"In life we constantly experience death. In death, we experience life. The two are interwoven into the pattern of creation. It is this pattern we perceive to be 'God'. The breath of the Creator, mixed with our own, forms the warp and woof of the two interpenetrating realities."
Scott Preston, Navajo Nation Vice-Chairman (1955-63)
I can recall being 10-years old, at Ellis Perry Trading Post (Gallup, NM), and my grandmother pointing up at a mural high up on the wall of Navajo men and saying to me, "that's where you come from". Painted on the wall was a man I had never seen before, but he looked very similar to my mom's dad - underneath, it read "Scott Preston".
I grew up, knowing I was special. My mom told me the stories her parents told her, about coming from a long line of well-doing Preston men. My great-great-great grandfather Samuel Preston was an Irish man who had started various trading posts on the Navajo Reservation, including the Tuba City Trading Post, in which I grew up near. His son was Scott Preston, whom worked in tribal politics. Scott's son Jimmie Preston was a Navajo Code Talker during WWII and was married to my great-grandmother Sally K. Preston. These were the basics I was given. It wasn't a whole lot of information but it was sufficient enough to be proud that my last name was Preston.
All my great-grandfathers on my Preston side of the family had all passed on before I was born. My great-grandmother Sally was a big part of my life, she is still alive today, but as far as I knew, she was the head of our family. She talked about my great-grandpa Jimmie from time to time, mainly about his service in the war. I think those memories of her were the peak of the time they spent together. He died of carbon-monoxide poisoning in council chambers one cold winter night. As I previously mentioned, she was the head of my family growing up. I think that's how the switch of power came along. Somewhere along the way, the women in my family started to be the head of each Preston household. It's expected that a woman be the head of any Navajo family, but up until a certain point in our family blood-line, I had never heard anything of a Preston woman prior to my Grandma Preston. I find it funny that still till this day that the mothers of all my great-grandfathers, remain unknown. Maybe that will be the next thing I research.
Last night I was digging around on the internet, and was brought to tears after two hours of reading the words of my great-great-grandfather, Scott Preston. By the time I was finished, I had ordered a handful of books that he had been quoted in, on issues such as Navajo medicine, religion, politics, and education. I was/am left inspired.
In my research, I also learned that Peterson Zah (Navajo Nation Chairman 1983-87) was the nephew of my late great-great-grandfather Scott Preston. However, despite my high hopes, there wasn't much written about Scott's father Samuel Preston. Maybe those kind of records from the 1800's are archived somewhere? I was most interested in finding a photograph of Samuel, that I know I've seen as a child. In the photograph, he's in an old fashioned car. Apparently, according to the book I had once seen the photograph in, Samuel owned the first automobile on the Navajo Reservation. In the book, there were stories about how awesome and friendly of a man Samuel was -letting everyone and anyone ride in his car. I really wish I could see that picture again. Anyhow, in my research last night, I did read more about his dealings with various trading posts across the Navajo Reservation. Shortly after he came to Arizona in the late 1800's; he, along side with his best friend C.J. Babbitt, had three trading posts by 1903. There wasn't any other information that I could find about these trading posts, other than the one in Tuba City, AZ.
I believe Samuel, did run the trading post in Cameron, AZ. My best friend recently told me that, while telling her her great-grandfather about my family name, he turned out to have known Samuel. At first, my friend and I thought he might have been talking about my other great-great-grandfather (Sally Preston's father) "Many Whiskers". However, he had mentioned that the grandfather he was talking about was a white anglo man :) Therefore, we figured it had to be Samuel. Apparently, my friend's great-grandfather used to work for Samuel at that trading post in Cameron. He told my friend how Samuel had sent him to San Francisco, CA and such, on business for the trading post. He had a few stories about Samuel, and possibly has some about my other great-great-grandfather "Many Whiskers", as he did mention that name while telling my friend how he knew my family. My friend's grandfather is much older and needs to be cared for these days, I'd love to take a digital recorder down to his house in Moencopi, AZ and get his account of managing that trading post. Soon...
I'm a person that feels things don't happen on coincidence. I feel all things are meant to be, for some reason or another. I've really come to that truth these past few years. I've come into contact with people that will forever be part of my life. For example, my best friend Maria. I've pretty much grown up near her my entire life - knew of her, but never befriended her until just recently in the past two years. Imagine my amazement as she told me her great-grandfather knew my great-great-great-grandfather. My mom can't even tell me stories like that. Not to sound too hippie (haha), but the Universe aligns things so perfectly, bringing things/people to your path, for a reason.
Just recently, I met another girl in which I've befriended pretty quickly. I don't take on close friends like that quickly, but after being at a birthday for her son and meeting her in-laws, it makes sense as to why we've been put on the same path. Her husband's grandmother asked me who my family was and as always, I always just mention my great-grandmother Sally's name. I always expect to be related to someone, being Navajo and all ha! But, it's never a close relation - just by clan or something. This time, it turned out that this lady's dad and my Grandma Sally's dad are first cousins. My grandma later confirmed it. Anyhow, later in that conversation, my great-great-grandfather Scott Preston was brought up. He had been married to a lady in Ganado, AZ I guess, so the family at the birthday party had made that connection. I don't know much about that. Shortly after, Scott Preston as a tribal vice-chairman, became the topic of discussion. I heard how good of a man he was, how he had no "formal" education but held that political position as if he had, and how he brought the language (Navajo) back into the schools. I was proud to say I was a Preston in that moment, and it was amazing because it had been awhile since I had felt like that.
I remember several years ago, while living in California, I was at the dinner table with my partner at the time, his adopted brother and dad, and a pretty well known and respected man in the community. When I was introduced by partner's dad, he had mentioned who my grandfather (my mother's father) was. I got that nod of approval immediately. My grandfather was always great in my eyes. However, it was that night that I saw how others had looked at him. I was in an entirely different state, away from the reservation; yet, I was still being seen in a good light for being a Preston.
Yesterday, I went back to Tuba City, AZ for a quick visit. I took a quick photo of the Tuba City Trading Post with my iPhone. I've been looking at this photo since, it's what brought this all on - blog and all. This historical building represents home for me - always has. Although I visit often, I haven't lived in Tuba City since I was 8-years old - I'm what you would call an "Urban Indian" :) I went to visit my Grandma Sally, as I always do. She has a head cold but she is healthy. Her hearing and eye sight aren't as good as they used to be. I don't think any of us great-grandchildren know her exact age, but the last time I peeked at her driver's license (years and years ago), I'd have to say she's around 89 year-old now? It takes her a minute to recognize us but I think that's more due to her failing sight than her memory. My sister and I were laughing during this trip because my sister Mei-Lein was saying that Grandma NEVER fails to recognize her boyfriend, whom happens to be an Anglo guy, but has to zero in on our faces to recognize who we are :) Anyhow, I have the best conversations with her. I might have to scream for her to hear me but it's just as well. She's always in the loop with what I'm doing these days. We write each other often and she remains one of my biggest fans. Knowing that my great-grandmother approves of how I live my life, is the greatest motivation these days - for she is the epitome of a strong Navajo woman.
I'm 27 years old. I've had a job since I was almost 17 years old. I've always had good jobs in which I've worked hard to get. I continue to seek the knowledge taught in an accredited school, yet, I've taken it upon myself to learn where the real lessons are being handed out - and that's by truly living LIFE. I've lived in some of the biggest cities away from home (Arizona), traveled to many places, met people of all directions, and learned of and walked along side many indigenous tribes. I live my life right...
Just recently, I've tapped into my artistic abilities. An artistic eye for detail runs in my family as well, so I'm excited to relate on that level. I feel this was that missing piece to my well-being. I love to bead and paint. Just this year, I was accepted to showcase my beadwork at The Heard Museum Indian Market (Phoenix, AZ) this past March 2010. I'm currently submitting my work into other future art shows across the country. Life is good.
The concept of loving life, isn't far from the thought of where it all comes from. As I grow older, I see how important it is to know one's self - I believe this is the ultimate goal in life. That's all I can ever move towards. I have more digging to do, more stories to hear, and more people to meet, however, I'm so very thankful for the strong roots I was given. These roots prove that I am meant for greatness. I can never let the concept of defeat in, for it isn't in my blood. I am of great people and this is what I have to work with...
Be blessed...
