UMATI AND HUMSA
I was born in the backwoods of North-eastern Ohio in 1933 along the banks of the beautiful Mahoning river. There used to be a place there called Sweetwater springs. A place where a wonderful outcrop of white limestone once stood. In the middle this limestone was a spring of water so cold and sweet, that it fairly fizzled in your mouth like soda pop. It was here overlooking that spring in a small temporary lodge that I was born.
My Great-Grandmother, whom everyone called Umati, was the mid-wife and she was assisted by my Great-Grandfather, Muxumsa, who I have always called Humsa. This in itself was unusual, for Umati seldom needed help at child births. But this case was different. Not just that the woman giving birth was their Granddaughter, but that she was having trouble delivering twins. The first child to be born was a big healthy looking boy, but unfortunitely he never drew breath in this world. The second child to come forth was also a boy, but he was tiny and blue. As Humsa drew him forth and held him upside down to shake breath into him, he looked down at the little blue scrotum and remarked, "Look a little blue turtle!" Thus I was named at my very first breath. As told.
It was my good fortune to have spent my first six years with those two remarkable people. Umati was a Clan Mother of the Unami, and she and Humsa were both fluent speakers of Lenape. Humsa was called Blue Crane, or Doc Crane by everyone. His real last name was Price, but I've only seen that on his headstone. I never called them anything else but Humsa and Umati, thus that is how they live in my heart now.
The little shanty town where we lived was an assemblege of many mixed Native American people. Although the houses were no more than tar paper shacks, each was a home, not only for those who lived there, but any who visited. No person was richer than the poorest or poorer than the richest. All had been brought together to survive those poor times of the depression. Our Elders were our teachers, our doctors and our clergymen. All shared whatever they had with one another and none knew need. Although there were many mixed nationalities, Scotch-Irish Lenape as myself, African-American, Mexican,Dutch, or English mixed with many of Native American stock, all were Native Americans. Each was brother, sister, aunt, or uncle to one another and the deepest respect was given to our Elders.
What of those Elders who guided us so thoughtfully then? They were of those who had willingly stayed behind upon the land that they loved. Their Parents and Grandparents had borne the persecutions and mistreatments to stay. And although today they are not on the federal or tribal registers, thus not recognized, they taught us, their grandchildren one of the greatest lessons in our lives. To stand tall, with eyes straight, and declare to the world. "I AM NATIVE AMERICAN!"
And regardless whether my children or grandchildren are one-eighth,one-sixty fourth, or even one-hundred twenty eighth, all shall be taught as I and those others in my childhood to stand tall and be proud of who you are.
Thus do I pay tribute to those great roots from which I sprang.Wanishi Umati and Humsa
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