Bloodland: A Family Story of Oil, Greed and Murder on the Osage Reservation (Conclusion)

CJ:  The personal trend the author took in this book was ahead of its time as far as history is concerned. He wrote this way before we realized that "history" is more than a list of Presidents and battles in wars long gone. Thank goodness we have trended away from such drudgery and are now looking into social history, which is what the author shares with us. I would love to see Ken Burns pick up the Osage story!  

FM:  Good point, though I see some of both approaches here.  At some point in this narrative, the “play-by-play” recitation of details that can be such a grind in some history books subtly morphs into a rather synoptic detective story; still a bit terse in its structure, but beginning to display some of the background tension that a well-told detective story contains.  When the Feds (even the term G-Men is conjured!) come into the picture, the plot really begins to take off.  The FBI sends in undercover agents who “posed as an insurance agent, a Texas cattle buyer, a real estate agent and…an Indian ‘medicine man.’”  Sweet! 

CJ:  I was particularly drawn to the poetry McAuliffe used to describe the town of Pawhuska. I remember the first time I was there feeling a sadness for the triangle building and imagining what it must have looked like when the town was vibrant. Now having read his descriptions of the places in his story I want to go back and find them for myself. Though the house is gone, I want to see the place where his grandmother was murdered and stand where she might have stood. I don't know if I believe in spirits roaming earth or not, but I think her presence can probably be felt in that place. 

FM:  The author continues to give us his personal perspective, including an in-depth look at his struggle with alcoholism throughout the ordeal of collecting the facts for this book.  The beer (his only drink of choice) in Pawhuska is so limited in its variety that he frequently drives to Bartlesville – often drunk both ways – to obtain some higher quality imported beer.  There, his choice of watering holes is the Hotel Phillips “where you can use your Phillips gas card at the bar.”  It’s a bonus when reading a historic account for it to include places you’re familiar with.  This was especially fun for me, as the Hotel Phillips in Bartlesville is the place where I met my wife; at a chess tournament being held there!  When he gets back home, his alcoholism continues to be such an issue that, at one point “I called my immediate supervisor… and told her I was an alcoholic and needed help.  She helped me get into [a] treatment center.”  This was an opportunity to flesh out a moment of real personal drama; which he does in several other passages of the book on other topics, to great effect.  Not here though.  Perhaps this one was a little too painful to share, but it was a missed opportunity never-the-less. 

CJ:  I truly enjoyed the depth of his investigation. As an Oklahoma History teacher I knew of the FBI agent who was murdered, but never knew the details. Now I have more information to share with my students. This book has really set a fire for me to learn more about the Osage and the terror that overtook them.  I drove to Pawhuska yesterday to see one of my students show her goats. She won grand champion by the way. I couldn't help but wonder about the stories that are untold as I crossed into Osage county from the Cleveland side and saw the beautiful fields with sparse outcroppings of sandstone and black jack. In the show barn I looked into the faces of people I assumed were Osage and the whites wearing cowboy hats and imagined what underlying hatred might still linger between them. 

FM:  There is a comparison he makes that was nothing new to me, but made in a way that drove the point home in a way I had never considered.  He mentions that Indians tend to know their ancestry back many generations, able to describe what each ancestor was like and perhaps tell interesting stories about each one.  “White people” in America tend to know about their grandparents, maybe a little something about a great-grandparent or two, and that’s about it.  I know that my mother’s mother had a father who dabbled in poetry – I have a booklet that contains some – and that my father’s father was born in a crude shack in what was “Indian Territory” at the time (Oklahoma now – my son is a fourth generation “Okie,” a relatively rare animal at the time of his birth).  But nothing beyond that.  An Indian would probably think that’s shameful. 

CJ:  Osage county is still a sad place, from this story I would imagine it will always be burdened by the underlying pain left by such a terrible history.  I was hoping to find more books by this author, but apparently he was satisfied with his discovery that his grandmother did not commit suicide. 

FM:  I took Oklahoma History in the eighth grade.  I still remember the teacher pretty vividly; Herman Horn.  I had the impression at the time that he disliked me even more than I disliked him, although I was careful not to get on his bad side.  I think he knew I “hated” History (meaning I didn’t have an appreciation for it in my almost total ignorance of it).  If I had read this book or books like it at that age, it would have made a world of difference.  The textbook we used was like a piece of history itself, seeming to have been printed in the 1920’s.  They could do a lot worse than to throw all those musty tomes out, and replace them with this book.  I, for one, would have been much better off for it!

CJ:  Whoa! I just went to Amazon to look for more on the murders & the FBI investigation is available for Kindle! Those are now on my must read list!






March’s book: Track of the Cat, by Nevada Barr.   “A stunning mystery set against the high-country trails of the Guadalupe Mountains of West Texas, where the age-old battle of man against nature is fought with a frightening twist.”  [Should be open for comments on Chapters 1-5 by March 1st.]

Bloodland: A Family Story of Oil, Greed and Murder on the Osage Reservation (Chapters 8 and 9)

One of the points that our author makes more than once is that people, upon learning that someone is of American Indian heritage, very frequently ask what them what percentage of Indian blood they have.  His opinion is that this is, or should be considered a racial slur.  He makes the point that if you asked the same question of a Black person; asking what percentage of actual African blood they have as opposed to “white blood” that they would be justifiably outraged.   There are several distinctions being ignored here, not the least of which is the fact that many American Indians proudly claim their heritage in this way, stating that they are, for instance, one-quarter Cherokee or Kiowa.  Having grown up in Oklahoma and the Texas panhandle - unlike the author - I have a different perspective on this.  The point is still well taken, however, and perhaps such a question should be asked with caution.

The segment on his first visit to Pawhuska and the scene of the alleged suicide is particularly well conveyed.  The description of the house and the specific site in the back yard where the body was discovered lets us almost forget we’re not reading a work of fiction.  We feel the creepy feelings that he felt at that moment and can vividly see the dilapidated state of the old house.  He even envisions for us the events as they might have occurred, as if we’re watching a play acted out by ghosts.  This is a very compelling segment of the text, helping to mitigate the drier segment to come. 

The description and quoting of some of Kate’s writings about the Osages in her red velvet book have entertaining qualities as well.  (Another co-author opportunity missed?)  Her reference to the white man’s books as “Talking Leaves” as opposed to the oral tradition of passing family stories down the generations via the “Story Teller” is the kind of detail we might like to see more of.  There is, however, a fine balance taking place here between the main purpose of the book and the relevant side issues that add so much interest.   

Just to get more perspective on the geography of the story, I looked up Osage county on Mapquest.com to find where the main cities mentioned were actually located.  Pawhuska, Hominy and Fairfax are still prominent towns in the region.  Foraker is just a handful of intersecting streets and Bigheart is, apparently, a literal spot in the road!  There’s a dot on the road with the name “Bigheart” next to it, but not a single building on the spot.

 

Eventually the “history lesson” kicks in and the details begin to flow; the result of a lot of meticulous research into the “whys” and “wherefores” of the exploitation of the Osage tribe and their incredible newfound oil wealth.  In a book like this, the dry play-by-play of the sequence of events is inevitable, even necessary.  McAuliffe shows compassionate restraint towards those of us who aren’t history buffs, however, and keeps it fairly short.  And throughout this section, there is the underlying tension and drama of the age-old story of human greed and treachery towards our fellow man.  It’s sickening on several levels, but perhaps we need to have our noses rubbed in this from time to time.  We need to be reminded once again that” those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it.”  And this is one scenario that we should all hope is never seen again.





Next week's Segment: Conclusion.

 
March's book: Track of the Cat, by Nevada Barr!

Bloodland: A Family Story of Oil, Greed and Murder on the Osage Reservation (Part Two and up to Chapter 8)

FM:  I found this section of the book to be much more appealing.  The odd juxtaposition of family-history-biography and regional-anthropology-history is not as jarring here.  Some short segments resemble the style of writing that has made me think I dislike History as a subject for most of my life; an endless listing of names, dates, places and battles that I forget almost as soon as I have read them.  But through most of this narrative, the author takes the time to flesh out and humanize an assortment of high points that are thus made more interesting.   

CJ:  His description of the bastardization of Missouri could not have been more articulate. My familiarity with Interstate 44 brought visions of each of the places he described and my own contempt for the mistreatment of the beauty of the land. We all have some mental image of what our homelands are supposed to look like. His disappointment must have been monumental as he drove past all the hillbilly crap and adult movie stores. He is correct, not one sign of the Osage Tribe is visible on the Osage Trace across Missouri.  

FM:  The somewhat detailed description of one of Custer’s important victories is a refreshing change of pace from the thread of historical investigation into the past that the author is re-living.  He seems to sense when the reader – at least this reader – is getting impatient for something new, and manages to present a nice variety of approaches to his subjects.  What does the Custer story have to do with the main subject of the book?  He was led by Osage scouts, who were essential to his success; an example of how resourceful and effective the Osage Indians were in these situations.  Okay, a bit of a stretch, but intriguing reading, anyway! 

CJ:  I agree with FM, the transitions in the author's style do keep the read engaged. The Custer story held bits of information omitted from the Oklahoma History books we hand our youth. The Tribes of North America did not all hold hands and sing kum-ba-yah before Europeans arrived. The Osage were fierce rivals of neighboring tribes and did serious damage to the Old Cherokee Settlers who moved onto their land. Because of their close relationship with the French traders and command of several languages including English, the Osage were often used by whites as scouts. 

FM:  McAuliffe’s writing craft is more impressive in this section.  I liked: “A few moss-covered stones have rolled creekward, giving lie to the adage.”  I had to look at that a second time before I got it.  “I drove into a thunderstorm, or it drove into me.”  Nice descriptive phrases like this are sprinkled throughout.  Only occasionally does he drift off in an attempt to be a little too flowery in his prose.  The attempt is appreciated.  

CJ:  I like the way the author's Osage blood seems to be rising throughout the book. It brings an understanding of the passion that Natives have for saving their cultures.

FM:  His “sleuthing” work is a little more suspect.  He’s trying to justify his hunch that the “suicide” he’s investigating years after the event was really a murder. The woman (his grandmother) left her home in Kansas City and visited her old home in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.   “When a woman goes somewhere, what is the one thing she never fails to take with her?  Her jewelry.”  Setting aside for a moment the accuracy of this statement, he uses it to show that she was planning to return to Kansas City – where she had left her jewelry; and if she was planning to return, she wasn’t planning to commit suicide while she was away.  He misses the point that a woman planning suicide would likely be an exception to the “rule” to begin with, knowing that you can’t take it with you.  He makes the common error of using logic to support his theory, but ignoring it when it doesn’t. 

CJ:  The barbs thrown at the Phillips have piqued my interest. I have to do more research, but the history I've always been fed painted Frank Phillips as a friend of the Osage who treated them fairly in business deals and even helped provide some legal protection of their mineral rights. After all, Frank Phillips is the reason they have oil royalties. He drilled the first commercial well in the territory with a lease on Osage land. I have to wonder if the author has crossed into the realm of hate all whites from all generations. 

FM:  His research continues to be superb, however, bringing in not only historical facts but bits from other disciplines as well.  He reminds us that, in the movies, when someone shoots someone and wants to make it look like a suicide, they place the gun in the victim’s hand.  In reality, this is rarely what the scene would look like.  “Pistols of suicide shooters have been found a good twenty-five to thirty feet from the body”  due to the recoil of the shot at the same moment as the reflexive spasm of the arm and hand upon death.  One of those amazing little facts that might never have occurred to me, but seems so obvious after reading it!

CJ:  We are now at a point where the author describes places that I know intimately. It is interesting to hear them described through the eyes of an "outsider". To me Bartlesville is vibrant place full of history and legend, but his description gives it an air of corporate greed and sadness.  I have a feeling the sadness will deepen even more when he arrives in Pawhuska. My assumption is the pictures he has seen all come from the boom times of the 1920's. The town now is a reflection of the Osage Tribe and the injustices it has endured.

Next week's Segment: Chapters 8 and 9.

Bloodland: A Family Story of Oil, Greed and Murder on the Osage Reservation (Part One)

FM:  In the Prologue of this book, the author gives us a rather too-clear idea of how much the subject matter means to him personally.  On one level, I empathize with his feelings.  But on another level, I have always had a problem with the “look-what-your-ancestors-did-to-my-ancestors” mentality.  Yes, he’s saying that “discrimination of the most violent kind” was “directed against one half of [his] ancestors by the other half,” so he’s not really pointing fingers.  But I have the same discomfort when today’s Jews discuss the Holocaust, or today’s American Blacks discuss “reparations” for slavery.  It’s true that we should never forget how horrible different ethnic groups can be to one another.  But isn’t this veneration of the differences, the “specialness” of one’s ethnic group – at least on some level – part of the problem?  I am of Scottish descent.  I don’t refer to myself as Scottish-American; I would feel ridiculous doing so.  Heritage is interesting.  It doesn’t and shouldn’t “define” us as hyphenated Americans in any meaningful way, in my opinion, as the author of this book seems to insist it does for him.

CJ:  I agree completely with the ancestors outlook FM. Although, I think we might be a tad on the young side and influenced more by the 5 Civilized Tribes than the Osage to completely understand the point of view being expressed. 

FM:  But the over-reacting doesn’t end there.  If you were to learn that your biological mother, who had died when you were a baby, didn’t die of a medical problem, as you had been led to believe, but committed suicide, that would come as quite a shock.  But according to Mr. McAuliffe, “If there ever was a moral or ethical jawbreaker, this was it…” and it would “force [you] to change the way you define [yourself], and to realize that … the whole foundation of [your] life, had been a lie.”  Sorry if I seem callous, but I don’t think any psychologically healthy individual is going to “define herself” according to the poor choices of ancestors or parents made long ago.

CJ:  The author's mother seemed less reactive to the news of the suicide than the author. I believe that any such news in family history would be disturbing, but that extreme reaction with an ancestor the author didn't even know did seem a bit overkill. At points it seems he is trying to be a dime store novelist rather than present a historical event.

FM:  There is a nice flow to the prose, making this a very “readable” account.  And yet, for me, it’s a little hard to care about the characters.  In a work of fiction – which, of course, I realize this is not - the author’s ability to make us care about the characters is important.  While the events depicted in this narrative are interesting to varying degrees, they happen to people we know nothing about, not famous people we already have an interest in.  This author’s task is made difficult by the fact that we have never heard of these people; the historical events are what have drawn us.  Not that we’ve been misled; the rather ungainly title clearly signals us that we’re reading “A Family Story.”

CJ:  So, history lesson aside, I also agree that the author's narrative is a bit on the weak side. The writing does not flow smoothly as he jumps back and forth between thoughts. I find myself rereading thinking maybe I skipped a sentence or a paragraph. 

FM:  “Thoughts and emotions bombarded her brain like bullets in a Nintendo game.”  Ouch.  As an author, if colorful metaphors are not one of your strengths, then by all means, you should leave them out. 

CJ:  Nintendo? Really?  Despite the mediocre writing I believe this one is going to turn out to be very interesting.

FM:  This author does have other strengths.  It’s a little early in the book to determine, perhaps, but the impression here is that he is quite adept at researching and presenting the facts in a way that give us not only good information, but also a rather authentic feel for what it must have been like to have lived through the events. 

CJ:  The conversation with Bat at the barbershop drew me in. How intriguing to talk to someone who knew your ancestor well. Old people have the best history stories! His conversation was also important for us to get a perspective on the white views of Natives, and other non-white, non-protestants in the region. As much as he knew it was not politically correct thinking today, he still held racist views in his heart.

FM:  A large segment of the end of Part One is given over to Kathleen and her perspective on the story.  The implication seems to be that the prose in this section is hers, word for word.  If so, she is as good, perhaps better at it than the author, and possibly deserves some credit – at least on the cover - as a co-author!  Her perspective on how it feels to hide your ethnicity, as if it’s a skeleton in your closet, is extremely well presented.

CJ:  The historical facts presented line up with everything I've ever studied. We must remember that the Osage Tribe did not become "civilized" until early in the 20th century. Thus the pain of their mistreatment is even fresher than that of slavery in the minds of the descendants. In 1965 when the author was told he was Indian, the U.S. Government had yet to officially recognize tribes and there was much shame involved with being Native, especially if your blood was of a plains tribe. Think about your old John Wayne movies. The Osage were/are a very proud warring tribe, not favorably looked on by whites like our neighbor Cherokee.

 

Next week's Segment: Part Two and up to Chapter 8