Children and parents crying in each other’s arms. The government man drove us to a parking lot with a long line of buses at the Belcourt high school. So I guess I am not surprised that at 77 and still locked up, it is the same for me now. I found out in boarding school I had no rights. I was treated very badly by the people in that school, but it made me stronger. Little did I know that those school years would condition me well. Maybe that day was my introduction to this destiny I did not choose. I know I was just a little kid, but I just felt so helpless. Do not let anyone harm them,” Grandma told me before the government man took us away. So I watched as Grandma packed the few clothes we had and put them in a small bundle. I was 9 years old, but I was afraid if I said anything or tried to run, the government man would take my grandma and put her in jail. She cried out, but he told her she would be jailed if she tried to interfere. She started to cry and pleaded with him not to take us. The government man told us he was taking us away to a boarding school because my grandma could not take care of us. But she finally understood that he came to take us away. Grandma could not understand much of what he said, and no other adult was there. A man stepped out of a 1952 Chevy Fleetline. This shiny car drove up the hill and stopped in front of our house. We were always prepared to run and hide in the woods.īut then one day, I forgot to run and hide and the girls were hiding in the house. Indian cars were old and made a lot of noise so we heard them coming. So we - my grandma and my sisters and I - watched for new cars from the top of the hill. I was old enough to know what happened when the government took you away. Now, we had to worry about the BIA agents coming to take us away. As it turned out, that made things much worse for us. Even now, that sad memory comes back to me as I lay in my bunk at night in a federal penitentiary.Ībout a year after my grandpa died, my grandma had to go to the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) to beg for help for her and me, my sister Betty Ann and cousin Pauline. I will never forget watching him die from the foot of his bed. But then he got pneumonia and did not survive. EERIE REZ STORIES HOW TOHe was a good and kind man and he was my mentor and knew how to live off the land. When I lost my grandfather in 1952, life changed forever. I was taken to Wahpeton Indian School, an Indian boarding school, in Wahpeton, North Dakota when I was nine years old and did not leave until I was 12. I am a member of the Turtle Mountain Chippewa tribe. My name is Leonard Peltier and I am 77 years old. Its authenticity was confirmed by Peltier's attorney, Kevin Sharp. Editor’s Note: This first-person account from Leonard Peltier about his experiences at the Wahpeton Indian School from 1952 to 1955 was sent to Native News Online by one of his longtime advisers.
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