Winnebagos mourn Whitewater (fwd)

[Phil CashCash]

Winnebagos mourn Whitewater

By Michele Linck, Journal staff writer
http://www.siouxcityjournal.com/articles/2003/10/08/news/regional/27dfd9853bca379186256db900197c50.txt

WINNEBAGO, Neb. -- The Winnebago Tribe is mourning the death of a
beloved elder today, but also remembering the legacy he left for them
to carry on.

Stanford Whitewater Sr., 90, died Sunday at his home in Winnebago, which
he shared with his wife of 66 years, Marie Wolf Whitewater.

After earning his living as a farmer and working for the Burlington
Northern Railroad, Whitewater dedicated his final years to teaching and
preserving Ho-Chunk, the tribe's native language, and its culture.

It was a passion that had always been close to his heart, three of his
daughters recalled Tuesday. They are among 11 children born to the
Whitewaters. Nine survive. They spoke at the Blackhawk Community Center
here, where their father's body lay in state, attended by five
generations of the family and many members of the community who had
come to pay respects.

"The older kids grew up speaking Ho-Chunk," Thelma Whitewater
remembered.

"I guess we weren't into learning it when he wanted to teach it," said
daughter Gloria Sheridan. "He always tried to teach us. Like a lot of
people, we didn't care about it until it was almost gone. We aren't the
only ones. They say there are only 20 people left who speak it."

Marie Whitewater, 84, noted that both Stanford and herself had gone to
government-run Indian schools where they were forced to learn and speak
English and were punished for "talking Indian." Perhaps that explained
his dedication for preserving his native tongue.

Whitewater taught Ho-Chunk any place he could, but more formally at
Little Priest Tribal College for more than 10 years, until his health
failed. In the last few years, he held class in his home three times a
week, with students gathered at the kitchen table.

"He had one student who came back to learn the language," Sheridan said.
"In four years, he turned her into a fluent speaker. He's gone now, but
she's going to carry it on."

That student was Elaine Rice. Like Whitewater, Rice became a Ho-Chunk
instructor at the tribal college. She has recently left to be an
instructor in a new language and culture program, the Winnebago
Renaissance Project. Just two years old, it has a staff of 17,
including two VISTA volunteers.

Rice said she feels the same urgency as Whitewater to preserve Ho-Chunk.
"He kept the language alive in the academic community," said Rice, who
had studied under Whitewater since 1995. "He was one of the few who was
willing to teach it in a formal setting."

Along with teaching youngsters the language, the project is building on
the 2,700 audio tapes of Ho-Chunk words and lessons recorded by
Whitewater while teaching at Little Priest.

"He never gave up," Sheridan said. "He said it was real important, that
everything we do has to do with our language."

His family remembers a 'simple man'

Marie Whitewater remembered her husband as a man of peace and a
spiritual leader in the community. He woke daily before dawn and went
outside the house to pray, in the tradition way. The last time he was
able to walk, he went outside for prayer and built a ceremonial fire.
Even on his sickbed, people came to him for spiritual guidance, Thelma
Whitewater said.

The daughters recalled Whitewater's love of the land and acute
observations of the natural world. Even after he no longer farmed, he
kept a garden. Until a year ago he would still drive his tractor. And
until a few years ago, he would go get the mail and run back up the
driveway. Even a year ago, he was still doing traditional dancing at
powwows.

Sheridan remembered her father as such a good storyteller, that a friend
dropping by his house on a brief errand once found he was still there
five hours later. Naturally he stayed for dinner.

Another time, she said, Morman missionaries dropped by. Whitewater, who
spear-fished for carp, told them he was going fishing, but they could
come along and talk to him. Pretty soon, they were all standing in deep
water, white shirts and all.

Stanford Whitewater was also a musician. He played saxophone, drums and
harmonica. One time during the big band era he and his band were
performing in North Sioux City while Lawrence Welk was also in town,
they said.

Whitewater was 'Eagle Man'

The caption beneath a photo of Whitewater displayed near his casket
among some awards and flowers, reads "Caxsep-ga." It is his name in
Ho-Chunk and means "Eagle Man."

Beside it is the honorary degree of Doctorate of Humane Letters,
bestowed upon him by Little Priest Tribal College during the tribe's
annual powwow in July. The community now refers to him as Dr.
Whitewater. The college had named a scholarship after him in March.

Whitewater was named 1996 Elder of the Year by the National Indian
Education Association, an award presented to him in a ceremony in Rapid
City, S.D.

Whitewater was the father of 11 children, grandfather to 50,
great-grandfather to 99 and great-great-grandfather to seven, with five
more great-great grandbabies expected to be born soon.

In the traditional way, the family planned to stay up all night Tuesday,
playing "moccasin games" and remembering Whitewater. Then, the
daughters will perform a ritual, putting new clothes on their mother
and combing her hair, a sign she is a "free woman."

Whitewater's funeral will be Thursday.