Elbys Onea Naiche Hugar was the last of her breed. In her crackling sweet voice that commanded attention, she told me that she was the last of her generation. All of her close family members had passed away, so she was the only one left.
238 people lost their lives that night, many of them Native Americans by reason of geography: most of them lived in what is now called the flood plain along the banks of Rapid Creek.
As we, the American public, hack through thickets of politically enhanced blogoshere-distributed demonstrations and debates about who we are, most of us overlook one factor: We started out as trespassers.