Southern spirit: Dance of thanks

Southern Living, Nov 2002 by Ford, Gary D

At a Comanche reunion in Apache, Oklahoma, drumbeats set the rhythm.

As I arrive at the Comanche Nation Building, I first hear the drumbeats and high keen of native tongues. These are the sounds of a family reuniting, giving thanks for their lives, their country, and their heritage.

The Whitewolf family of the Comanche tribe and many of their friends gather near Lawton, Oklahoma, for the 30th Esa Rosa Whitewolf Thanksgiving and Anniversary Powwow. The celebration that stretches from afternoon to early morning combines a feast of turkey and cornbread dressing with Southern Plains Indian dancing--all to the steady pounding on a drum the size of a table.

This assembly is arrayed in circles within circles. In the center of this community building, 20 men sit shoulder to shoulder and sing while pounding a cowhide that stretches across a 38-inch drum. Twenty female singers, some holding babies, surround the men. Larry Liles, a Comanche from Lawton, sips coffee nearby and nods at the drum and singers. "Some say the drum is a gift from the Creator," he comments. "They call the drum 'grandfather,' and the singers around it, 'grandsons."'

Friends and Family

Around the singers, gourd dancers shake feather fans-- some with small American flags attached. Finally, encircling the singers and dancers, guests take seats in chairs or on benches spread with colorful blankets.

Along with Comanches, friends from other tribes join the celebration, Regina Whitewolf says. Her husband is Gordon, whose parents--Howard and Thelma White-- wolf (both 82 years old)--founded this event as a powwow, thanksgiving, and reunion. The purpose, Howard says, "is to keep the Whitewolf name alive." The family traces its lineage to Comanche chief Esa Rosa (1810-- 1900). "We're celebrating," Gordon adds. "We're thankful that we're alive. We're thankful that we're Indian."

Celebrities sparkle among the crowd. Lanette Tahchawwickah, 19, Comanche tribal princess, strolls regally about and chats amiably with people young and old. She wears a buckskin dress, along with a traditional Comanche woman's apron and moccasins, only slightly adorned with beadwork. Other tribes represented include Wichita, Caddo, Apache, Kiowa, and Cherokee--all who add their own stylistic accents to this feast of American Indian finery on the dance floor.

To Honor With Dances

One dance follows another, including honor dances. Each one marks a birthday, recognizes an elder, or salutes a son or daughter in the military-modern-day Comanche warriors defending all of us in America.

In time, the rhythms of drumming, dancing, and singing-at first cacophonous to an outsider-seem restful and soothing as they seep into the soul. Perhaps that's why babies, even among the women's circle of singers, drift off to sleep. Larry smiles. "They hear the beat of the drum," he says, "and they hear their mothers' hearts."

While driving away as midnight approaches, I realize the throb of the drum means more than just the percussion of sticks on a circle of cowhide. It is the heart of an American family, beating under the blanket of an Oklahoma night.