There is so much written in the pages of history about Wounded Knee and the senseless massacre that happened there. I was going to write an article on it and it saddened me before I even tried to begin. I sat and thought about it, how to write it, what to say that has not already been said. Suddenly, I thought about a child, a young boy of about 12 and how he would have felt if he had been there at the scene. So I wrote my own (fictional) story from my heart and for the hopes of the First Peoples.
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Thunder, Child Of Hope

Thunder was out in the far end of the ravine with his little brother, Hawk, trying to keep him from running and crying to their father and mother who were in the center of the village, speaking with others to the elders. The People had been forced together to Wounded Knee Creek, where the soldiers could watch them. Thunder gradually led Hawk along the ravine, further and further from the sight of the soldiers. He wanted to work his way up to some small cave above the ravine in case they had to hide.

Big Foot was there in the village with the People. Big Foot was very old and sick and lay dying from a bad sickness in his chest. He had been a great chief and wanted only peace for his People. The elders were talking with the people, telling them that the white soldiers said they must all be taken to a place called Oklahoma. The soldiers had put the big guns on top of the hills overlooking the valley the people were in. It was a very scary time for all the People. The soldiers were going to keep the elders up all night, talking with them and asking them questions. Thunder was not quite sure what all this
was about, but he felt fear in his heart and watched his little brother closely, staying out of sight of the guns and the soldiers. All the weapons of the People were taken away from them by the soldiers.

Thunder remembered what his mother told him. "Keep Hawk with you no matter what happens and hide in the caves if you hear trouble. Follow Father Sun to the land of Thunder, for which you were named," she urged them forward with a quick yet gentle push then turned and ran back to her husband. She rushed them out of the village so fast and talked so fast, that Thunder could not stop long enough to ask any questions. He only knew things he had heard earlier in the day from whisperings and catches of words here and there among his father and uncles. Sitting Bull had been killed, he learned and Thunder felt the great sorrow of the People. Thunder's mother had given him robes and made them dress in very warm clothing, tucking extra moccasins in with the robes.

The bundle, along with his bow and arrows and a little dried meat was getting heavy and Thunder decided to head up to a cave, stashed the bundle out of sight then sat inside with his brother, listening for warning sounds. He gave Hawk some dried meat to chew on while he crept to the opening of the small cave and peeked out to see if he could spot any of his people. He could barely see any of the people to identify them, they were too far away, but he could see the big guns aimed at the camp.

There was some commotion down in the camp and Thunder heard a shot ring out and echo up the ravine, the sound reaching him and shocking him, as if a great hand had slapped him. He dashed back into the safety of the cave and held his brother near, not knowing if they would ever see their father and mother again, or even if they would live. He gave his brother some cold tea his mother had made, to help him sleep. When Hawk dozed off, Thunder crept to the opening and watched. The big guns were shouting now, like great thunder and sending devastating damage, bringing down showers of dirt and rocks on the People. He saw people falling, screaming, running, trying to get away from the thundering guns.

Then the soldiers began firing their rifles and he saw many more people fall. He saw mothers with their little ones and holding their babies, running up the ravine towards his cave. He saw them all fall as shots took them down. He could not cry or yell, he was too scared and shocked to see his People being cut down like they were animals. They were helpless, with no weapons but their own hands to fight back, but it was hopeless. They had no chance, there was no way out for them. For hours the guns kept firing and the sound of screaming grew less and less. Finally there was no more screaming, but the guns kept cracking fire.

Late that night, as Thunder still lay on his stomach near the opening, unable to watch any more, there was suddenly silence. The silence was louder than the guns and screaming had been and Thunder felt his heart was going to burst with fear and sorrow. He listened to the silence till he fell into a fitful sleep, full of nightmares.

Hours later, Thunder awoke. It was not yet dawn, but he knew Father Sun would be up soon. He gently nudged Hawk awake and bundled the robes around each of them. Hawk began rubbing his eyes and crying. Thunder held him close and told him he must be quiet, they must sneak away to safety. Thunder prayed to Great Spirit, with tears filling his eyes. No more crying now, Little Brother, not until the nights when we lay down and gaze up at the stars that guide us to new campfires.

Some day, Thunder promised as he gazed up to the sky, some day our People will know the truth of what happened here. They will also know that we will survive, we will remember and carry on our traditions and ways in wolakota (harmony and balance). Yes, we will remember, but we will not let this thing destroy us.

Thunder knew that Great Spirit and the Grandfathers would lead them and guide them to a new home and new hope. A place where there will be fires and good people. He was as sure of that as the tears streaming down his face and the great ache in his heart.

He took Hawk's hand and said, "Do not look back, let it go, wakan yega (child), we must go forward and follow Father Sun."


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