In the 80’s, Newsweek Magazine ran an annual Fourth of July feature of Unsung American Heroes. One person in each state and the District of Columbia was identified and recognized for what would have gone undone without them. Over a span of a few years, I was honored to choose and report on the representative for Colorado, my home at the time. In 1988, I suggested Walter Littlemoon in Denver for South Dakota’s hero.
We had actually met four years earlier. He was living in Denver, but caring for an entire community, his real home.
Walter introduced me to Wounded Knee, South Dakota. I was overwhelmed. It changed my life, and I’m still reacting.
Recently, I read his autobiography, They Called Me Uncivilized, written with Jane Ridgway. I was stunned again. This time, by seeing how he and I grew up in such different worlds within the same country, and only a few years apart.
A few weeks ago, I wrote to Walter to share that I was continuing to work on what he had set in motion in me. Just as we were about to celebrate this nation’s 250th birthday, the letter came back. Apparently, Walter had passed away even as my letter was in the mail.
What follows is the Newsweek piece I wrote in 1988. It describes Walter as I knew him then, before his book added volumes.
Walter Littlemoon for Newsweek, July 4, 1988
For such a big man, Walter Littlemoon is surprisingly soft spoken. The 6’3” Lakota Sioux wears his long dark hair tied in a tail behind his head. He’s a humble man and usually averts his eyes as he speaks. Attention is something that he grudgingly accepts as necessary to carry out his work.
Littlemoon was born in 1942 at his family’s home in Wounded Knee, South Dakota. He bounced around from school to school and later, job to job. He served in the Army doing stints in Germany and Vietnam.
Alcohol eventually became a part of his life. In describing himself during that time, Littlemoon says he was a zombie with closed emotions. “My drinking was completely out of hand, I lost everything that I had.”
In 1973, Littlemoon saw Wounded Knee crumble when Federal marshalls invaded the community during a dispute with the American Indian Movement. During the months of marshall law, there was no water, gas or electricity and after a while there were no animals either. Houses were looted and destroyed, including Littlemoon’s family home. He and others would sneak away to a town in nearby Nebraska and would each backpack 50 to 60 lbs. of food back to families that were living on Red Cross sandwiches. The people of Wounded Knee became divided and fought among themselves. Many left the community for other parts.
The following year, Littlemoon overcame his drinking. “Even after all these years, I still have dreams where I see all my friends getting drunk and I’d be right there practicing with them. I still have to be very careful about these things and I have to be alert about them. Basically, my whole life changed after I quit drinking. It took a lot of work; a lot of determination. I can’t say I’ll ever be cured of alcoholism. It still walks beside me. It’s there all the time, but I can control it today. I feel good about that part of it.”
Littlemoon went back to school, studying for a job in the mental health field. Though he didn’t complete the program, he went on to work in alcohol and drug counseling in Denver. “I started working in different Federally funded programs, but I always found my hands tied. Help wasn’t really getting out, so I decided that I’d look around and see if I could find some more people who were interested in doing something for Native Americans that didn’t meet the eligibility requirements of these agencies.”
In July, 1981 he and his wife, Muriel Ashmore, founded the Tiyospaye (pronounced Tee-osh-pah) Crisis Center to help these people. A small Denver house has since been Tiyospaye base of operations. They provide counseling and either find or provide emergency shelter. Newcomers from the reservations are aided with translating and in obtaining ID’s and licenses.
When someone dies while in the city, Littlemoon will drive the body hundreds of miles to the reservation for only gas money. He brags about how cheaply he can live on the road with baloney sandwiches and coffee and sleeping in his battered truck.
“We never went after any type of federal, city or state funding. They have too many strings attached. Mostly the donations we receive have kept us in operation. We only ask people for what we need and that’s it. As time went on that money started growing. We didn’t get rich from it. Even to this day I still use my personal van. My pick-up finally gave up, but I got an older van for $250” Today, Tiyospaye has expanded to a few chapters in other cities, not just for Native Americans, but anyone in need of help regardless of race or color.
Just months after founding the center, Littlemoon returned to Wounded Knee. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, Wounded Knee was the poorest community in the nation and with a 75% unemployment rate, most lived on welfare. He was appalled by the condition and the despair. “The people were living in modern HUD homes, but they were sitting there with no electricity, no heat, no water. Sometimes they’ve had to choose between fuel and food. “ One house held 26 people. “Conditions were a lot worse than when I was growing up.”
The few residents were still distrustful of each other and had little in the way of food, clothing or shelter. With a harsh South Dakota winter on the way, Littlemoon realized the desperation of the situation. He went back to Denver and began taking up a collection. He obtained food, clothing, tools and money and brought everything that he could collect to them. Throughout the process, he fought their alcoholism and apathy. He made their self-respect a goal.
“We broke the project up into stages. One was to overcome the mental part of the thing which we felt was very important to the survival of the community. The people had to want to change, I couldn’t make them change. They weren’t satisfied with a day to day existance. They needed long term goals without intimidation. Sometimes it didn’t look like things were going to work, but at the last minute they’d seem to catch.”
The first summer, when Littlemoon obtained three roto-tillers and seeds, 43 new vegetable gardens appeared. “The gardening project was to help in developing pride and self confidence. There wasn’t much money involved in a small project like that. Most of the seeds were donated. The tillers were donated. We only had to raise a few thousand dollars.”
“We had to work with the first stage constantly and continuously trying to make life a little more acceptable. Starting up food banks, bringing in clothes. The physical appearance of Wounded Knee really hasn’t changed at all, but the minds of the people, their self-worth and self confidence have.”
“This year we’re starting the second stage of it; building a community center, introducing community activities such as singing and dancing and some type of tourist attraction. We just got an ambulance.”
The community has no store and local employment hasn’t changed at all. The nearest groceries are 15 miles away in Pine Ridge and most residents have no transportation. “It’ll be a busy summer for me, building a community center plus setting up a store. It’s sometimes overwhelming when I think about all the work, but I try to stay away from that.”
For the first time in decades a steering committee made up of elders has been formed with all meetings to be conducted in Lakota to reinforce their self-worth. For thirty or forty years, the elders had been completely forgotten. “They’d become just another burden for the younger adults. Now they’re beginning to feel that the elderly are more important. It was kind of hard getting the elderly together, but once we did, it just took off by itself and they feel pretty good about it.”
Though his weariness is apparent, Littlemoon frequently works sixteen hour days, seven days a week to keep things going. He’s taken one vacation in seven years. He receives no pay or salary, although at times the crisis center handles large amounts of privately donated funds. Personal income is limited to the disability income of his wife who’s been in kidney dialysis three days a week for six years.
His goals remain to be fulfilled, but in the years since he began, Littlemoon has made a difference for Wounded Knee. For the first time in anyone’s memory, there are again buffalo on the Pine Ridge Reservation. Truckloads of chickens and goats have been delivered. “A number of the goats ended in pots. Fresh meat is really hard to come by. I couldn’t blame the people or say anything because I could understand it.”
The Christmas and Easter celebrations now draw hundreds of people as a new sense of community is starting to take hold and people begin getting involved. “We’re helping a church that hasn’t been in operation since about 1969 get back on its feet. I’m hoping that they’ll get a new building. That will be an additional multi-purpose building for the community.”
“We’re giving them quite a bit, hoping that they’ll pick out some type of priority and give it the best they can. That’s about as much as they can do and that’s all we ask; that they at least try. I like the direction that the whole community is going. A few of the people have mentioned things in the future about a school, about some more homes. That makes me feel good because I know then that their minds are positive. I like the way things feel.”
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What an amazing light…thank you for sharing, Jim!!