I Sh*t You Not - A Visit With My Brother

Now the main thing to remember at this point is this guy lived out in Stick Indian, Sasquatch territory for several years and married into the tribe, so he knew the gossip I didn't know about all that. Plus he is a collector of stories.

I managed to distract him or rather get him focused enough to get a couple of stories out of him about all of that.  I believe him mostly.  I'd say he is a 90% reliable witness.  At least about that material.

There is a dirt road out there called Maple that he was told not to go up, but of course he didn't think it was actually a problem, so he went for a hike up Maple. He says if you see a skull and crossed bones you have to go there. I can understand that. 

When he came to, he was in some tribal guy's house wrapped in a blanket by a large fire with a huge lump on his head.  This Indian had gone looking for him and found him out cold in the rain.

There were places out there that even young strong men would just not go.

The girl he married out there grew up on the Res and remembered being left alone with younger siblings while her parents went to shop or whatever.  She remembers things of some sort climbing on the roof of the house and frightening herself and the little kids.

There were the drifts of mist that the Indian guys said were their ancestors coming to look at them.

***

  Same guy, both photos.  He was just 69 years old. He had it all. He could play the saxophone well.  He was a powerful runner.  He was intelligent and interested in language and art.  He was quite good looking when young.  He had the character flaw of being too lazy or selfish or whatever to do what other men had to do.  He did not want to work and he liked to get high.  He became this way at about 16. Also, my parents spoiled him.  He was the boy.

Yeah, we were laughing and rolling our eyes at him a bit. He is a natural story teller and I could not begin to do justice to all the Truth And Veracity he was laying down. I think some of it happened.  Many narrow escapes.  Strength triumphing over danger and possible death. Commercial fishing stories.  Car stories. He knew everyone in the scene.  I did not.  I was busy.

It was funny, but with a bitter gloss.  I kept this guy alive when he was a little kid, a school aged boy and even when he was a little older. I look at him and remember a little boy in the woods singing big epic boy songs and knocking down little rotten trees and manly stuff like that.  I remember what a cry-baby he was when he lost his pocket knife and I had to find it for him. He had little dusty boy hands.  He was as sweet as a kid could manage to be. 

So I hugged him and God blessed him today. What else can ya do? 

My God, look at the nose on him.

Why Not? Just an epic song to go with it.

PS

He also mentioned glimpsing the "other side" at one point in his strange career.  An opening with like feathers or something around it, and people talking.  This is about all I remember of mine.