Sheron Wyant-Leonard - I Will: How Four American Indians Put Their Lives on the Line and Changed History

Copyright 2021 by Sheron Wyant-Leonard

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Erin Seaward-Hiatt

Cover photo credit: Getty Images

ISBN: 978-1-951627-76-8

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-951627-77-5

Printed in the United States of America

Four members of the American Indian Movement took a stand for Native Rights, and what happened next changed history forever. They were Dorothy Ninham, Herb Powless, Leonard Peltier, and Dennis Banks.

Some dialogue has been imagined to be consistent with events. Language and expressions are consistent with the periods depicted. Some of the names in the story have been changed to protect the guilty. This story was inspired by a series of interviews over more than two decades.

Contents

Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. Chief Seattle

PART ONE:
DETERMINED

PART TWO:
AND THEN THINGS GOT HEAVY

PART ONE

DETERMINED

CHAPTER 1

Leonard Peltier, Inmate #89637-132, Lompoc, California July 20, 1979

A garish light rotating between two guard towers reveals the tall chain-link fence, topped by razor wire, that encloses the main cell block. As the moon begins its rise over the Santa Ynez mountains, the suns last orange rays dip into the Pacific Ocean. At the main entrance of the prison, the squeaky new metal doors are sliding open, alerting the night staff to the changing guard. Rules govern the opening and closing of these doors: any outside visitor must be stamped and IDed, checked, and then stamped and IDed again. Then come the metal detectors.

Off in the yard, a gray stone tower stands in black sand like an ugly muted lighthouse. Its turning lights offer a glimpse of thick brushland beyond the fence. Oddly, no one is on watch as the giant mirrored spotlights move slowly across the complex and the grotesque shadows of late afternoon begin their dance. Light put in place to protect darkness.

Inmates can be seen closing up shops and padlocking doors, putting away rakes, farming tools, and other work implements with an exhausted air that says they are glad to see another evening arrive.

The sounds of preparation for the last meal of the day float across the yard from an open kitchen window. Voices lifted in an awkward harmony blend with the static of a rock hymn playing out of an old transistor radio. A truck bumps through the gates, carrying a bedload of prisoners. They are headed in from some farmers field where their labor has been rented out. One prisoner drives a tractor, others gather up wheelbarrows; none are attended by guards. At Lompoc, low security really means low security. That said, prison is still prison.

To the east lie the Coast Range and the fertile San Joaquin Valley with its Mediterranean weather, terrain to which Leonard Peltier, then age thirty-four, is no stranger. His dark good looks are owing to his Chippewa and Miniconjou ancestry. Like many other inmates, he is in top condition. Already gifted with speed, when not outside working hard, he runs up the ladder to his top bunk and back down again as fast as possible to train his muscles and equilibrium. What is he training for? What else but escape?

Looking through the prison bars to the east, Peltier hopes to be walking there one day, and not on work detail. This view becomes a prisoners best friend, a relative, a place to hope. The natural world renews his spirit, birds and invisible thunder beings take his prayers up to the sky. All are prayers for one thing: freedom. A young guard can be seen peering out to the same sand dunes looking just as lonesome, as his days are robbed by watching captured men.

Peltier has recently come to Lompoc from Americas highest-security prison, USP Marion in Illinois. Lompoc is luxurious after Marion, where containment units house men where they can barely walk nine feet, coffin size. He has been in the prison system since his capture in 1976, and in the spring of 79 he is utterly surprised to be sent to this relatively new prison. His attorney is the most surprised of all.

Almost every inmate and guard at Lompoc is aware that Leonard Peltier has managed a few impossible escapes before. Just four years prior, after a battle with federal agents on the Pine Ridge Reservation in which two FBI agents and an Indian friend were slain, Leonard, along with a dozen or so other Indians, outran 250 agents. They combed through all fifty states, and still he alone escaped and crossed into Canada. The FBI dont always get their man , the story often pointed out, and Peltiers legend grew by leaps and boundsmade a little better every time it was told.

Peltier had been wounded during his cross-country flight, and he could have hidden anywhere under Indian protection. Despite the price that could be paid for hiding him, many did so. He would call out a warning as he approached a new sitethe only decent thing to doYou know the trouble Im in? On some reservations, you could be fired from your job for just mentioning his name, but nevertheless he was usually greeted with Yes, yes! What took you so long to get here? Weve been waiting for you! Food, water, and blankets were left out in barns or at back doorsteps just in case he came by. The moccasin telegraph asked every day: did he make it? Is he still in the wind? How did he ever get away? Ceremonial prayers were lifted across the United States praying for Canada to hide him if he made it there.

When he was given asylum in Canada, the Native people there protected him and announced boldly, When it comes to Indians, we do not recognize these borders . Such boldness was born of the fact most Canadian Indians were still on their original land. They were Indian all the way and could harbor whomever they liked. But no real Indian stays away from home longboth Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse risked their lives when returning from Canada to their ancestral land in the States. It was both a weakness and a strength, depending on who was looking at it.

Peltier spent short stays at two other dreadful high-security prisons before being sent to Marion (known for its harshness as the end of the line). Then, mysteriously, he was up and transferred to Lompoc.

Leonard now soaks in the warm weather; it is just as much a relief as the low security after not having seen a sunset while inside Marions three stories of cement underground. He feels as if a large snake had swallowed him and then just up and decided to spit him back out. In California he could walk outside daily in the bracing sea air, but it is still prison. If his plans go right, he will soon be out of the system altogether.