Showing posts with label Bear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bear. Show all posts

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Bear hind sight near perfect as we approach 2020


One Cherokee clan called themselves the Ani Tsa'gu hi.  It is told that a young boy of the clan kept disappearing into the forest only to return to the village a little hairier each time. The elders of the tribe ask the boy what was going on, the youngster acknowledge that he had been spending time with the bears of the forest sharing their foods and ways, He told the elders the bears had plenty of food and that the rest of the tribe could join him rather than go hungry but first they would have to fast in order to prepare for the transformation.
Informing the other tribal clans, this Ani Tsa'gu hi clan chose to follow the boy and leave the human world of struggle and hunger behind and live forever with the Black Bears in their abundant forest.
Upon their departure from the known world of Cherokee towns and villages, the Ani Tsa'gu hi, informed all the other Cherokee clans of their departure, "We are going where there is much food. Do not fear to kill us, for we will be ever alive. "
It's not hard to imagine that there are some Cherokee living in the mountains today, who think descendants of the Ani Tsa'gu hi clan that might still be living in the mountain forest as Black Bears. There are also tales of how humans might be the descendants of Black Bears losing their fur and changing their ways.
__ from Blue Ridge Highlander

Hind sight for bear like me is always better as time goes on. It is near perfect, as we get closer to 2020. Almost every thing I know, I learned mostly in the little town of Dolores, Colo.
Today, the local police reported that a fellow with my same name, and just about my age, had been killed down in the 400 block of St. Vrain Street, in Colorado Springs. 

"Some grandfathers told the story of the great grizzly bear, who captured the Great Spirit Manitou's daughter and forced her to marry him. They had many children, who became the Ute Nation after the Great Spirit took his grandchildren back. To punish the grizzly, Manitou forced it to walk on four feet instead of two.
It is true that the Ute's venerated the grizzly bear above all others and celebrate the arrival of spring by having a great feast, and performing the Bear Dance, which shows the great bear coming out of hibernation and this announcing the arrival of spring, a time of rebirth."
__ from The Boy Who Slept With Bears, A Southern Ute Story, by George R. Douthit, III

Just so you know, this is NOT me.
A different Robert Carrigan.

PUBLIC AFFAIRS SECTION RELEASE #1511-005
NEWS RELEASE: COLORADO SPRINGS POLICE DEPARTMENT
Thursday, November 5, 2015, 2:00PM {Release at Will}
The El Paso County Coroner’s Office has completed the autopsy on the deceased male. He has been identified as Robert Joseph Carrigan, a 54 year old male from Colorado Springs. The cause of Mr. Carrigan’s death was determined to be a gunshot wound. His manner of death is a homicide.
This CSPD Violent Crimes – Homicide Unit is continuing this investigation while maintaining close contact with the 4th Judicial District Attorney’s Office. As such, the name of the homeowner will not be released at this time.
NOTE TO MEDIA: All updates will ONLY come from the Public Affairs Unit when available.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015, 2:00AM {Release at Will}
On Tuesday, November 3, 2015, at 9:59PM officers from the Gold Hill Division received an initial call for service of a burglary in progress in the 400 block of West St. Vrain Street. During the response the call was upgraded to a shots fired call for service.
Officers arrived and located an adult male who was deceased from an apparent gunshot wound.
There are no additional safety concerns for the community at this time. Detectives from the Violent Crimes Unit are conducting the investigation. They have contacted all of the individuals known to be associated with this investigation.
NOTE TO MEDIA: All updates will ONLY come from the Public Affairs Unit when available.
###
UPDATE: DEATH INVESTIGATION
400 BLOCK OF WEST ST. VRAIN STREET


 "A recorder of what has been done is equal to the greatest hunter, the bravest warrior, or even the holy man," he said. "To be such a historian, such a recorder, you must learn to see all things, know how they look, and how they are done. You must see that the young colt swims on the downstream side of the mother, behind the wall of her body, and that the wind does not always push arrows of the just. As the hills of one's youth are mountains, and the hunts all seem fat after the meat is long eaten, so memory makes every man the bravest in his long-ago encounters, and the enemies faced in battle become very many as the warrior days retreat. The picture is the rope that ties memory solidly to the stake of the truth."
__ Picture Maker, member of the Lakota Nation from The Story Catcher, by Mary Sandoz.

It has been difficult at times. Just this week,  I lost a friend, and fellow story teller. They don't always give us enough yarn to stretch out into a long, comfortable tale with a happy ending.
The bear lives in a mean environment. Over time, he is witness to things that aren't fair. The truth is painful. Winter is coming.  You can't effectively train bears to dance, without taking some risks.
In general, the story of some of my bear friends has brought to me, great sadness.
But hind sight gets better as time goes on. Especially as we approach 2020.
The bear puts on weight for the expected long winter. Cranky and prone to growls, yes.  Hairy, smelly and awkward, yes. But easier to live with than a snake or coyote. And more entertaining, if you don't try to make him dance.


There is a little hill called tqnts'i'se ko just across the Mancos Canyon, which used to be a house. It was the home of 12 brothers. The brothers were great hunters and hunted all over the mesas. They had one sister. The girl grew to be a beautiful maiden, and the holy men came from far and wide to ask her to marry them. The maiden's name was Ataed' diy ini. When her brothers were away hunting she stayed at home alone. Now the Coyote came to the brothers and called out "Brother-in-law." He wanted this maiden to become his wife. Ataed' diy ini told him "No," for only the one who killed the giant would become her husband. The Coyote sat there with his head down for a moment, then he said "Very well." He left her and went to the home of the giant. - Coyote tricks the giant into a sweathouse where he tricks him into sawing off his leg in order to gain swiftness and strength. - He tried to make them grow together. But the Coyote grabbed the giant's severed leg and ran away with it, saying "I never heard of a bone growing together in a day." The Coyote took the giants's leg to the maiden and told her that he had killed the giant. But the maiden said that before she would marry him she would have to kill him; and if he could return to life, then he could be her husband.
The Coyote hung his head and covered his eyes with his hand for a moment. "Very well," he said, and he went away. - Coyote hides his vitals in mountains and wind, thereafter the maiden kills him four times altogether. - but after a little while the Coyote came in and said "Now are you my wife?" The maiden asked him how he could do these things. He told her that after she became his wife he would show her his magic. He became her husband and she became his wife. Then he took her to the east and showed her the mountain and the tunnel that he had made. And he took her to the south, and west, and north. She learned to do what the Coyote had done. He taught her his ways. - After this her brothers return and notice that she "is not the same," whereupon they deal with their new brother-in-law by moving out. They go out hunting and Coyote joins them despite the rejection of his new in-laws. He invites himself into trouble which causes him his death at the hands of the Swallow people. The maiden upon the brothers return without her husband, accuses them of killing him, despite their denials. She tracks him and finds his remains. - After the woman left her brothers to go look for the Coyote the eldest brother said "Listen now to my words our sister is about to do something still more evil." When the woman returned to the house she told her brothers that the people in the canyon had killed her husband. She would not sit down in the home. She prepared herself to go against the cliff people. First, she took her sewing awls and sharpened them; then she hid her heart and lungs as the Coyote had taught her, and turned herself into a great bear with sharp teeth and claws, and she went forth against the people of the canyon. - Her war with the Swallow of cliff people cost them many lives but did not harm her. - Always when she returned to her brothers she was in her woman form. But her name was now Esdza' shash nadle, the Woman who Became a Bear. - Her violence turned from hatred to a bloody rage as she now killed during the daytime, whereas she had only killed at night. Her brothers fearing reprisals too, hid the youngest brother in their dwelling.
After returning home the Bear Woman divined their location, and catching up with her brothers killed them all save the last. She saw the youngest was missing so she divined again to locate him beneath the ashes of her brother's dwelling. She tries to kill him while grooming him but the wind warns him in to be wary and helps thwart her deception. - Now the boy watched her shadow, and each time that he caught her changing into the bear form he turned and looked at her and she became a woman. After the fourth time he had his muscles set, and jumped away from her. Sure enough she grabbed his belt; but the tie was loosened and he escaped. She was near him when he reached the cactus. He jumped over it; she ran around it. The second time she was near him he jumped over the yucca; the third time he jumped over the fallen log; and the fourth time, over the great boulder. Then her heart became nervous, and the chipmunk who was guarding it screamed. The heart and the lungs were beating up and down just ahead of the boy. They were covered with oak leaves. The Bear Woman cried out "Oh, brother, brother, stop! There are my heart and lungs. There is my life." Now when the boy saw the leaves beating up and down in fright he jumped over them, and he shot his arrow into them. The Bear Woman fell, and the blood gushed out of her mouth and nostrils. The boy returned near her, and the little breeze told him to stop the blood. It must not flow, for if it met the blood from her heart she would become whole again. So the boy pulled the Bear Woman's carcass away.
He was angry. He spread her legs and cut out her sex organs. He said "You have the sex organs of a woman, and great trouble has come of it." He tossed it to the top a tree and said "The people of the earth shall use you henceforth." It became pitch that is found on cedar and pinion trees. Then he cut off her breasts and said "You have a woman's breasts and still you have caused great trouble." He tossed them to the top of a tree and said "The people of the earth shall use you." And they became pinion nuts. After these things happened many people planned to leave the mesas. They were afraid of the Woman who become a bear. They buried the Calendar Stone; they wrapped their dead; and leaving their belongings, they went away. But before they left they drew pictures on the rocks of all the things that trouble came from.
 ___ The Dine' Origin Myths of the Navajo Indians; 1956, Aileen O'Bryan.


Friday, May 16, 2014

Don't want anything to do with the place



Don't want anything to do with the place.
Can't stand the smell, color, the looks on his face.

Lots money spent, people hired — all in the name of healin' ya'
Watch you, tube you, wire you — and with any luck, avoid killin' ya'

The bear went in, just as he did in the old days.
They patched, and scratched, dosed and said "No ways."

He thought he was a goner, started saying goodbyes.
Reached for something way down, as we all just stood by.

Saw him after few weeks, other trouble seemed to focus him.
No grey color, fogged eyes, sissy grip, some pain — but rising like a crocus then.

Don't like it. Have trouble, don't want anything to do with the place.
Keep me out, can't stand it.  The smell, color, the looks on his face.

__ Rob Carrigan

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Count on it, if you want trout for breakfast

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the sun finally falls on the lake in the morning, it sometimes kicks up a steam, fog or a mist

By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com
 
When a bear cub is caught in the mountains, he is brought home alive and served human food in a log cage. If he is so young that he has no teeth, he is suckled by a human nurse. When the bear is two or three years old, the Bear Festival, called Iomante or Kumamatsuri, is held in mid-winter when the fur is thickest and the meat is sweetest with fat. When all is prepared, the bear is taken out of the cage with a rope and placed between the altar and the god's window. Villagers shoot the bear with ceremonial arrows and then kill it with ordinary arrows or crush it with a huge log. The dead bear is placed before the altar, offerings are made to it and dances are performed. Festivities last for three days and nights. On the first night, to the left of the fireplace, a secret ceremony is performed called Keo-Mante, which means sending the dead body off. The brain, tongue and eyeballs are taken out of the skull and it is filled with flowers. This ceremony is held at midnight and it sends the Chira-Mante-Kamui's spirit back to his mountain heaven home. No women are allowed to take part in this particular ceremony. It is important to realize that these ceremonies do not involve making peace with the bear's spirit because it provided food for humans. The Ainu do not conceive of these rituals as involving concepts of this sort. Their relationship with a god is the primary focus of the ceremonies, not the mere acquisition of calories, which mandates the placation of the animal spirit (K. Kindaichi, 1949). __ from Ainu Bear Ritual, www.bears.org, The Ainu are an aboriginal hunter/gatherer/fisher people who once inhabited many of the islands that bound the southern half of the Sea of Okhotsk north of the main Japanese island of Honshu.
Between Fifth and Sixth Street, there was a ridge of rock jutting out into the river from the North bank that created a bit of a back pool on that side. With low water you were able stand out on the rocks, getting out near the main flow, and cast upstream toward a large boulder, into the white caps and let the current carry your line into the deep hole near the opening of the back pool. When the conditions were right, we pulled good-sized Rainbows out of there in the twilight of Dolores mornings and evenings. The place could be counted on, if you wanted trout for breakfast.
A lot of things like that, in the little town, could be counted on.
Give Weinmaster the ball on third and five, and chances are, he would get you seven or more. He wasn’t that big then, but strong as a bull moose, with good speed and wild look in his eye. A silver toothed, winning smile, and a cock-sure confidence, made him popular with lady Bears of all ages.
Scott Weinmaster was a late arrival to Dolores, coming one summer to visit his dad, ‘Granny’ Leavell, and various cousins ­– and ended up staying for high school. His mom thought he needed to “see a psychologist” at the time for wanting to stay.
Rusty Hector remembers his first meeting, “I thought back to the first time I met Scott. ‘Who is the long-hair with Leavell?’ and I was glad he became a part of my life.”
As for myself, I had prior introduction when he visited his cousin Lynn Leavell several times in the years proceeding. Lynn’s family lived across the graveled Seventh Street from me. I vaguely recall the older boys (including his older brother Ivan) not letting a very young Scott, climb up in the big Broadleaf Cottonwood tree next door.
But not many successfully told him what he could, and could not do – by the time he was old enough for high school.
“He was the quintessential devil-may-care football player, a running back, a proud Dolores High School Bear, an all-state star,” wrote Paul Glaviano, in a 1999 article for the Tampa Tribune. “His powerful legs churning with fierce resolve, he loved to crash through tacklers and, on occasion, flat outrun them.”
I think he saw his mission as protector, of Lynn, and the rest of us, and we became as close as brothers. Glaviano had become familiar with Weinmaster as he covered high school sports for the Cortez Journal back in the early ‘80s and was following up, as Scott served as adaptive sports coordinator for HealthSouth Rehabilitation of Sarasota at the time of the article.
“They talked a lot about Scott Weinmaster in the small towns of southwest Colorado in 1981. Most thought he would go on to play college. One thing for sure: He’d be a success in life. No one who knew this self-assured yet modest young man with a dry wit doubted that,” wrote Glaviano.
“Well they were right. Weinmaster is one successful guy. The path he traveled, however, was not the expected one. He sat out as a red-shirt one season at Adams State College in Alamosa, Colo., but never got into a college football game. And after March 31, 1985, he never walked again. It happened in a wink on a snow-covered Denver street.”
“I was being stupid, driving too fast,” as Scott has told the story countless times. “I had new tires an thought I was going to be just A-OK.”
“But his car became a toboggan as he approached the intersection. He scooted through the red light and was hit by another car. His vehicle spun crazily across the street striking a utility pole rear first,” noted Glaviano.
When Weinmaster was first hurt all those years ago, as I told him in a recent conversation, I personally was worried that it would somehow change him. Maybe some others were too. But it didn’t take long to figure out it was going to take more than that.
“You know that when I got hurt, I still had to be strong for family and friends,” Scott responded. “Even though that is not how I felt. It was a tough time, but after the accident, I didn’t feel like I had to be the badass persona that I had before. It let me really be me, without worrying about having to step up and fight. You know I had a few of those instances … never liked that. Not to say that I still won’t smack someone if they deserve it. I was always the guy that was the protector of all of you… protector and friend. Anyone messed with you guys, they messed with me. Glad all of that is over,” he laughs. “If I have changed, it’s for the better… Strange to say.”
Rusty Hector remembers when he heard about the accident.
“I was in bed when the phone rang. Lynn was living with me in Durango while he was at the Fort (Fort Lewis College). He took the call and came and told me. I remember holding on to the hope that Scott would walk again. I recall my trip to the city to see him when he was living at the transition apartments. We discussed the education he had received at Swedish,” says Hector.
“The majority of us live with handicaps, (my eyeglasses for example). Post accident, he had more hurdles than most. He talked about others he had been with that were in the hospital with him and there were much worse situations than the one he faced. I left Denver thinking, ‘Scott was Scott’ and it changed my perception of ‘handicapped’ folks forever.”
I told Hector that I also thought Scott was pretty much the same as he ever was (perhaps a blessing and a curse), and recalled my observations. I visited Scott once or twice at Craig Rehab and then a few times in Denver when he was living at his mom’s house. I was up in Wyoming at the time.
“Scott never really showed much grief, or really anything but determination to overcome (that I personally remember) but I suppose I wasn’t around enough to observe that on any scale. Did you see him struggle? He has told me a few things about wrestling with it in general, but he has always been fairly direct and matter-of-fact about what he went through. That probably makes him a good counselor for others going through similar circumstances, I guess. His big ego is an asset in dealing with such adversity. Did you or Lynn struggle with the reality of Scott confined to a wheel chair? Did it affect your reality in any way?,” I asked.
“I couldn’t empathize with the handicapped until it happened to Scott. He put a human face on wheelchair-bound folks. Same guy he always was, now he has just a bit harder time getting around. It hit home when it happens to someone you are close to. You also come to the realization that ‘there, but for the grace of God, go I,’” said Hector.
“I remember the exact words Lynn used. They would not be suitable for publication. Don’t recall lengthy conversations with Lynn on the subject. More of a daily ‘update’ on the healing and recovery process as Scott recovered from the accident and relatives checked in with Lynn on Scott’s progress. It was a process that I think we all worked through… shock, reality, fundraiser, life,” he said.
Weinmaster says he doesn’t think he has changed much either.
“I am still the same guy, except I’m more sensitive towards others. I probably would have never finished college. I would have never gone to Alabama and Florida and met some amazing people along the way. I wouldn’t be teaching adaptive golf and coaching… It’s been a good path I am on. I guess the people I have met over the years have made me appreciate life. Even after I was hurt, I found I was a lucky one. I was still able to be independent while others had to struggle … kind of humbles you. I think people look at me the same. There are some idiots out there but they have always been there. I think I have been an inspiration to others spinal cord injured. You know me; I have always been confident and always will be. I’m just me.”
“Who is Scott Weinmaster,” I asked.
“I am just me,” he repeated. “I’m like anyone else getting through life, even though livin’ in a chair ain’t easy. I have a beautiful wife and I feel I have been blessed and challenged along the way. I remember talkin’ to Lynn and both of us sayin’ that whatever we do seems to turn out right. I’m a firm believer that if you were a quitter before you got hurt, then life is going to be hard. If not, your personality will always be there. You know me. I have always been confident and I always will be. I am still a prick when I have to be, but much more mellow in my old age.”
I guess I knew he could be a pain in the ass. Found that out a few times over the years, when he borrowed my car in Rico … and when he left me stranded in Granny’s Fiesta in a parking lot at Fort Lewis … But he’d been there too, the times I needed it.
“You need to come down for Escalante Days. Should be a blast. Other than that, life is good. Been a good year. You know, you have bad ones too. When mom died and then both my dogs in one month, I was at the end … wouldn’t have cared if I went … but then came my new dog Jazzy … then my wife … God gives us challenges and you take them on or quit. So far, I’m still taken them on.”
When the sun finally falls on the lake in the morning, it sometimes kicks up a steam, fog or a mist. I like the layers of light, and if the water is clear, I can see deep into the flow, to the bottom, even the movement of fish there. I smell the willows, over near the bank, and see the bright green feathers of moss. When the conditions are right, we pull good sized Cutthroat out of there in the twilight of morning or evening. The place can be counted on, if you wanted trout for breakfast.
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Please click on the following to view related posts:

Part 1: As I wander about seeking.



Sunday, April 4, 2010

Bear begins the eternal hunt once more

Part 2
The Micmac Indians of Nova Scotia and the Iroquois along the St. Lawrence Seaway share one story about the Big Bear. The quadrangle of the dipper represents a bear that is pursued by seven hunters; the three closest are the handle of the dipper. As autumn approaches, the four farthest hunters dip below the horizon and abandon the hunt, leaving the closest three hunters to chase the bear. The hunters are all named after birds. The closest hunter to the bear is named Robin, the second closest is Chickadee, and the third is Moose Bird. Chickadee is carrying a pot in which the bear will be cooked. As the bear attempts to stand up on two legs, Robin wounds the bear with an arrow. The wounded bear sprays blood on Robin, who shakes himself and in the process colors the leaves of the forest red; some blood stains Robin and he is henceforth called Robin Redbreast. The bear is eaten, and the skeleton remains traveling through the sky on its back in the winter. During the following spring a new bear leaves the den and the eternal hunt begins once more. __ From the Myths of Ursa Major


On Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Carl Rice wrote:
Rob, It was so good to see all you guys at the Dolores game. You all hold such a dear spot in my heart. I talked Scott the other night at about 1 in the morning and he said he had talked to you. He always calls at about that time. I want to keep in touch with you so please write.
Coach

From: Rob Carrigan
To: Carl Rice
Date: Tuesday, January 6, 2004

Coach:
It was great to see you! We ran into many that weekend that I had not seen in nearly 25 years. Don’t get back there as often as we should. It was an interesting time warp.
I must be lucky. Usually it is only midnight when Scott calls me. Wanted to touch bases with you as well. Was hoping to ask philosophical and psychological questions about small-town group dynamics. Seriously, I have been trying to figure out why sometimes there is more “connection” with a place you visit for a few hours in November, than there is in a corporation in which you have slaved for eight years.
Maybe it is the slavery issue?
It is a pleasure to hear from you. Keep in touch.
___Rob

Carl Rice wrote:
Those are indeed interesting dynamics. If it is any consolation, it is the same for everyone. That time and That place are often marked by not only faces, but passion and change. Corporations are quite boring!

From: Rob Carrigan
To: Carl Rice
Date: Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Coach:
You are preaching to the choir on corporations. Generally, I have great passion for my family, community and what I do at work, but the corporation is one of the nagging details that we all imagine we could do without.
As a coach and teacher, you wield a lot of influence in that time and place. I think it was very positive my case specifically, and for the group in general. However, I still cuss you sometimes.
In that role, do you consciously construct strategy to get us (and others over the years) to do the right things? Or is it something, like maybe riding a bull or diving off a cliff, that is hard — but after doing enough times, you know it by feel? Whatever the case, I for one, appreciate the effort. Keep up the good work. Talk to you later. __Rob


From Carl Rice
To: Rob Carrigan
Date: Tuesday, January 13, 2004
I, at times cuss myself, as we all miscalculate or misfunction. Generally, I have no plan and have found that one would be ineffective. Too many variables! I wonder though, if we are all strung together by a universal ethic or model, I think one can recognize right and wrong, especially in each other. I have been blessed to do what I do. I realize I have touched a lot of people. Think how many you touch with your decisions. I realize that much of the time we concentrate on the monster, which is to me the far-removed machine. The truth is the struggle rages in the individual. Ethics doesn’t just happen. It is a practice.
See you, Carl

On 2/28/04 7:30 pm Rusty Hector wrote:
So I shouldn’t tell you the goat story:) You really wouldn’t write about that would you?

From: Rob Carrigan
To: Rusty Hector
Sent: Monday, March 1, 2004

What goat story? Sounds like a breakout chapter. ___ Rob

From: Rusty Hector
To: Rob Carrigan
Sent: Thursday, March 4, 2004

Really hard to articulate.

Lynn was always his own man. He knew where he was going in life and had been living the dream for some time before he passed on. He enjoyed the ride with passion. Saw humor in the simple things but did not miss the opportunity to impart “wisdom” when he felt it was appropriate.
He will always be with me. Experiences, conversations, moments. An important piece of the puzzle of our youth.
Are you thinking of an Animal House type format? Something you can make into a movie ;) Soliciting quotes? “Mel, two pockets on a shirt are not cool.”
Don’t forget the “pith/jungle” hat on his casket. That WAS Leavell! Pith-strength, as that of a leader.
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