Where There Is Smoke...

Around 6 a.m. this morning, smoke was seen rising on the horizon over the San Pasqual Indian Reservation in Southern California.

Calls began coming into the fire emergency center for Escondido, CA (northeast of San Diego). The officials assured the callers not to worry.

The tribe set fire to the home on the reservation early this morning as part of their cultural practice of destroying a deceased person's home and possessions to free the person's spirit from his possessions and thus, this earth.

My tribe had a similar practice. When someone died, the possessions and home for the entire family were destroyed by fire. The tribe built a new home for the survivors and replaced all the possessions lost.

It served the religious purpose of freeing the soul from possessions and the earth, as well as serving as an official mourning period after which the dead were not spoken of again. It had the added benefit of destroying any infectious disease that might have caused the death.

Fire is a sacred purifying agent in many tribal cultures. Even along the Trail of Tears, my ancestors kept the sacred fire burning that had burned since time immemorial. Somewhere in the nation, it still burns for our people.

Although most things were destroyed by fire, some personal possessions went to the grave with the person. Jewelry or other personal effects were often buried with the person. Some of the Moundbuilder mounds contain buried remains of tribal persons of note who were buried with an enormous number of jewelry, pearls and other things. Not everyone was buried on that grand a scale of course. The picture above is of a shell gorget from this period.

I made my grandmother, mother and aunt a traditional engraved shell and pearl necklace based on Moundbuilder designs. Both my grandmother and my aunt were buried with theirs. They liked that there was something made by someone who loved them, which was theirs alone and to accompany their body into the grave.

It is a concept strange to those outside of Indian Country. The idea of burying valuable objects with the dead seemed shockingly wasteful to thrifty Yankees.

But perhaps it is not as shocking to non-Indians anymore. My stepmother and I did the same thing for my non-Indian father. He was buried with his wedding ring, a watch I'd given him and a toy John Deere tractor, because he loved that brand of tractor the best. Somehow it seemed a fitting way to say goodbye.

My mother hopes the shock never fully goes away. When she wears her necklace and people compliment her about it, she tells them with an ornery twinkle in her eye, "You know, it was made to be buried with me when I die." She enjoys the shocked expressions of people as she laughs and explains it to them.

I can't imagine the shock of the callers this morning to hear that a home was destroyed on purpose and as part of a mourning ritual. They must be shaking their heads still.

But somewhere a San Pasqual man's spirit is smiling and rising, freed from this earth and all of its cares and woes.