks were what Alice expressed as dire needs. While we unloaded, I felt like I was actually doing something good for probably the most neglected, abused and deserving folks in this country.

SIDE NOTE HERE: I had top loaded an older but like new mink coat, knowing the need for extreme warmth, since many homes have no windows and often no floors. Well, Running Strong grabbed that coat and put it on within the first 30 seconds. Alice said he will probably never take it off ... and to my knowledge, he hasn't. [black cowboy hat and coat pictured above].

I was taken in as family by these wonderful and proud Native Americans. They fielded my myriad of questions with candor and respect as I was honored and anxious to learn their heritage and history.

I did ask if I could visit the WOUNDED KNEE MASSACRE SITE AND MONUMENT. Alice warned that it was closed to the outside. I now admit I cheated somewhat. My car, inadvertently, made a right instead of a left and I ended up at the sacred memorial but THAT is another story and then some.

Hopefully, the website, store, photos, videos and future "pow wows" at Pine Ridge will peak your interest a bit.