"Saving the Land"...rooted by our ancestral heritage -- Photos now posted!!

I remember being told stories by my “Granny”, my mom’s mom, MY grandmother, that HER grandmother, my GREAT great grandmother, was the daughter of a tribal chief of the Lumbee Indian Tribe of eastern North Carolina, There is much controversy as to the authenticity of the Lumbee Tribe which may have formed from a conglomeration of early Native American tribes forced to leave their homes and relocate in the  southern coastal regions of the Carolinas when European settlers came to this country in the 1600 and 1700’s.  The Lumbees may have had roots traceable to the “Lost Colony” of Croations, which was never found near Roanoke Island.  There is little evidence or written record to tie them to a specific location and culture…Native American men and women were sometimes ‘adopted’ into the society of European settlers in the East; perhaps, they may have been protected and/or immersed in European ways and cultural nuisances, making them less subject to the persecution by some settlers that took place, pushed Native tribes from their lands or massacred entire populations of native villages.   They may also have hidden “in plain sight”, women intermarried with whites willfully (or not), men working and adapting to the onslaught of a New World colonization they could do nothing to stop.

I know, even as a child living in North Carolina in the 1950’s-1960’s, it was far worse to identify with Native American, “Indian”, heritage than to suggest having Black or Negro ancestors.  With the Civil Rights movement so volatile during that time, it was yet unfathomable to mention “Indian” relatives or friends.  Integration in schools meant integration of Black or Negro children, NOT “Indian”, whether by plan or decree.  That no one came forward and would admit to Lumbee heritage - or so much as ascribed to Native American heritage - during those years does not surprise me.  I remember the term ‘savage’ being used by other children in school to describe the Indian children who went to their own school in our county!  I do not know and cannot say whether the attempt to teach these children about their tribal heritage was the purpose of the schools, and whether they should have been integrated, but I knew “Indian” kids who were treated poorly, lost ‘in the shuffle’, harassed and shunned!  It makes me shudder to this day.  Fortunately, my parents brought us up to believe all peoples of all races or creeds, color or class were to be respected, equally valued, and free…

In fact, it is that perspective, that “ALL PEOPLES ARE THE SAME”, that my parents and my grandmother, Granny Grantham, instilled in me back then. I believe that we all are in essence, “Nature, Native, and Free”. My connection to my grandmother’s grandmother being, in fact, Native American (“Indian”) roots me ancestrally to THE LAND, TO NATURE, AND TO MOTHER EARTH. Granny showed me a photo of this woman of Native American heritage that was my Great Great Grandmother when I was a child. It was hidden in a box in her bedroom closet, not in a scrapbook like many of her photographs, and definitely not hung on the wall for everyone to see. But, I remember it well—this little “Indian” girl dressed in full regalia standing with her father, the tribal chief. The photo is nowhere to be found now, and there is no one left for me to ask about it or her. It was and is still TABOO to talk of “Indian” ancestors in some families in the South. I just know that Granny said I reminded her of her grandmother and that has stayed with me. I identify so strongly with the Native American way of life and connectedness to all things of Nature and all Beings. (I had a tipi on the farm for many years and slept there most often, my dogs with me, sometimes my husband as well, that is, unless the nights dropped below 40 and we all went back to the house! I had no heat most nights, and as our climate warms and our snows are diminished, I was and am not comfortable with burning a fire inside or outside near our woods and forest lands.) I could easily live in a teepee in the woods, however, and sleep on a bed of moss under the stars and watch the Moon float across the sky at nights, looking to the Spirits of my Ancestors and Celestial Relations to protect and guide me on my journey in this life! (It is ‘My Mountain Man Mate and Husband’ that keeps me grounded and civilized, however, and I do sleep inside—most nights, anyway! I will admit that as I age, those nighttime temperatures in the LOW 40’s are a bit much for me and I relish the warmth of a fire in the woodstove and my husband’s warm body in bed. The dogs are quite happy to sleep inside by the woodstove, too!)

The top photo was taken in 2009 when I recoated my rather plain tipi (which we erected in 2006). I painted it with mountains, ‘rainbow’ sheep, Highland cattle, Mother Earth Turtle, and the “Red Dog” horse. I will add a full picture of the painted Turtle on the backside when I find it. In 2014 my tipi was wiped out by a derecho with a wind force >60 mph and more than half the poles were destroyed. The poles had been cut and hand hewn from pines on the farm, irreplaceable and impossible to redo or have alternate ones shipped from Canada. (I replaced it with the TARDIS on the hill behind the house - for those who know what the TARDIS is and for those who don’t - that’s another story in the making.) That’s Annie you see in the tipi at night in the second photo making her bed for the night.

So, my husband’s “Mountain Man” persona is the real deal, and quite understandably so, if you lookat his heritage. Bev’s family on both sides have been in this West Virginia/Virginia Shenandoah Mountain area since the 1700’s. His roots are deeply connected to the land and to hunting and survival and stewardship. His ancestry as best we know derives from the English who settled here prior to and as a result of the Revolutionary War. His grandfathers and their grandfathers all farmed and/or logged virgin forests to support their families—that was all they had or knew; I loved hearing his Yankey Grandfather, ‘Pappy’, tell stories of the time he worked sawing and hauling logs with mules across the Allegheny Mountains here in West Virginia during the 1930’s—prior to WWII. He would walk to Cass, West Virginia, across three mountain ranges, work several weeks, and then walk back home!! Bev is natured much like him, although I don’t imagine he’d desire that commute on foot or horseback, despite driving 25 miles to New Market, Virginia, daily for 40 years 4 days a week. Bev’s great sense of humor, gentle nature, and ‘Salt-of-the-Earth’ man-husband, attitude—his DOWN TO EARTH, magnetic, pure of heart presence that attracts everyone to him, that excites children when they hear the stories he creates ‘in the moment’, that draws animals to him whether domesticated or wild—makes me ever more grateful to have him as a partner in this journey. We both are committed to the stewardship of this farm and this land, and to the critters with whom we share what we have

been given.

This photo was taken at the back of our garden just last week of Bev checking out either a Native Bee or a Monarch Butterfly on

the remnants of a way too tall left over Zinnia (mid October 2025). The sunflowers in the background grew 12’ or more this year

despite it’s being so dry. There simply wasn’t a lot of ‘food’ for the wee insects this fall during migration. We were grateful to have left thistles and zinnias and grasses not mowed for their journey south for the winter.

It is no wonder that I am at heart a ‘conservationist’ and a ‘rebel’, a savage, perhaps, some

might even say—dedicated to “saving our lands”—preserving and protecting the natural

resources provided by our Mother Earth, untethered by the demands of either industry or

mainstream agriculture, more in tune with creating harmony and balance among all things,

restoring habitat, etc. In essence, LIVING BY EXAMPLE that the heritage of our indigenous

peoples is respected and not lost and that MOTHER EARTH has a fighting chance to keep us

from destroying ourselves.

These are the poles we cut from pines on the farm and I hand hewn with my father's old draw knife and coated with linseed oil and terpentine to weather proof them for the original tipi. They were most definitely irreplacable! Living By Example....that I might inspire others!