by: nina garciaAlternative House-Building Cookie-cutter houses are the norm lately—each house looks like the next in a drone of identicalness. Is it too much to ask for a unique home, and as a bonus, an environmentally friendly home? Not really, if you’re willing to put in a little effort. Plenty of information is available online, and many building contractors are now specializing in straw bale, trombe and insulated concrete form design.

“You have to look at price, you have to look at the land, what time of year you’re going to be building, and what kind of house design you’re looking at,” says Holly Jaleski, materials expert at Architectural and Environmental Associates (AEA). Do your research and speak to a qualified builder about what kind of house will fit you best.

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Exteriors

Here are a few of the building materials becoming popular:

Straw Bale

Building houses from bales of straw may seem like another one of those hippie tree-hugger ideas, but eco-friendly straw bale houses have great economic appeal as well. A straw bale house gives immediate returns on its investment by making heating bills almost nonexistent.

Pros

Straw bale gives R-33 insulation, which is much higher protection than the R-12 insulation of a regular wall. It will not rot as long as it is kept dry. Straw bale is fire resistant, and good stucco sealing will keep out the bugs.

Cons

Straw bale is very labor-intensive, which is why straw bale houses often become a community project. Some owners solve the labor issue by holding several wall-raising and stuccoing parties during the construction of their house.

Trombe

Trombe is a glazed, heavy wall made from sand block, concrete, stone, adobe or other materials that act as a solar mass to collect heat. The walls are built to face the sun and are painted with a dark, natural pigment that helps absorb heat.

Pros

Trombe walls greatly reduce heating bills, because they radiate infrared heat. The materials to make the walls are also fairly inexpensive.

Cons

If the trombe wall is exterior, it can lose heat during cool, overcast days. (Don’t worry, interior trombe walls don’t have this problem.)

Insulated Concrete Forms (ICFs)

The Insulating Concrete Forms Association’s bold mission statement is that ICFs will become the preferred building method in North America. Right now builders are finding use for ICFs in everything from single family homes to shopping malls. ICFs are forms made of foam insulation that are stacked in the shape of a house. The builders then fill the forms with concrete to create units that come in many different shapes and can interlock like Lego blocks. Forms can also be separate panels that are tied together.

Pros

According to the ICFA’s Web site, http://www.forms.org, ICFs can save you $200 a year in heating costs and $65 a year in air cooling in a 2000-square-foot house. ICFs are particularly good in basements, because they prevent heat loss into the ground. Concrete houses are known for withstanding hurricanes and other inclement weather much better than wood-frame homes.

Cons

Finding a building crew familiar with concrete forms might be a challenge. However, block stacking is easy to learn, and their light weight makes them more enjoyable to work with. ICFs also cost a little more initially than wood-frame materials depending on how skillful your builders are.

NAU junior Taylor Sizemore

uses a small chainsaw to cut

straw bales to fit around the

doorways on the south side of

Rob Trathnigg’s Flagstaff home.

Trathnigg will use passive solar

design on his house to heat it,

and straw bale insulation to

keep the heat in.

Right: Kristin Huisinga fills in

holes between bales of hay to

aid the stability and insulation

of the straw bale walls.

Interiors

Now that you have a working structure, what should you put inside?

Architectural and Environmental Associates started building green houses in Kansas in 1982. Now in Flagstaff, Ariz., the company specializes in energy-efficient solar and wind designs. However, AEA will provide whatever alternative and recycled building materials their clients desire. Here are some eco-friendly interior design ideas:

Earth plasters from clay or lime

AFM Safecoat paint and wood stain

Michele Bradley

Sara Estensen

[ living outside the norm ]

�

[ boundless ]

Walls

Nature’s Work furniture handcrafted from reclaimed, antique wood from old barns and houses.

Stained concrete

Cork and rubber flooring rescued from landfills

Recycled glass and porcelain flooring tiles

Kirei Board, engineered panel from Sorghum plant stalks

Natural fiber and wool rugs and carpet

Hardwood floors from recycled lumber or bamboo

Floors

Recycled glass and porcelain slabs

PaperStone surfaces made from recycled paper

Countertops

Furniture

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The F-Holes: Kings of the Psychedelic Surf Sludge

When northern Arizona musicians Jeremy Brougher and Chris Shelton joined forces, they tossed around the idea of starting a rockabilly band. It wasn’t going to be anything too serious—just a couple of guys playing the music they loved. But as fate would have it, their music caught on and the duo decided to turn it into something big. Once they added drummer Ben Harkleroad to the mix and booked a few local shows, the F-Holes were officially on their way.

Named for the F-holes found on a stand-up bass, the group plays what they have dubbed “Psychedelic Surf Sludge,” a cataclysmic blend of all different types of music. Some bandmates describe it as “punk rock with a stand-up bass,” while others simply say it’s music that will cause an amazingly good time.

“We want to be known for a fun show,” Harkleroad says. “We want to be entertaining, and have people thinking, ‘Man, we need to go see those guys in concert.’”

With a full-length CD due out this summer and a tour that will take the F-Holes across Texas, Oklahoma and Arizona, audiences will get a chance to see what these guys are really made of. To learn more about the F-Holes, visit their Web site at www.myspace.com/fholesband.

Blackfire: Powerful Music, Powerful Message

Over the years music has not only been used as a method of entertainment, but as a platform for social change, political commentary and a cultural voice. This is the case with Blackfire, a politically charged musical group consisting of two brothers and one sister from the Navajo Nation. Since 1989, this dynamic trio has toured the world using music as their way to tackle a variety of political and social issues facing Native Americans and other cultures today.

“Blackfire’s style comprises traditional Native American, punk rock and ‘Alter-Native’ with strong sociopolitical messages about government oppression, relocation of indigenous people, eco-cide, genocide, domestic violence and human rights,” says the group’s Web site.

Their sound is powerful, their lyrics are meaningful, and often, their rock beats are accompanied by the traditional sounds of the Native music they listened to while growing up.

The members of Blackfire live by a manifesto they created in 1988 that states the desire to maintain a cultural heritage while still “walking in this modern world.” The group not only produces music proclaiming their heritage but is also active in many local and national causes as well, such as the successful “Save the Peaks” campaign in northern Arizona.

In 2007, Blackfire will be releasing a new full-length album, as well as performing more shows across the U.S. For more information, visit their Web site at

www.blackfire.net.

Michelle Talsma Marcus Sabini

Jeneda Benally, bass player, has a laugh in

between songs at a Youth of the Peaks show at

the Hive in Flagstaff. Blackfire, consisting of two

brothers and one sister, released a double disc

called [Silence] Is A Weapon in May 2007.

Right: Chris Shelton, stand-up bass player for

the F-Holes, screams his guts out during a show.

[ syncopate ]

Marcus Sabini

� 10

The Contrast Medium: Dark Music and Good Times

When college-age musicians team up to start a band, it may take a while to secure a solid foundation. But once you have your team down, and if things work out right, the band is destined to become a group of close friends who enjoy all the perks of rock ‘n’ roll semi-fame. Luckily for northern Arizona band The Contrast Medium, things worked out quite nicely.

Comprised of five friends who play an eclectic mix of as many genres as they can think of, the group thrives on strong music, lyrics about everyday life and having a blast at every performance.

“Our music tends to be dark, so we make up for it by having an animated performance,” says vocalist Andrew Paffrath.

This summer the band will be taking the challenge to make a new musical path. They will be touring across Arizona, penning new lyrics and combining their talents to give them a new creative edge.

“This will be the first time we’re writing all together,” says guitarist Todd Frankenfield. “We’re blending all of our elements, bringing a lot to the table, and adding a lot more depth to everything we do.”

After the summer, the group hopes to put out a new CD that combines all their efforts, and to find more “converted Contrast fans” as they hit local airwaves with their revitalized sound.

To learn more about The Contrast Medium, visit their Web site at www.myspace.com/thecontrastmedium.

[ Syncopate

]The Indiens: Rapping About Life From Another Perspective

The Indiens, a hip-hop trio hailing from Colorado, have been gearing up to make a splash in the music scene. With their diverse background (all three are siblings hailing from the Lakota and Haitian cultures) and their goal of providing a positive voice for Native American youth, they have created a unique niche in the musical landscape of the Southwest.

“We want our audience to hear something new,” says rapper Arohed. “We want to pass on real knowledge; it’s not your average hip-hop. We were raised to be soldiers and we want to pass that strength on to Indian youth.”

With the release of their second album this May titled “Indian Gun” and a slew of upcoming talent shows and festivals, The Indiens hope to make 2007 a successful year full of great beats, newfound energy and a positive message that reaches the masses.

“We’re sending out a war cry,” says rapper J Frank. “Nothing violent at all—we just want to get Native peoples hyped up, to stand up and feel good, and represent the struggle.”

For more information on The Indiens, visit their Web site at www.indienshustle.com.

The Contrast Medium, (left to right) Todd Frankenfield, Nicholas Fern, Andrew Medium, Alec Kucala and

Cameron Price, are currently working on recording their second full-length album. Since 2005 they've released

two EPs and one fulllength album. They also invented the term "way lots," as in I love you way lots.

[ syncopate ]

J Frank (left) and Arohead of The Indiens are based

out of Colorado. Due to the fact that they both are half

Haitaian and half Native American, they bring a very

fresh perspective to hip-hop.

Marcus Sabini

11 12

T-Bows is a prime example of why not to judge a book by its cover. This historic restaurant is located just outside Flagstaff, Ariz. The first thought that probably comes to mind when people arrive is why there’s a restaurant all the way out here. About a hundred years ago, Native American tribes crossed the border in this area and used the building that’s now T-Bows as a trading post. In 1921 the building became T-bows 2 Bar 3 Historic Restaurant and is now owned by the brothers Ron and Steve T-Bow.

It took me a couple of minutes to get used to the rough outward appearance of a run-down wooden building, but I took a deep breath and walked through the heavy door with a sign on it marked “saloon.” Once inside I felt relieved at how clean and welcoming it was. The interior had character and was eclectically decorated, almost as if each chair and antique had its own story to tell.

To the right of the saloon is the restaurant, which is separated by a large square way. A sign above the square way read “there is only room for 42 people,” so even with a full house, there would still be an intimate setting. There are a lot of menu options (pizza, seafood, pasta, peach cobbler, chocolate cake, and so on) and almost all prices are around $10. I suggest getting the pizza; the cooks are not shy with the ingredients and there’s the perfect amount of sauce, so you definitely get your money’s worth.

Beside the menus was a hand-drawn map with directions to Grand Falls, which are on the Little Colorado River and are a good place to look for fossils. They are only a short drive from the restaurant. Despite being intimidated to enter, T-Bows proved to offer wonderful service, prices and atmosphere. I highly recommend it!

Rating:

Price: average of $10

Offers: breakfast, lunch, dinner, appetizers, cocktails, entertainment

5877 Leupp Road

Flagstaff, Arizona

928-714-0678

www.tbows.com

Steve Thibault, owner of T-Bows 2 Bar 3 Historic Restaurant, stands in the dining room of his restaurant on Leupp Road

outside of Flagstaff, Ariz. Thibault and his family have been in the restaurant business for more than 40 years and at their

current location for the past four years. For more information, visit http://www.t-bows2bar3.com/

Marcus Sabini

by: hannah ellens

[ t-bows historic restaurant and saloon ] [ down left dining ]

When you drive down Route 66 toward Holbrook, Ariz., you might need to slow down to take a look at an unexpected resting spot: a wigwam village surrounded by a collection of classic cars that comes seemingly out of nowhere. The village is actually a motel, simply dubbed “Wigwam Motel,” and is an internationally popular attraction that has been a part of the Route 66 fever since the 1930s.

Written by Michelle Talsma

A wigwam is reflected in a puddle left by a rare storm at the Wigwam Motel

located on historic Route 66 in Holbrook, Ariz. Of the seven original Wigwam

Villages throughout America, only three remain: Cave City, Ky., Rialto, Calif.

and this one in Holbrook. There are 15 wigwams, which were renovated in 1988,

available for rent.

1� 1�

[ Notable N

iche ]

Marcus Sabinni

Lexy Popa

Lexy Popa

The Southwest is nothing but desert

Verdict: Dig this one up

If you haven’t done much traveling in the Four Corners region, it’s easy to assume the

Southwest is an endless, dry, hot wasteland of sand. Despite the copious amount of

geographical information available on the Internet, many Americans are totally ignorant

about the dense forests and snow-topped mountains in northern Arizona and southern

Utah. National forests cover millions of acres in Arizona, Utah, New Mexico and Colorado,

and most of them welcome campers to pitch a tent. The Southwest’s high-elevation

resorts are brimming with skiers and snowboarders every winter as well. Ten Thousand

Waves, near Santa Fe, reports 225 inches of annual snowfall. Brian Head Resort, two

hours north of Kanab, Utah, receives more than 400 inches of annual snowfall.

Everyone wears turquoise

Verdict: Dig this one up

Turquoise jewelry is undeniably plentiful in Arizona and New Mexico. But Native

Americans don’t parade around the streets decorated in the green rock like hip-

hop stars sporting gold chains. Selling jewelry is an important part of the Native

American economy, and turquoise is prominent in Navajo designs. “It’s associated

with Navajo, because turquoise is seen as a sacred object for them,” says Michael

Vasquez, a professor of anthropology at Northern Arizona University. The Navajo

blend turquoise with silver and the Zuni incorporate coral and jet with turquoise

in their jewelry. The Hopi engrave silver with traditional symbols, called Hopi

overlay, but rarely use turquoise.

fossil

The Southwest is full of cowboys

Verdict: Bury this one—but not too deep

If the Southwest makes you think of cattle herding, whooping cowboys and

thundering hooves, you’ll be disappointed. Ranching was a mainstay of the economy

in northern Arizona as late as the 1930s, along with lumber and the railroad. Vasquez

says cowboys still exist, but you’ll have to look harder to find them. “There still are

cowboys, but not nearly as many,” Vasquez says. “This is a difficult place to make

a living as a rancher.” One place cowboys can be found is at the Babbitt Ranches in

northern Arizona. The ranches operate traditionally on 700,000 acres, with a full

yearly schedule of cattle herding, calf branding and fall roundup.

Mormons in Utah have many wives

Verdict: Dig this one up

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints published “The Manifesto” in

1890, proclaiming they had ceased involvement with polygamy. Nevertheless, the

Associated Press has reported that a few extreme sects of the LDS still practice

multiple marriages. Warren Jeffs is probably the most well-known of the “Mormon

fundamentalists.” He was on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list, captured in August

2006 and charged with felony sex crimes for underage marriage. But remember

that while polygamy figures prominently in the history of the Mormon Church,

most modern Mormon families stick with the usual one-wife-type marriage.

fossilfossils

fossils

fossil

fossil

15 1�

by: nina garcia

[ digging up delusions of the southwest ] [ fossils ]

1� 1�

9. In Boulder, Colorado it’s illegal to allow one’s pet

llama to graze on city property. It’s also against the

law to roll rocks on any public property...

In 1276, Mesa Verde, or, “Green Table” laughed in the face of its own name and embraced a drought which lasted for 24 years. The most un-green, barren climate drove Native Americans from the Coloradan mesa during the quarter century rain-strike.

Three-quarters of New Mexico’s roads are unpaved, but they don’t wash away because the climate is so dry.

It’s a second degree felony to cause a catastrophe in Utah.

There are more than 16,000 archaeological sites in the Four Corners region.

In Boulder, Colo. it’s illegal to allow one’s pet llama to graze on city property. Obviously, this law is used frequently.

The Samson family and the Shorthair family, Page, Ariz.

1� 20

The Four Corners is the only location in the United States where a person can place a limb in four states at the same time. This is pretty cool, but it’s not the only North American nation with a special intersection. “Oh Canada” also has her own Four Corners. Four political subdivisions intersect at a grand 3.3-foot aluminum obelisk where the territories Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Northwest Territories and Nunavut meet.

Every year a small high-altitude town in Arizona marks the largest turnout for the Tour de Fat, a celebration of beer and bicycles also hosted in big cities like Seattle and San Francisco. In 2006, Flagstaff downed 187 kegs of beer during the one day event—that’s enough lager for 967 goldfish to paddle around in their own private fishbowl.

Albuquerque fills with a lot of hot air annually. The city hosts the world's largest international hot air balloon fiesta each October.

New Mexico is home to only about 12 people per square mile. There are a lot more sheep and cows in the state.

[ quirky facts ] [ triangles are corners to

o ]

Naya, Boulder, Colo. Daria Gorbenko and Eric Chastang, Salt Lake City

Fred Perry and Valerie Perry, Oakland, Cailf. Leona Spiker and Dan Murphy, Delta, Colo.

Brewing 101 America s‘ Favorite BeverageWith a Homemade Twistby: Michelle TalsmaPhotos by: Sara Estensen

22

Malted barley, hops, water and yeast—when combined they create beer, one of the most popular alcoholic beverages worldwide. Available in as many tastes and flavors as its creators can think of, there’s no one right way to create or enjoy this well-known beverage. To prove this point, home brewers across the Four Corners region are continually pushing taste boundaries by mixing up their own brews.

All home brewing enthusiasts need are about three weeks, the ingredients, solid recipes, and the rest is a beer lover’s history. After getting the hang of it, many home brewers branch out into making their own recipes and homemade brands.

Rich McPherson, a home brewer from Flagstaff, Ariz., said he and his friends started making their homemade brews from recipes online, then expanded their horizons from there. So far they have created beers with names like: Nut Brown, Kissing Cousins Caramel, Amber Jo Amber, Red Rock Ale, Irish Red, Double-wide Wheat and Bolo Tie Blonde. Perhaps the more creative the name, the better the beer?

For those interested in exactly how home brewing enthusiasts create their signature tastes, visit www.bjcp.org, the Web site for the Beer Judge Certification Program and an information haven for home brewers.

2�

Rob Owens, an employee of the Home Brewers Outpost in Flagstaff, Ariz., holds a sample of a home brew called “Blonde Ale” up to the light to check its color and clarity.

Philip Culp laughs at the ‘trailer trash’ façade he and his friends have adapted to their brewing. (Also pictured, a mirror made by his neighbor and fellow brewer Matt Meier)

Previous page: Flagstaff’s Homebrewers Outpost sells all the ingredients needed to make a great brew, including Orange Blossom Honey and various grains (Two Row Barley, Wheat Malt, CaraPils and Honey Malt mixture pictured here)

Philip Culp, a home brewer from Flagstaff, siphons a brew kit beer called Blonde Ale from the carboy to the keg.

2�

Shonto Begay, a prominent Native American artist, came to help out on the mural one night. The mural was truly a community effort, as many local youths and artists contributed.

A brick building in downtown Flagstaff, Ariz. breaks free of dreary urban colors. Against a jewelry store wall, splashes of bright hues and sunny images project a message of love: “When you see only the dark know the light will soon return.”

Across the train tracks at a local restaurant, Café Ole, another wall is adorned with images depicting the earth’s cycle and the words, “They love everything about our culture except us.”

In Gallup, N.M., another wall stands with a vivid painting promoting social rights and positive change. Elsewhere, storefronts, sides, alleys, and public spaces are painted with pictures and messages to contribute beauty and inspiration to communities.

Public art has transformed cities around the world by placing ideas and values in public places to help educate communities and promote positive change.

“It can’t be one man.I feel much more confident

if a committeeof citizenswork with me.”

2� 2�

The art form blossomed in the mid-20th century as a means to educate the public on social and political issues. Today, the art form is practiced in countries all over the world by people of all ages.

Bee Sargent

Bee Sargent was born in the rich landscape of New Mexico, a place that has been the inspiration for much of her art. However, the Southwestern-born woman eventually found herself on the other side of the country in Massachusetts. During her time spent in the state, the lifelong artist began painting murals. Now Sargent finds herself back in the Southwest where she paints landscapes and works on murals during the winter. The murals typically require between three to five months to create.

“I started doing big socially responsible murals in 1993,” Sargent says.

Her first mural was entitled “A Wall of Respect for Women.” The mural depicts women from many different backgrounds and has bright brushstrokes. It features women working and reaching

out to one another through a series of images that are vivid and positive.

“I remember one little boy holding his mother’s hand saying, ‘Mummy, the yellow hurts my eyes,’” Sargent says, laughing.

This project was the first of Sargent’s 12 murals. However, the “Wall of Respect For Women” mural has deteriorated due to a leaky wall that had water damage.

“A mural can wear off, but if water gets to it, the mural peels immediately,” Sargent says.

Since creating this mural, Sargent has learned the most difficult aspect to creating murals is finding a good wall. She also notes that getting a good group of people behind the project is also very important.

“The main thing I believe about public art is that you must have a strong committee,” Sargent says. “It can’t be one man. I feel much more confident if a committee of citizens works with me.”

In order to carry out a mural, approximately $15,000 is needed. The money must be raised, and Sargent says public art needs support.

“When you have people’s support, the work you do has to be the work of the public,” Sargent says. “It has to represent the community.”

The mural, which was started Sept. 16 and finished

Sept. 20, attracted passers-by and onlookers interested

in watching the artists at work.

2� �0Marcus Sabini

After nearly finishing the mural, the three main artists stand silhouetted in front of their work. Joseph Stacey and Cy Wagoner worked together before on a mural in New Mexico and on the Salt River Reservation.

However, recently, Sargent has not had to raise the money for the last two murals due to more support.

“(Getting the money) is not the hard part, getting the wall and concept is,” Sargent says.

Sargent painted other murals in Massachusetts, including a wall for animals, John F. Kennedy, immigrants and a Women’s Community Cancer Project.

The Women’s Community Cancer Project is Sargent’s favorite mural thus far. It is located in Harvard Square in Cambridge, Mass. Her most recent mural is a piece on the environment and jobs directed toward building sustainability in Gallup, N.M.

“I am working on a series called ‘Work of the Heart, Work of Mind and Work of Strength,’” Sargent says.

The mural is a three-piece series that looks to jobs for 21st century youth to help undo the damage humans have inflicted upon the earth.

“I just feel like kids have so little to look forward to,” Sargent says. “I need to show these jobs are not to make more money, but to help the earth.”

The project is still underway but has been met with much praise by many Gallup residents, who have been working on ways to improve their community’s sustainability. Recently, New Mexico has included a course in high schools regarding sustainable economy for the environment.

According to Sargent’s Web site, “The committee proceeded to envision the exciting and picturesque jobs that would be needed to take care of the environment.”

The second part of the mural is set to be painted this year. The mural is going to be painted on the McKinley County Adult Detention Center. The mural will show jobs for the environment and the real people who do them. Some professions will include gardeners and members of the water board. Sargent says the next mural she wants to paint might be about uranium.

“I want to paint a mural about mining and how bad it is,” Sargent says. “I am still anti-nuclear, anti-uranium.”

Sargent says anyone can make murals happen.

“Get a committee, find a wall and make it into a public project,” Sargent says. “Welcome criticism; have humility about public art.”

Louis Buchetto

In downtown Flagstaff, a gallery is brightly painted, letting off a welcoming aura to all who pass its doors. The gallery is unique because not only is it run by local artist Louis Buchetto, but it is also run by his 6-year-old daughter,

who came to him one day with an idea for a piece he had been working on.

“I began 14 years ago at the age of 32,” Buchetto says. “I’d always wanted to create art more than anything but held back because I couldn’t find the comfort and confidence and making a serious move.”

According to Buchetto’s Web site, his first mural was part of the “A Loving Home” series, which was the first time he and his daughter collaborated. Buchetto’s daughter Tirza came to him with an idea for the series.

“Dada, you have to make a strawberry piece, and this is what it has to say,” Tirza said. “‘Strawberries are made of love and so is Grandma, Grandpa, Mama, Dada...”

Tirza reeled off a list of names of people who were made of love, and Buchetto was astounded. He loved the idea.

“OK,” he said. ‘Tonight, we’ll sit and work out the details.”

Buchetto and Tirza sketched their ideas that night, and the partnership has since created more than 15 other pieces of art.

“My first exterior mural was the one on Leroux Street in Flagstaff; until that one I’ve done many interior murals, some as nearly as large as this one,” Buchetto says.

The mural reads, “When you see only the dark know the light will soon return.”

The mural was finished in 2004 and was preceded by a reception where community members painted flowers below the mural. Members of the community who donated to the project to keep the piece of art cost-free made the mural possible. Buchetto believes murals are important to communities.

“(It is based on) the philosophy of needing bread and (having) shelter, but also having the beautiful things in life too, like roses,” Wagoner says.

Bread and Roses promotes a positive environment where art is a key component. Though the group is relatively new, projects like community gardens are in progress. In the meantime, Wagoner hopes to be able to continue doing murals using a variety of art techniques. He wants Bread and Roses to be a way for youth to express their messages in a fresh way.

“I get the attitude that murals are not a necessity, and there is no need...(that) motivates me even more,” Wagoner says.

He hopes to continue his work and make art that everyone in a community can witness.

“Everybody’s creative in some way,” Wagoner says.

Art As Unifier

As the Southwest’s environment continues to change and face challenges like water supply and habitat destruction, these artists hope to promote positive messages and images as beautiful as the colors that swish around the desert landscapes. Through public art, these communities are enlightened and beautified by artists that seek to promote social responsibility and add an additional sense of beauty to a place so diverse.

“There is a lifestylethat is being diluted.

Through art and muralsI want to put those

stories onto spaces.”

�1 �2Marcus Sabini

“In general (they add) beauty and an opportunity to just slow down a bit and be in the moment,” Buchetto said.

Buchetto said many things inspire him to create his art. Public art has the potential to affect communities in a multitude of ways. However, the art’s main focus is usually to inspire and educate the community about the world around them.

“People (inspire me), just seeing how amazing this world is when people work in harmony with each other and have the interests of the community in mind just makes me want to be a contributing part,” Buchetto said.

Cy Wagoner

Art runs through Cy Wagoner’s veins. His mother, a potter, and his father, a carpenter, always encouraged him to be creative. Though Wagoner has been an artist for many years, he recently became interested in murals.

His first mural was on a side wall of the Hive Community Center in Flagstaff. He painted it with a group of youth from Flagstaff and the Navajo Reservation. Wagoner said the mural had no theme but came together nicely and was a positive experience. He has also worked on pieces in Albuquerque and San Francisco. After he finished the mural at The Hive in Flagstaff, he was given the opportunity by Café Ole to paint another mural where he collaborated with other friends and artists.

“I am Navajo, Joe (Stacey) is Hopi and Mike 360 is Chicano,” Wagoner says. “At Ole we connected the indigenous tradition. The mural illustrates

Cy Wagoner works on a section of the mural

while standing on scaffolding. The Cafe Olé

mural was put together by the Native Movement

Artist’s Collective.

the cycle of life. There is night, day, water…life on Earth as it circulates.”

Wagoner said the mural needed a title. On the bottom of the wall the words, “They love everything about us except us,” is written.

“This area is so inviting to Native American art, but when it comes down to lifestyle, when it comes down to culture, people forget we are alive,” Wagoner said. “I am trying to take ownership back to who we are now. (We are) not about dream catchers and sage… there is a lifestyle that is being diluted. Through art and murals I want to put those stories onto spaces.”

Wagoner, who has his degree in secondary education, recently formed a group with other people from around the Southwest called Bread and Roses.

The sun is just rising over the desert. Among the layers of reddish dust and dying shrubs is a half-broken wall, decades of old mud packed tight and still standing. The wall was once a part of a room. The only remnants left behind of someone’s home are dulled spearheads and shards of pottery. No one visits here -- too far away from tourist traps.

It is early morning.But just as the sun reaches the noon peak, a figure emerges in an old beat-up truck. Fast and ferociously, the figure reaches to the ground, scooping up the spearhead and broken bowl. In an instant the figure is gone and the site is never the same.

Beyond the epicenter of the Four Corners monument, away from the commerce and tourists, exists site after site of ancient tribal ruins. Some of them are as old as 1,200 years. Some could be older. However, all of

them are monuments to a culture whose history is rich with art and tradition. All along the grounds of the ruins rest bowls and pottery as old as dirt but preserved for all time. Structures built from simple stone and mud have not teetered in ages. But tradition and culture are being corrupted, and once-powerful pillars of history are ready to collapse. Looting in the Four Corners, said San Carlos Apache archaeologist Vernelda Grant, is destroying the past and present for all people.

According to a 1992 federal report on looting, eight of 10 sites in the Four Corners have been looted or damaged. A 1988 report concluded that 90 percent of the sites had been vandalized, an increase of 42 percent from the 1985 report. Estimates of how many sites are hard to compile because, as University of Boulder-Colorado professor of anthropology Catherine Cameron said, the Four Corners has “literally thousands of sites” with more to find each year. Guesses range from 16,000 to

19,000 sites on the Corners total, adding up to 25,000 square miles.

Since June 2006, Cameron and students and professors of UC-Boulder have been working with the Bureau of Land Management to inventory artifacts on sites like Comb Ridge before they are lost forever. Cameron said sites in the Four Corners have a wealth of knowledge since Europeans have only been in the Southwest for the last 100 years. The dry climate of the area allows rocks

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shelters, tombs and pictographs to be “so well preserved, it’s remarkable.” The trees and bushes surrounding

the Corners have information that scientists can’t find anywhere else. The rings on plant life are more clear and concise, giving scientists clues to just how long this area has supported life and what conditions were like hundreds of years ago. Beyond environmental perks, archaeologists find artifact after artifact, remarking sites are so prevalent that there are ones every 20 feet or so. Bowls, pots, cups and spearheads are prevalent throughout the site. Cameron said it is because of the distance from populated locales that until recently sites have been free of damage and virtually wide open for archaeologists to explore.

But beyond scientific reasons, the sites at the Corners are an essential part of tribal life. Cameron said areas like Chaco Canyon were the Southwest’s epicenter of culture 1,000 years ago. Grant said the Corners are a perfect example of how important culture is to the various groups whose tribal land occupies the Corners,

including the Navajo and Ute people. Protecting the land and the traditions of their ancestors are of the

utmost importance to all tribes.

“Tribal people are fighting to protect their links to the past,” Grant said. “Tribal people are fighting for their right to exist.”

Along with an understanding of the significance of the sites at the Corners, it is important to understand who takes part in the crimes of looting and vandalism. Martin McAllister, owner of the company Archaeological Resource Investigations, which investigates crimes at archaeological sites, said the majority of the people looting the Corners are commercial looters, “those who do this to make a living.” Grant added looting for survival has been passed down from generation to generation in some cases. Grant told the story of a family she encountered -- grandparents, their son, his wife and their several children -- all out looting as “part of the family business.”

Beyond just looters, the ever-increasing problem of accidental looters exists as well. “A large number of

artifacts are taken by hobbyists, those who just collect,” McAllister said. “Other times, it can be ignorance, taken by those who don’t know the large amount of harm caused. Some of these people can become looters.”

It is the need for money, simple curiosity or plain ignorance that McAllister says helps make looting so dangerous.

“Looting is the fourth most serious crime worldwide,” McAllister said. “As well, it’s a multi-million dollar industry nationwide.”

To the uneducated, the artifacts stolen are simply clay

pots and bowls, a few spearheads and occasionally a

piece of jewelry. But Cameron, Grant and McAllister

have all experience as to just how much artifacts are

worth. Cameron tells of an ornate ritual bowl selling for

$100,000. Grant said she heard of a simple spearhead

going for $500. McAllister’s experience trumps them

all, with the tale of how a pot stolen from southwest

New Mexico in the early 1990s was sold in Paris for

$400,000 a decade later.

Along with simple spearheads and pottery, human

remains are being stolen from burial mounds. The

same dry conditions and prevalent artifacts that create

an archaeologist’s dream are also giving looters an

abundant and easily-found source of tombs to raid.

One undercover BLM agent said the amount of bone

snatching is something they find often and prosecute

heavily.

But more harmful to scientists like Cameron, Grant and

McAllister is that whatever is not taken from sites and sold

is being damaged, often beyond all repair. Looted sites

are often left with cracked walls and pillars completely

destroyed. Pictographs and petroglyphs on flat panels of

buildings and caves are being removed with high-powered

drills, causing structural weaknesses.

“Once damaged, (these sites) are never

coming back,” McAllister said. “These

resources are fragile and there could

be generations who won’t have the

educational experience.”

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Stealing artifacts, damaging structures and, most recently, bringing drugs into looting circles. “Drug trafficking and antiquities stealing go on in tandem,” Cameron said. “Almost no sites have gone unlooked, and it’s a real tragedy.”

McAllister said oftentimes while people loot sites they will “grow pot and make meth.” As a result, Grant said, tourists will find the large metal canisters where drugs are cooking under the sun and disturb them, causing the canisters to “blow up like dynamite in their face.” The looters

will sample the drugs and then begin looting under the influence. McAllister said the looters’ drug use can lead to unpredictable behavior.

“There has been created a class of people with an outlaw mentality,” McAllister said. “People who do drugs and

dig up sites, which can be potentially dangerous for those who walk in on them.”

The number of people walking in on looters is a problem for the protection of the Corners sites. According to a report by the U.S. Congress General Accounting office, in a million acres of land in the Southwest there are only 606 officers of the BLM, Parks and Recreations or National Forest Services to do surveillance on sites -- around 167,000 acres per officer. McAllister summed up the problem as too many sites and not enough officers. A comparison was made to the situation in the Tonto National Forest, where McAllister said that for 3 million acres there are only five or six officers to watch

over sites. Cameron said officers in charge of protecting also have other tasks to do and are not able to focus on constant surveillance of sites.

A vast number of the sites are in remote areas, where officers do not have the time to spare the effort to get

to such sites. McAllister said because almost 86 percent

of the Corners is tribal or government land, federal

agencies should do more to protect sites.

“In my opinion, I clearly feel that federal agencies

are not preventing damage and destruction on sites,”

McAllister said.

With the Corners in dire need of officers to protect sites,

more and more volunteer residents are stepping up to

prevent further damage. Mary Estes, resource protection

specialist for the Arizona Site Steward Program, said site

stewards are people who, on their own free time, will go

out to various sites. Usually the stewards are assigned

10 sites and take photos and documentation of damage

on the sites. Currently, Arizona alone has nearly 800

stewards focusing on 1,500 sites. Cameron, Grant and

McAllister all agreed the steward program is absolutely

essential in helping to stop looting and destruction,

with McAllister saying most looting reports come from concerned citizens.

Estes said with stewards just being at sites they are helping to prevent looting. However, the steward job can be a very dangerous one. A steward could come upon a looter who is high and they could be attacked. Both McAllister and Estes said their

respective organizations have not received any reports on stewards being harmed. Rather, Estes tells the story of a couple who, using a park ranger vehicle, were able to engage a group of looters in a conversation about dogs and drive away unharmed, writing down the looters’ license plate number to report to park officials. But these reports are frequently too little, too late.

“The steward reports come after the fact, after the crime has been committed,” Estes said. “It’s hard to find and convict someone in a state of 3 million people.”

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This is where federal laws like the Archaeological Resources Protection Act of 1979 come into play. The bill carries a $20,000 fine and up to one year imprisonment for first-time offenders. However, ARPA has not always worked to its full potential. According to a report from the NFS, the first conviction under ARPA did not occur until 1987, nine years after it passed, and around the time of the 45 percent increase in looting, according to the 1988 federal looting report.

The NFS reports there have been more than 200 convictions under ARPA since 1988. Interesting, Estes said, since in 2005 the steward program reported 95 looting and vandalism crimes, and 200 in 2006. McAllister said the worst crime is getting away with looting.

“A looter may get $200 for an artifact, then sell to an auctioneer who will sell it for $2,000,” McAllister said.

McAllister explained these auction houses and dealers are free from conviction, often claiming they were unaware of items being stolen. McAllister and the ARI’s five-year plan works with the BLM and prosecutors across the Southwest to educate and prevent dealers from buying and passing on stolen items.

As difficult as the situation may be for stewards and officers to prevent looting, Cameron said things may be getting worse.

“I have no doubt that stolen antiquities are all over places like Amazon.com,” Cameron said. “They have basically stolen from people.”

A letter from the Society of American Archaeology in 2000 asked the operators of Amazon.com to remove antiquities they had for sale on the Web site, including painted bowls and incense burners. McAllister, a member of the SAA, worked with this organization to keep stolen artifacts from being sold on the Web site.

“The Internet is a huge source where artifacts can be bought and sold,” McAllister said. “The Internet

has greatly facilitated the looting market.” McAllister also points out price guides of how much artifacts should go for have begun to be published, books that “create the bottom line that (history) is all about money.”

The looting of historical and cultural artifacts is a sad story that has hope for a happy ending, and it starts with individual citizens.

“Responsible members of a community must be watchful

and vigilant,” McAllister said. “Spirited and concerned

people should report activity to stop cultural heritage

from being stolen.”

McAllister added that the BLM has two officers investigating ARPA violations full time, and sites needed

officers who only investigate looting crimes. Cameron said the way to combat looting is to educate people on just what everyone would be missing if sites across the Corners and the world lost all their artifacts. Grant concluded that education and manpower is needed, but does not just fall on volunteers and officers.

“Everyone should know that when they visit these sites, they are partaking in an active history,” Grant said. “It is all of our responsibility to continue fighting for the right to exist.”

It is a brand new day. The sun rises over the reddish hills, lighting up the ruins, making shadows, adding

mystique to the landscape. The sun warms the desert, continuing its way across state after state, from the most remote burial mounds into the skyscrapers of cities. Same desert,

same ancient sites full of rich history ruined as more people silently move in to steal valuable artifacts.

But at the same time, men and women are driving over dirt roads, patrolling acre after acre, sitting in offices or meetings, drafting laws and kneeling down in marked off pits with tiny brushes. All of these people are working long, unrelenting hours, day in and day out with little pay and almost no thanks.

And it’s all in the name, and hope, of conservation for the heritage of an entire nation.

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DO

WN

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IRETOTHE

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BY MATTHEW DELONGPHOTOS BY MARCUS SABINI

The first thing you notice as you approach J.D. Protiva’s home are the dogs. There are a lot of them – 15 to be precise. Most of them are quite large, and they are all barking at you from the other side of the chain link fence. The dogs function as a primitive doorbell, alerting the residents of the two houses on the property to the presence of visitors. They also serve as a private security force. Any intruder would be foolish to trespass here.

I open the gate and let myself in. It is a gorgeous, unseasonably warm morning in early March, without question the nicest day of the

Previous page: J.D. Protiva rides Bill

with Muley (middle) and Hosie (right)

at his side. Protiva is now limited in

where he can go in National Forest

land after he was arrested for placing

a cable across an unauthorized

motorcycle trail circling the San

Francisco Peaks.

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year thus far. A lone cottony wisp of a cloud intrudes into an otherwise clear, deep cobalt sky.

J.D. lives on the top floor of a converted barn behind the main house, which is rented by his good friend Joan, an attractive brunette in her mid-30s, and her husband Paul. Joan and Paul are in the process of purchasing J.D.’s property so he can pay his legal bills, with the provision that he can live in his loft for the rest of his life.

In the barn I find J.D., who has just finished saddling up his horses. He is 72 years old, with a long, scraggly white beard not unlike that of a garden gnome. He is slim, with a full head of long, straight gray hair that he keeps pulled back. He is missing one of his upper incisors,

giving him the authentic, grizzled appearance of a prospector from the old west. Today, he is wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses. He has a buoyant, bubbly personality and laughs a deep belly laugh frequently.

J.D. and Joan met in June 2000, when he took his five horses on a two-week adventure from his home in Timberline, 10 miles northeast of Flagstaff, Ariz., to the north rim of the Grand Canyon and back.

On the way to the canyon, J.D. was trying to find the mule barn to stable his horses for the night, but was riding on the wrong trail near the helicopter tour headquarters. The low-flying choppers spooked his horses and they took off

J.D. is something of a small town celebrity, embraced by some and reviled by others. In October 2006, J.D. was arrested for fixing a cable about two feet off the ground across an unauthorized motorcycle trail that circles the San Francisco Peaks just north of Flagstaff to prevent riders from using it. J.D. readily admits to the act, but asserts the Challenger Trail was constructed illegally in the early 1980s with the tacit approval of the U.S. Forest Service but without a proper environmental review.

He believes the trail violates the Endangered Species Act because it passes through Mexican spotted owl habitat and the noise from the motorcycles disturbs the birds. The species is listed as threatened by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. According to the Center for Biological Diversity, the spotted owl population in Coconino National Forest declined by “at least 10 percent per year” between 1991 and 1997 and has continued to decline since. Protiva has been charged with three counts each of felony aggravated assault and

attempted aggravated assault, as well as a slew of federal charges for damaging trees in the national forest. One rider reported hitting the cable. He was thrown from his motorcycle, but was not seriously injured. Another cable was found by some other riders, who dismantled it without incident.

J.D. has expressed remorse and maintains that he never intended to hurt anyone. He says the cable was a last resort after putting up signs, laying logs across the trail and chaining gates shut failed to prevent ATV riders from using the trail.

“If I had wanted to hurt them, I’d have raised (the cable) up to where it caught their head and decapitated them,” J.D. told me in a prior interview. “This was a cowardly act. It was an act of desperation and exasperation. It’s the same thing they did in the Park Service when I worked for them. When they try to get off-road vehicles to stop going into an area, (the riders) just cut the fence, so they end up putting up cable. I

in a dead run toward the highway, terrifying the busloads of tourists watching the scene as their drivers slammed on the brakes and blared the horns. J.D. had just managed to get his horses under control before reaching the highway when Joan and a friend rode by on bicycles. J.D. asked for directions to the barn, so the two women stashed their bikes in the forest and walked three miles with J.D. to the stable.

“I told her I was going to ride across the canyon and she thought I was totally bonkers,” J.D. says.

The two became fast friends and have been close ever since.

Today J.D.’s mount is a calm, beautiful 11-year-old gelding named Bill. Bill has a black mane

and a long tail that almost touches the ground. His body is uniformly brown, save three small white spots that form a triangle on his back, and the white fur on his hind ankles that gives the appearance of socks. My ride is a large 20-year-old mule named Muley.

The other horse accompanying us, without a rider, is Angel, a 10-year-old black mare. Angel has a propensity for rubbing herself against pine trees, shrubs, or really, anything she can. J.D. explains that she is in “false heat,” a condition in which a mare behaves as if she is in heat, but cannot become pregnant.

“She’s a horny toad,” he says with a chuckle as he tightens the strap on her saddle.

didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I meant to scare them.”

After J.D. lends me a pair of cowboy boots and a straw hat, we set off from his place toward the trail to explore his two-square-mile exile area within the Coconino National Forest. A week ago, a federal judge offered a favorable deal in which J.D. pleaded guilty to the criminal damage charges in exchange for a small fine and agreed to confine his activities on federal land to this specified area behind Mt. Elden. As we depart, Joan comes out of her house to snap a picture of J.D. leading this east coast city slicker, who is clearly out of place atop a burro. She will later mail me the photo along with a very nice card.

The dogs, locked up in their large pen, are barking and whining as J.D. leaves the property. He explains the dogs usually accompany him when he goes riding, but they have to stay home from now on to avoid any potential confrontations that could cause more legal trouble.

“This is the first time I’ve ever gone out without any dogs,” J.D. says with a sigh. “It kills me to not be able to take them.”

Just before we reach the trailhead leading into the forest, his nemesis, an ATV rider, passes us and heads into the woods. J.D. is clearly not happy, but he contains his anger. Several minutes later, we are leisurely walking along a narrow, rocky trail that J.D. says he made himself.

“I made this trail through these rocks to keep the ATVs from going on it,” he says. “But those things can negotiate any trail that I can ride, walk or crawl on.”

As we ride through the forest, J.D. points out various archeological sites and artifacts: a hole in the ground that was the site of an Anasazi or Sinagua pit house; a large piece of iron sticking up out of the ground – an old railroad tie, a remnant from the days when logging companies hauled freshly-cut timber out of the forest with steam engines. He stops and nods toward a

�5 ��

conspicuous pine tree with a white ring painted around its base.

“That’s a sign that this is a site,” he says. “There’s a rock outline on the ground. I think this was an Indian ruin.”

Here, J.D. is in his element. He loves this forest and knows every inch of it. He has lived in Flagstaff since he moved from Leupp, on the Navajo reservation, in 1976. On the reservation he was a teacher at a boarding school for several years. Prior to that, he taught at schools in the midwest for 15 years, from the projects of St. Louis to the affluent suburb of North Little Rock, before heading west.

J.D. was born one of four children in Missouri – or Missourah, as he pronounces it – during the depths of the depression in 1934. J.D.’s father, whom he describes as good-natured and funny, worked in road construction, building routes between farms and markets. The family moved frequently to wherever the work was, and J.D. attended 12 different schools in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas by the time he reached the sixth grade.

“I was always that strange new kid with the funny name,” J.D. recounts.

In his youth, J.D. was an eagle scout, captain of his high school football team and class president. He participated in the ROTC program and spent two years on active duty in the U.S. Army at Fort Benning, Ga. and Fort Lewis, Wash. If he could do it over, he would not have joined the military.

“I’ve jumped through a few of the hoops, but I wouldn’t do it again,” he says. “I wouldn’t become a warrior for Uncle Sam. I admire the conscientious objectors – they’re on the right track – not the brainwashed cannon fodder that I was a part of.”

J.D. describes his mother as “a fishwife,” an antiquated term meaning a persistently critical and nagging woman. However, J.D. credits her with instilling within him a drive to stand up for the little guy, which has defined him to this day. As a rural schoolteacher who grew up in the segregated South, she never bought into the overt racism that pervaded southern consciousness, and never spoke ill of poor people or African-Americans.

“She had an unrelenting commitment to the underdog, which I’m proud to preserve a part of,” J.D. says.

Perhaps this is why he has anointed himself defender of the Mexican spotted owl, at no small risk to his own well-being. The charges he faces carry with them a maximum penalty of 31 years. J.D. says he can pinpoint the moment when he decided to take personal responsibility for the owl’s survival in his neck of the woods.

“It really came home to me when I held (a baby owl) in my hand and he wrapped his little talon toes around my little pinky and squeezed with all his might,” J.D. recalls, his eyes misty and his voice shaking. “Who wants to explain to their grandchildren what they used to look like or

what they used to sound like or how they fit in the chain? Not on my watch.”

J.D. is one of the last of a dying breed. Equal parts cowboy and anarchist, comparisons to Edward Abbey, trite though they may be, are inevitable. Watching him amble down the trail on horseback, I can’t help but imagine him doing this very thing, in this very spot, more than 100 years ago when Arizona was a much wilder place. However, as he exists today, J.D. could not have blossomed anywhere but America in the latter half of the 20th century. His worldview is a distinctive amalgam, forged from a life that has encompassed the Great Depression, the civil rights movement, the Cold War, Vietnam, Watergate, Reaganomics and the environmental destruction that has ravaged the Earth in the name of progress.

After about an hour on the trail, we stop at a trick tank, a trough filled seasonally by precipitation and runoff from the winter snowmelt, to water the horses (Muley, exhibiting the stubbornness for which this hybrid is famous, refuses to drink) and eat lunch. The single cloud has by now reproduced itself several times, but the deep blue remains. As we dine in the shade of pine trees, J.D. recounts one of the odd jobs he has held over the years.

“For about a year, I counted mouse turds for the Food and Drug Administration in New Orleans to document rodent contamination in warehouses, grocery stores and breweries, the small ones,” he says, chewing on a sandwich. “They never did inspect the big corporations.

Angel sips water from a trick

tank as J.D. looks on. J.D. often

stops at the tank to break for

a snack, a nap and to give the

horses a chance to drink.

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Cargill’s got the largest storage of soybeans in the nation, but they never inspected them.”

After finishing his sandwich, J.D. reaches into his plastic Florida Marlins lunchbox and produces a Tupperware with several slices of a very rich chocolate layer cake, courtesy of Joan, who is a pastry chef. He offers me a piece, which I accept. The conversation then turns to politics, and I ask J.D. how he would describe himself, ideologically.

“Oh, I’m left of Fidel,” he replies. “I identify with the importance of nature in our whole scheme of things, which has totally been negated, downgraded, ostracized and relegated to no importance at all. That’s one reason we’re the most hated nation on Earth, because we do such a damnable job of conserving. And it’s all for an empty exercise in consumerism.”

J.D. says his heroes are Castro and Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, two of the most prominent men to have aggressively stood up to American hegemony in the Western Hemisphere during the last half century and lived to tell the tale. He says leftist leaders like these give him hope for the future because they offer an alternative to the current world order dominated by the United States.

“I don’t think anything is ever going to be solved unless the powerless and the disenfranchised get power,” J.D. says. “There’s never going to be equality as long as you keep helping the powerful. ‘Trickle down’ is not a sane policy.”

A vocal critic of the war in Iraq, J.D. once hoisted himself to the top of a flagpole in a small boat at Wupatki National Monument and burned an effigy

of George W. Bush while working for the U.S. National Park Service. He makes no bones about his disgust with the current occupants of the White House.

“Look what’s happening in Washington right now,” J.D. says. “You can’t name a bureaucracy under Bush that’s not under fire, whether it’s Justice, the Defense Department, Veterans Affairs, Homeland Security, every single one. That ‘bring it on, I am the decider’ mentality trickles down to every bureaucrat. All of that’s coming out, and it’s just tickling the shit out of me.”

J.D. is no newcomer to activism. In the late 1970s, he packed up his car and headed east to Washington, D.C. to protest racist policies at the Bureau of Indian Affairs in person. Once, when a film crew was shooting a commercial for Lucky Strike cigarettes at Wupatki, long before the class action lawsuits, he donned a sign that read “Smoking Causes Cancer,” and attempted to get into every shot. He prides himself on taking stands on issues before they come to national attention and he believes he will ultimately be vindicated concerning the Mexican spotted owl.

“Time and time again, when I had been (dismissed as) nothing but total stupidity or futile effort, my perspective was proven to be the more prudent perspective as time goes on,” J.D. says with a quivering voice. “That’s going to happen real quick with spotted owls on the peaks.”

I ask J.D., who raised three children on his own after his young wife died of brain cancer in 1961, what his children think about his current situation. He has a

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son who lives in Flagstaff and works as an engineer at a firm that does a lot of commercial development in town. They have not spoken since J.D. was arrested.

“He’s absolutely mortified every time he sees ‘Protiva’ in print,” J.D. says of his son.

He has another son, an evangelical Christian who owns a free-range poultry farm in Missouri, and a daughter who is an artist in New Mexico. He sees them every couple of years when he goes back to Missouri to visit. He says they are concerned for their father, even if they don’t understand why he does the things he does. J.D. says he is thankful his children have turned out all right, despite growing up without their mother and with an eccentric, radical father.

“It’s a miracle (my kids) survived at all,” J.D. says. “Not only did they not have a mother to nurture them, they had all the community members badmouthing their father as the communist, the lunatic that’s always against what everybody else believes.”

It is now early afternoon, and with lunch finished, we lead the horses to the trough for another drink before getting back on the trail. Muley still refuses to partake.

As we ride back to J.D.’s house, we are treated to a sight that would have been unthinkable had the dogs been with us. A pair of elk graze in a meadow some 50 yards away, maintaining a watchful eye but apparently unalarmed. After another hour, we return to J.D.’s barn, where he

removes the saddles from the horses (and Muley) and puts them in their pen. The sky is now dotted with dozens of puffy cumulus clouds.

We climb the rickety steps to J.D.’s loft. Inside, laundry hangs from a clothesline, dividing the large room in two. The sea foam green walls are lined with disorganized bookshelves and covered with old photographs of the Grand Canyon, horses and other animals.

J.D. has a collection of over 20 antique sewing machines, most of which he bought at Goodwill. Some are quite valuable, and they are concentrated in one corner. He says they represent the epitome of American engineering.

“Anything that takes raw material and makes it into a product fascinates the hell out of me,” he says.

I return the boots and hat and we chat briefly about his strategy for his upcoming court appearances. He says he is tired and is going to take a nap. I thank him for the experience and take my leave.

As I get in my car to head back into town, it occurs to me that to many people, J.D. is as much a terrorist as Osama bin Laden, or at the very least a criminal who belongs in prison. Of course, those people don’t know him.

J.D. might be a terrorist and a criminal, but he is also an original – a free spirit who does not belong in a cage, and a tenuous link to a bygone era that is rapidly fading from America’s collective consciousness.

NativeVoices

The studio is stuffy, but no one notices because the air buzzes with activity. The lights flash, the sound is checked, papers shuffle and the reporter takes his place. He wears large earphones and a concentrated expression as he sidles up to the microphone to deliver some of today’s news. As his deep voice flows over the airwaves, it’s not English that’s being heard, but Navajo—the native language of the people his station serves. As his hushed yet audible tones flow, he talks about recent land issues, upcoming tribal events and the Save the Peaks campaign. His voice carries the news over airwaves and across the Internet, intent on reaching the ears of its audience. This is their station, one of very few that let them have their own voice.

are invisible within mainstream media. In order to combat this problem, Native Public Media takes its fight to the nation’s capital, where the organization is heavily involved in advocacy and policy work.

Since the organization focuses heavily on radio and telecommunications, they are working to help tribes gain formal media ownership over radio stations in “Indian Country,” a term used to describe the indigenous lands of the Native peoples. This fall, the Federal Communications Commission has an open frequency window—a period of time where those interested can apply for licensees to secure independent radio stations. Native Public Media will be at the forefront of helping individual tribes to engage in the FCC and apply for licensees to gain access to their own radio stations where they can broadcast their news.

Jay Allen, program director of the Native Broadcast Enterprise, and station manager for KTNN AM/KWRK FM, an independent Navajo station in Window Rock, N.M., believes independent radio should be a crucial part of every Native community.

“Independent radio is needed on all tribal nations,” Allen says. “It puts the language out there, keeps the cultures and traditions going, and spreads news to people who can’t get it from any other medium.”

The NBE station is primarily an informational station and about 80 percent of its broadcast is in the Navajo language. Allen says broadcasting in Navajo helps to preserve its spoken word, but it may come with a price—the station has a hard time connecting with Native youth, many of whom may not be fluent in the language. Despite this obstacle, Allen hopes the language barrier only encourages youth to listen to the station and try to learn it.

Recently, the station has been thriving—in April it opened the doors of a new building and multimedia center. It is also available worldwide on its own Web site now, which Allen believes will be a big help for Navajo people who live away from the station’s frequency.

by Michelle Talsma

“Now that we’re online, it’s a big help for our troops and Navajos across the country,” Allen says. “They can take a little piece of home with them wherever they are.”

In the future, Allen hopes the radio station can expand into television programming as well.Although radio is a popular medium of choice for independent Native news, there are many newspaper publications working to capture the Native voice on print.

Wells Mahkee Jr., managing editor of the Navajo-Hopi Observer, has been involved in covering Native issues since the mid-‘90s. He began his career working for the Shiwi Messenger, a small bi-weekly publication based in the Zuni Pueblo. After covering intense issues and realizing how the power of the press makes a difference, he made it his life’s work to give Native cultures a voice within the print medium. “We cover news items in the outlying Navajo and Hopi communities,” Mahkee says. “In the national news, with the war in Iraq and other issues, there is never anything positive in the news. We try to report on the positive aspects, stuff the mainstream media may consider trivial—it’s what we like to emphasize.”

Even though the Navajo-Hopi Observer is entering its 26th year of existence, Mahkee is the first Native managing editor and the only Native American currently on staff. He feels this has made his coverage of the issues his culture faces more “meaningful.” And, as with many in the radio world, Mahkee agrees Natives are usually unseen in mainstream media.“Unfortunately we are invisible and sometimes overshadowed by bigger newspapers,” Mahkee says. “We only cover northeast Arizona and a lot of our news doesn’t go to mainstream media. Plus, being a weekly publication, it’s hard to cover breaking news. But we do the best we can and I think the communities we serve appreciate what we’re doing.”

Out of 562 federally recognized Native tribes in the United States, only 33 own their own public radio station, according to Loris Taylor, director of Native Public Media, an organization dedicated to strengthening and expanding the Native American presence within media.

“Media is all about voice,” Taylor says. “Through it we are able to articulate our history, culture, news, songs, art and a sense of self. We can identify who we are and receive validation for it. This is why many tribes are trying to advance their own voice, so they can be heard on many issues important to them.” Taylor says Native Americans and their issues

Preserving, expanding the Native voice

52

Marcus Sabini

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especially those not from a Native culture, face many challenges when it comes to just basic reporting on issues concerning the Native communities.

“Getting a hold of people is hard because of lack of ways to communicate,” Kraker says. “There’s vast distances to cover and many sensitive issues; many Native people don’t necessarily want to talk to outsiders about their culture and religion.”

Over the years Kraker has learned to combat some of these challenges by a lot of persistence, coordinating communication, learning about cultural nuances, being respectful and not always being in a hurry to get the story. As a non-Native who began reporting on Native issues after being a freelance journalist on the Navajo Reservation for three years, he said it took him a long time to establish trust among those he interviewed.

Despite the challenges journalists face, Kraker says it’s worth it to be able to get Native voices heard on the air.

“Simply, there needs to be more Natives in journalism,” Kraker says.

Educating the youth, hope for the future

Many in and out of the media world agree that the hope for improving coverage on Native issues, both in mainstream and independent media, lies with the next generation.

“Many young people who grew up on the reservations did so without radio or TV,” Taylor says. “Media isn’t engrained into our culture. But we have very oral cultures, which is compatible with broadcast media. I hope the many young Natives choose to pursue broadcasting; it’s a way to revitalize the cultures and save the languages.”

Taylor and her organization believe emerging technology is able to create new mediums of communication for Native youth. Many independent Native media outlets, such as the NBE, are also helping to inspire and educate possible future journalists.

“Natives are overlooked in the media no matter what, so we need to get more young people interested in journalism and

broadcasting to help change that,” Allen says. “We’re

currently working with Northern Arizona University and

the Arizona Broadcasting Association to create a camp where

young people can come to learn more about journalism.”

Allen believes getting Native youth interested in careers in

the media is important, especially when it comes to reporting

on issues involving their own cultures. In his point of view,

when a reporter understands the culture, traditions and

background of the issues he or she is covering, they will

present a more thorough story.

One organization that works solely to encourage media

education for Native youth is Outta Your Backpack Media,

a youth workshop created by Indigenous Action Media

in Flagstaff, Ariz. The organization strives to empower

Native youth to take ownership of media by teaching them

filmmaking from the ground up. After providing backpacks

full of video equipment to them, the youth create their own

short films from start to finish, learning each step along the

way.

Shelby Rae, a Navajo high school sophomore in Flagstaff,

is the youth director for the organization. In the past couple

years she has worked with Outta Your Backpack Media, she

has won local and national awards for her short films. She

also won a trip to a Native film festival in New York City,

where she met popular Native filmmakers. She said she has

had an amazing experience, and understands the importance

her work holds for her people.

“When we provide backpacks to other kids to help them make

films about their communities, it gives them a chance to tell

their side of the story,” Rae said. “Local news doesn’t tell our

stories, and if they do, sometimes they twist our words.”

Rae, who plans on going to school for journalism and

filmmaking, hopes to see more Native youth experience

the same things she has with Outta Your Backpack Media.

“When I was in New York I saw that in mainstream

media there was nothing but non-Natives,” Rae said.

“I want to change that.”

Mahkee wants to see his newspaper grow, and hopes

one day he can have a bigger news staff and employ

more Native Americans from various tribes to cover

their own issues.

Native media faces challenges to reach audience

Even though maintaining a news organization dedicated

to Native issues is hard work in itself, those who do so also

face many challenges to cover their issues and get the news

out to those that matter most—the people they represent.

“The barriers are many; there’s a serious

telecommunications lag,” Taylor says, referring to

the complications of independent radio media. “Many

people still don’t have telephone service, so a lot of the

infrastructure simply isn’t there.”

On the upside, Taylor says, Native Public Media and

many other organizations like it are creating blueprints

to get technologies to the communities they strive to serve.

Her organization’s goal is to bring communication

systems into every community.

“We’re (Native Americans) underrepresented and virtually

invisible,” Taylor says. “But with ownership access and

work on the infrastructure, there’s hope for change.”

As with the radio medium, Mahkee says print media faces

many challenges to reach its readers. One of its biggest

challenges: finding the resources to cover the issues facing

the communities it serves. With so many events going in

such a vast area, his staff simply cannot cover everything

they would like to. The solution the newspaper has been

using over the past 25 years? Calling on its readers

to be its eyes and ears within their own community.

“It’s hard not to be able to go out and to cover all the areas,

but we do the best we can,” Mahkee says. “We encourage our

readers to submit news items and also hold seminars across

the reservations on how exactly to do so. We emphasize

to them that this is ‘their paper.’ Also, we try to get tribal

organizations involved as well.”

Daniel Kraker, KNAU Radio news director and Indian

Country News correspondent, says many journalists,

Leanderson Shay, aka The Bandit, has worked as a DJ at

KTNN in Window Rock, Ariz. for the past three years. KTNN

660AM, located on the Navajo Nation, received the last

50,000-watt broadcast permit to be issued in the country.

The personality of Flagstaff can be found around every corner. You can find it in the waitress on her smoke break, the local artist on his way to grab a quick cup of coffee, and in the traveler just passing through. It’s not the brick and mortar that make up this town — it’s the people that walk its streets.

Photos by: Addie Mannanby: Tanya Clayton

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a canyon with a running stream that is surrounded by red cliffs, open pastures that hug the canyon walls and calming winds that glide across your skin. Can you picture it? There is such a place. It is called Angel’s Canyon, and it is home to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary and the 1,500 animals that are in desperate need of a little tender, loving care. Michael Mountain is the president and one of the founders of Best Friends. He left Oxford University and traveled around Europe protesting cruelty to animals. To this day he spends his time speaking to the public on behalf of animals and the sanctuary. It is the conviction of people like Mountain that make a difference and institute change. There is not a single person at Best Friends who does not feel a strong connection with the animals and unconditional love for each one of them.

Close your eyesand imagine

Above: Howard, a victim of Hurricane Katrina, is

excited to see his rescuer, Jane Brewster. Brewster

works with many of the canines that come to Best

Friends.

Left: One of the horse pastures is the location for an

old movie set barn. Horses, like Appy, take shelter in

the barn to escape the elements.

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Best Friends is spread out across 33,000 acres of the canyon, but only about 2,000 acres are actually utilized by the sanctuary. The larger areas of land have been turned into pastures for the horses and donkeys. The open pastures are accessed by a dirt road that runs through the canyon and connects the different areas of the sanctuary. The sanctuary will generally only take animals from other rescue facilities or humane societies when all other options have run out. The sanctuary does not typically take in animals from individual people.

The sanctuary is divided up into areas that are specific to a type of animal; for example, Horse Headquarters is designed to take care of farm animals. The majority of the animals that are brought to Best Friends need special attention of some kind, whether the attention is behavioral or medical. The most recent addition to Horse Headquarters is a paint mare named Tonta who was neglected by her owners. Tonta has a tumor on her third eyelid that has now attached itself to her eye and has completely taken over. If the tumor had been taken care of when she first started to develop it, her eye might have been saved. As it stands, she is scheduled for surgery, where she will lose her eye. There are so many stories like Tonta’s that can be found at Best Friends; each animal offers a story of survival.

It is stories like Tonta’s that bring 20,000 people to Best Friends each year. Some come to volunteer their time and help with the animals, while others are looking for a special companion

Above: At the end of the day

they make the rounds to feed the

horses located throughout the

33,000 acre canyon.

Left: Jen Reid, the manager of

Horse Haven, spends some quality

time with Margie, one of the

“Granny” horses.

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to take home. The volunteers who visit Best Friends come from all over the country and the world. Monroe De Vos from College Park, Ga. spends his vacation each year helping out at Best Friends. De Vos has been volunteering at Best Friends one week a year for the past four years. He knows his time and money are being put to good use. Best Friends is not only a place for animals to heal, but for people as well.

“It’s a healing place for people who are low in life,” De Vos said.

These “lost souls,” as De Vos refers to them, find solace with the animals at Best Friends. There is an unspoken and intense connection that can be found with animals. While there are some

people who are skeptical of the advantages of having pets, there are an increasing number of studies that have shown how animals offer health benefits for people. A study from the Center for Disease Control says pets can lower cholesterol, feelings of loneliness and blood pressure. Doctors Pamela Carlisle-Frank and Joshua M. Frank of FIREPAW, a non-profit organization for promoting animal welfare through education, offer insight into the advantages

Above: A 22-year-old cat, can no longer see or hear,

but knows how to give affection. Cathie Toops has been

an employee at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary for

almost four years.

Left: Valerie Bermant looks lovingly at Britany, the

office pig at Horse Haven. Britany has taken on a tough

battle with cancer.

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of working with animals with their article “Helping Animals, Healing Ourselves.”

“Animals helping us is one thing but when people do things to make the world a better place for animals, we all win. When we connect with animals our entire world opens up.”

The sanctuary is also the location of an ever-expanding cemetery called Angel’s Rest. The cemetery is the final resting place for more than 4,000 animals and even a couple of humans. Lenny Domyan, who is also known as “Uncle Lenny,” has been the caretaker for Angel’s Rest for the past several years.

Angel’s Rest is an emotional place for animal lovers. Uncle Lenny recounted a woman who would visit Angel’s Rest, but could not cross the threshold of the entry gate. Finally, on her third visit, she was able to take one step across that line. Angel’s Rest is one of

Left: It’s almost always feeding time for

the young kittens at Best Friends. Just

like all babies, they need to eat often and

on schedule.

Below: Jen Reid gets a kiss from Louise, a

resident goat in Horse Haven.

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the most enchanting locations in the canyon - not because of its location but because of what it represents. There are hundreds of wind chimes hanging throughout the cemetery, and each chime is a memorial for a lost animal. People all over the world can purchase a wind chime and dedicate it to their deceased pet. Once a chime is hung, that is where it remains for all eternity.

There is a myth associated with these “magical” chimes, as Uncle Lenny calls them. No matter how still the air is, every time an animal is “tucked in”at Angel’s Rest, at least one chime rings. As legend has it, the ring of the chime is the spirit of that animal running across Angel’s Bridge happy and free. Best Friends Animal Sanctuary is not only a peaceful resting place, but it is also a place of healing for both animals and humans alike. One visit to Angel’s Canyon will reaffirm your faith in humanity and show you that there are people in the world who are capable of insurmountable and unconditional love for all the living creatures of the world.

Above: The Granny horses are in a corral of their own. Most of these older

mares are more than 20 years old. They can be a bit temperamental at

times but show their appreciation for their caretakers as well.

Left: Uncle Lenny, caretaker of Angel’s Rest, the cemetery at Best Friends,

chats with a visitor. Windchimes are hung throughout the cemetery as

dedications to those who could not be buried here. Many families still

come to visit their beloved pets who have passed away.

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Train

Hop on the

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by Marcus Sabini

Little Johnny considers himself a tramp, or a self-described “scenery bum.”

He says tramps are people who “stay on the bum” and ride trains just to

travel. Little Johnny has been riding the rails across the United States for

the past three years.

Little Johnny was attracting a lot of attention while sitting outside of a coffee

shop in downtown Flagstaff, Ariz. due to his adorably small grey mutt named

Dolly. They were positioned directly in front of the main door, making it

virtually impossible for someone not to notice them and in turn pet his cute

puppy. Little Johnny was leaning against an oversized camouflage backpack,

feet propped on a wooden bench, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes while drinking

coffee. He shot me a big smile as I asked to sit next to him. He was jittery, but

not in a menacing, creepy way. He was just constantly looking for something to

eat, either for himself or for his dog. He often would take half-eaten muffins and

other goodies customers had left behind. It was astounding how well he ate just

in the hour or so we sat outside the coffee shop.

Marcus Sabini

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As he talked, he gestured with his grimy hands, and I could barely make out the ink scrawled across his knuckles. “Hard luck” was written on his fingers in black letters. Among the many other amateurish tattoos scattered across his body was a symbol on his tanned arm – a circle with two parallel arrows pointing to the right. “This means keep moving,” Johnny said when he noticed me looking at the self-inflicted tattoo. “It means get the hell out of Dodge.”

Johnny wore a uniform of scuffed black boots, a sleeveless black shirt, a black zip-up hoodie, patched-up black pants and a green camouflage bandana wrapped around his neck. His hat was emblazoned with a Kansas City Southern logo that a conductor had given him. Under his hat, though I rarely saw him without it, was sandy brown hair that at one time was probably cut in some sort of mohawk.

His hands were filthy and his nails contained so much grime that they appeared black. His skin was tan but also darkened from the accumulating layers of grunge. His voice was undulating and rhythmic as our conversations rolled along with few pauses

was not a question I had ever asked someone, but seemed inevitable being that I live in a town that is divided by train tracks and where close to 100 trains pass through a day. Being at the crossroads of two major interstate highways, an Amtrak station and a Greyhound station, Flagstaff sees its fair share of transients. Little Johnny told me that on this trip out west from his hometown in North Carolina, he had been mostly hitchhiking. I learned that he’s been traveling around America for the past four years, with three of those years spent train hopping. This was even more shocking when I found out he was only 20. I told him of my desire to learn how to train hop, and he said he was more than willing to show me some of his tricks of the trade. Before we went up to examine the trains and tracks, he gave me some important background information.

The hobo culture had always fascinated me and I was eager to learn more. Somewhere buried deep in my subconscious were memories of cartoons or TV shows with hoboes carrying bindles, huddled around a trash can fire, eating stew and telling stories. Johnny drew the line between tramps and hoboes. He said tramps are different from hoboes because hoboes are typically migratory workers who travel with their tools from job to job.

“Tramps are perfectly happy staying on the bum and usually have no desire to work,” Little Johnny said. There is also a network of homeless hoboes and tramps called the Freight Train Riders of America. He joked that FTRA really stands for ‘Fraid To Ride Alone. He told me about famous hoboes like New York Slim, and how there are probably FTRA members here in Flagstaff.

It was a gorgeous spring day where the oversized clouds seemed to roll through the deep blue sky, so we decided to walk around and find a catch-out spot. A catch-out spot is a place where people scope things out and wait for a train to slow down enough to hop on. The first clues he told me to look for when searching for a good spot were train signals and turns, and this spot had both. These will slow the

and bounced from one topic to the next. He was very soft-spoken, and judging by our level of conversation, he seemed quite articulate. Lying inches from his now empty coffee cup were his used dishes, silverware, a lighter, a pouch of Bugler tobacco and a small knife with a leather sheath made from the finger of a glove. Later that day, he’d have to pull that knife as a couple of dogs charged out of a house trying to attack Dolly.

He told me he had hitchhiked into town and was trying to head west, probably to San Diego.

“I need to find a girl out there,” he said.

“Oh, you got friends out there?” I replied.

“No, I just heard there’s a lot of girls on the bum out there and I need some sewing done.”

We shared a laugh, and as I looked at his tattered pants, I realized the urgency of his dilemma. The pant legs had patches on top of patches.

Call it Piscean intuition or just the fact that I had never seen him around our small mountain town, but after talking with him for a while, I asked if he had ever hopped a train before. This

AC

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Emma Bunkley

Emma Bunkley

Left: Little Johnny and and his dog

Dolly watch as a train pulls through

Flagstaff, Ariz. From close to this

vantage point, I receive my first

lesson in what to look for in order

to hop a train.

Little Johnny sits outside of Macy’s

Coffeehouse in downtown Flagstaff

after hitchhiking into town.

�5

trains down a lot or, better yet, stop them. Catch-out spots can also be train yards, which are usually safer because the trains are at a stand-still.

When we got to the tracks, we decided to walk parallel to the tracks on the bull-run. A bull-run is a small road that runs directly alongside the train tracks. The bull is a man who works for the train companies and drives along this road. This particular bull-run was elevated above the tracks and gave us a bird’s-eye view of the passing trains.

As the first train sped by, he told me, “If you can’t count the bolts on the wheels, the train is going too fast to jump on. You can’t just jump on…check everything: boots,

shoelaces and backpacks or anything that can get caught can cause you major trouble. Also, to get a feel for the pace of the train, try running alongside it.”

This was valuable advice because trains can be very deceiving. Many times I thought the train was just creeping along, but when I got closer to it, I realized it was moving at a pretty good clip. While perched on the edge of a rise, Little Johnny explained all the different types of train cars and which ones were rideable.

In the hour we spent at this spot, at least three to four trains passed us by. Johnny waved at the first conductor

he saw. He then glowed with joy after the conductor saw him and blasted his horn in acknowledgement.

“They love us; it’s good luck to have a hobo on your train… it will never derail,” Johnny said.

Luckily for me, those trains contained nearly every type of rail car there is, including boxcars, grainers, gondolas, refrigerator cars (reefers), 48s, piggybacks (which carry 18 wheelers) and if you’re feeling daring, you can even ride locomotives. Some train cars that aren’t rideable are spine cars, 53s and tankers.

When most people think of train hopping, they envision hanging out in an empty boxcar with the doors open and the wind in your hair. Boxcars are a good ride, Little Johnny tells me, but are also dangerous because they can be detached from the train near rail yards. The best ride is a “Cadillac grainer.” This is a grain car that is almost entirely enclosed on the ends, hiding you from sight and protecting you from the elements.

One story that Johnny told me occurred while he was riding a train near Beaumont, Texas with a friend named Greg. They drank six bottles

of Night Train and headed eastbound to Los Angeles. When they hopped in the boxcar, they noticed white powder all over the floor. Being highly intoxicated, they paid it no mind and set up their sleeping bags to pass out. While they were sleeping, Johnny knocked over the water jug, spilling it all over the place. Johnny woke up after the train stopped in a yard to find that he couldn’t move at all. The white powder had been some kind of industrial-strength glue and now Johnny, limbs stuck together, was glued to the floor. Greg, after cutting himself out of his sleeping bag, had to cut a clump of Johnny’s hair off with a bowie knife to eventually release Johnny from his sticky situation. Johnny told me it took weeks to get the glue completely off.

Though I tried and tried to convince Johnny to hop a train with me while he was in town, my efforts were futile. He ended up staying in Flagstaff for a couple weeks, causing some havoc while drunk at house parties and leaving just as mysteriously as he arrived. Let’s just hope Johnny found that one girl who could look past his grimy exterior and accept him as he is. If not, maybe she at least sewed his pants.

Marcus Sabini

Marcus Sabini