At breakfast we met the Walker family, siblings who had gathered from Arizona, Kansas, Vancouver and elsewhere for a reunion. They were a fun bunch, the lanky men and live wire sister Priscilla. I struck up a conversation with Freda Arlene, who had lived in Tallaquah with her husband a long time. I noticed her hand was shaking as she snapped some photos. Later she told me she had just been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, but for the moment, she was enjoying all the Walker in-laws jabbering and joking and what would be their 45th wedding anniversary the next day. Here’s a warm wish for the health of whole The Walker Bunch. May you have many more reunions, and to Freda, good luck and sincere wishes that you live a long and happy life. I think you have a quietly glowing halo protecting you.
The sun shone brightly as we returned to the Cherokee Heritage Center. I spent a little time with the Center’s genealogist, who gave me some basic information and suggestions how to research my possible Cherokee heritage.
Next we did the Ancient Village tour, led by a Cherokee guide, a young woman born and bred in Tallaquah. The village was a series of typical homes, built with branches, then covered with mud and wattle, earth floors, simple doors and windows. Our guide explained that each family had a summer and winter home opposite each other and a small hut-like building for curing or storing food. These looked more like a rectangular or boxy version of the Navajo round hogan, nothing like a teepee except for the opening in the ceiling for smoke. Adjacent to the Ancient Village was a more modern settlement with early 19th century buildings: a church, school, three examples of homes, blacksmithy, and more. It all looked similar to any early American town, except the church singing was in Cherokee, and each building had English and Cherokee explanations.
As interesting as it was, the Cherokee connection hadn’t happened for me. I returned to the art exhibit, looked at the basket again and decided to buy it. Nope, already sold. Somehow that seemed to be a sign for things Cherokee: not now, maybe later.
We drove into Tallaquah town, on the hunt for turquoise jewelry. We found a small jewelry shop where the owner and manager make custom pieces. The manager/designer let us look through many, many envelopes of different kinds of turquoise, in many sizes. Anna found two unique greenish turquoise stones to make a pair of earrings. A wonderful way to buy a special piece of jewelry.
Tallaquah faded away through the rear-view window as we drove northwest to Tulsa.