The Book Tapes

Becaause my husband is visually impaired, he gets book tapes from the services for the blind, and so we often can be found listening to them by the hour. He concentrates, remembering every scene and turn of events. They range from the historical to the romantic, and sometimes we only listen for a chapter or two and then turn it off. We had one that chronicled the Civil War and fascinated us with the detail with which the battles and maneuvers were reported. My great-great-great grandfather, ( how many greats I would have to add up ) Levi Pettis, supposedly served in the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. Two of my Pettis uncles served in the Civil War and never came home again.
History has always been of great interest to me, but my knowledge of some areas of history is sadly lacking. We never studied the Indian wars, though the area where I grew up was famous for the battles that raged in the area. No mention was ever made in the history books. A casual walk would yield indian arrows and spear heads made of flint, and the fields often were littered with them after being newly plowed.
We had an interesting experience when we excavated under a little house we were renovating in California. First we found bones, then a couple of spear heads and then some clay marbles. There were numerous clam shells and pieces of obsidian. We kept the spear heads, but carefully and secretly buried the bones in another spot. Later I researched and found that the house was built on a shell mound, piled up there by Miwok indians. At one time thousands of Miwoks lived up and down the coast, but now not one full-blooded Miwok is alive today. I was fortunate enough to be able to study Indian History when I attended college and found the knowledge fascinating. It was a fun course. We took day trips and cooked acorn mush and fried fish over fires. Our teacher was a Pomo and Miwok, but had declared himself independent of the Bureau of Indian Affairs and had carved out a comfortable niche for himself.
Try as I do, I still haven't grasped how the BIA keeps such a hold on the members of the tribes. There they are, confined to reservations, poorly housed and clothed, mostly unemployed. Why don't they leave? What powerful force holds them there?
There! I did it again! I dredged up another unsolveable problem. It will be a good subject for a dream.