Of Native American Shaman, Red Hawks & the Mineral Waters of Lithia Springs

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The land and waters of Lithia Springs hold a special place in local Native American lore.  Prior to Europeans coming, all the tribes in the area shared the hot springs for bathing and medicinal purposes.  However, for natives to be welcome at the Springs, all tribal differences were to be left outside as they shared what they considered to be "sacred waters" and "Common Grounds".

        In 1988, tired of retirement, I began thinking of following an old dream of mine and my daughter's, that of building an Inn on these special grounds. 

        With that thought in mind, I approached a local Native American I knew, asking if anyone was left from the local tribes, and did they have any thought or input on my idea.   He agreed to ask around. 

        After a time, I was told that there were none of the original tribes left, but that he had found other tribes from a larger area who had agreed to send representatives.   They proposed a ceremony where the "Grand Father" of the land would be called in to tell of his own plan for the land. 

       I was then told that the Native Americans believe there a "Grand Father Spirit of the Land" watching over all sacred places.  These Native Americans were to represent all the tribes of the earth in a blessing ceremony, asking to consult with the Grand Father Spirit of this place.   A time was set, and I was asked to bring a container of water from the hot springs, and any harvest which might have originally grown on the land.

      On the appointed day, an old chief, his son, grandson and 5 others showed up from various places.  At that time, the land was covered with nothing but wild blackberry vines and Bull Thistles and there wasn't a tree on the property for us to sit under.  I felt humbled, perhaps a little embarrassed, wondering what these people would think of my modest plans on land which, over the years had been stripped of it native trees and most of it's grasses.  Since I wasn't of their race or culture and some had traveled from as far away as Montana, I hoped they wouldn't be disappointed or angry for being drawn here.

       However, they greeted me warmly and we found a small clearing of what appeared to be native grass surrounded by black berries and thistles in which to hold The Ceremony.  In retrospect, i often wish I had had the foresight to have brought a camera, or at least a note book.  But, I suppose it was as it was meant to be.

      We all arranged our selves in a small circle as soft drumming began. Ceremonial Pipes were lit, smoke was blown to the four corners of the wind by a young chief.  Then handing the pipe to his son to pass around the circle, the young chief began to do a soft rhythmic dance to the quiet throb of drum now beginning to softly add their voice.  Occasionally the Chief would stop and consult with an elder Chief sitting in the circle.  After one of these pauses, the young Chief turned to me and asked for the water from the hot springs.   But when I picked up the bottle... it was empty! The bottom had broken cleanly away as if cut with a sharp knife. The young chief met the eyes of his elder, neither of them showing any surprise as the young Chief said, "the spiders have come."  Then turning to his grandson, he continued "You have witnessed a legend born." Then after a time of drumming, the elder Chief quietly, in a mater of fact way, said "It's time to call in the red hawks."

        Now, I have lived long enough to know that much unseen and unverifiable exists just beyond our awareness. However, what happened next I will not soon forget. Within minutes, 3 beautiful Red Tail Hawks were gracefully circling above us, and I began to feel a warm sensation flowing upward from the very pit of my stomach.   

        After a pause, the Elder said, "It is time to call in the Grandfather of the Land," which brought a soft murmur from the circle, and the Elder Chief began to rock back and forth and in a few minutes appeared to go into some sort of trance.  It was about this time,  a warmth began coming from the pit of my stomach, spreading throughout my body and tears started to slip down my cheeks.    

       After more time of light drumming had passed, the old chief finally opened his eyes.  He sat there quietly for a while and then finally said in a quiet voice, "What this man is planning is good and in accordance with the will of The Grandfather of The Land", and it should be encouraged and supported by all men".  Then he just sat their quietly as did we.  Then after a while the drumming began to slow and deep quite came over the small group.  Tears were now flooding down my cheeks, and the deep warmth had spread throughout my body. There were other tears in other eyes, as the ceremonial objects were collect and quietly put away.        And then it was over, and they all quietly got up, and after a few words of encouragement, left.

       I never say any the ones from out of the area, and soon lost track of even the local one.  But, as the Inn progressed I have wanted to invite them back, but I don't know how to contact them.  However, there is a part of me that knows that some quiet afternoon when the time is right, some of them will walk in unannounced, to see what time time has brought to their land.  Perhaps they'll call in the red hawks once again.  And if they do, you all will be invited.

 

By Duane Smith,  just as remembered it.

 

 

The Ceremony above, took place in the open space behind the cluster of cottages now on the left, below. 

These are the cottages we are now making available to a special few.