Andrew George on my mind.
His name has been circling in my brain all weekend--Andrew George. Sure, at this first college football weekend, BYU beat Oklahoma, and a receiver with that name burned Oklahoma with some spectacular catches, and won that game for BYU.
Big guy, big time player. But the "Andrew George" who owns that name in my heart and mind was a very big man with the tribe, big leader, and respected elder. A long way from a football player.
Nevermind that he was short in stature and had a bum leg. He had a presence that demonstrated how one's spirit soars beyond the limits of the body.
I've discovered that posting photos of elders, friends, mentors--shuffles those cards back into the deck. Google "Andrew George" right now, and you'll find that football player--but now the internet can perhaps also lead to Andrew George, Umatilla tribal elder and seer. Rightful respect and recognition paid for contributions made, and work done. In a strange way, the net bestows a measure of immortality, putting faces and stories back into the mix of time and memory.
In this shot, George is judging a young people's fancy dance competition. It's a posture that appears again and again in my negative files. He stands off to the side, leaning on his cane, silently taking in everything.
Time and time again, over the years, I'd be startled to find the man where I never expected to see him, silently observing, and at the most, acknowledging his permission for me to take a picture, with the slightest nod of his head. Whenever things were happening, he was always around, steadfast, holding that cane like a helmsman holding a tiller on course.
I'm going to follow this post with another shot, from those times. What seems like a rather mundane gathering, but actually an important meeting at an important time in tribal history. And Andrew George is characteristically off to one side, letting it all unfold. Strange how one random thought, a play in a Saturday college ballgame, can lead to an entirely different space and time.
Andrew George on my mind.
His name has been circling in my brain all weekend--Andrew George. Sure, at this first college football weekend, BYU beat Oklahoma, and a receiver with that name burned Oklahoma with some spectacular catches, and won that game for BYU.
Big guy, big time player. But the "Andrew George" who owns that name in my heart and mind was a very big man with the tribe, big leader, and respected elder. A long way from a football player.
Nevermind that he was short in stature and had a bum leg. He had a presence that demonstrated how one's spirit soars beyond the limits of the body.
I've discovered that posting photos of elders, friends, mentors--shuffles those cards back into the deck. Google "Andrew George" right now, and you'll find that football player--but now the internet can perhaps also lead to Andrew George, Umatilla tribal elder and seer. Rightful respect and recognition paid for contributions made, and work done. In a strange way, the net bestows a measure of immortality, putting faces and stories back into the mix of time and memory.
In this shot, George is judging a young people's fancy dance competition. It's a posture that appears again and again in my negative files. He stands off to the side, leaning on his cane, silently taking in everything.
Time and time again, over the years, I'd be startled to find the man where I never expected to see him, silently observing, and at the most, acknowledging his permission for me to take a picture, with the slightest nod of his head. Whenever things were happening, he was always around, steadfast, holding that cane like a helmsman holding a tiller on course.
I'm going to follow this post with another shot, from those times. What seems like a rather mundane gathering, but actually an important meeting at an important time in tribal history. And Andrew George is characteristically off to one side, letting it all unfold. Strange how one random thought, a play in a Saturday college ballgame, can lead to an entirely different space and time.