NANTICOKE INDIANS
CURSE UPON NEW JERSEY
ROUTE 55
SACHEM WYANDAGA
ABSTRACT
In 1983 New Jersey began
building a short stretch of State Route 55 over land long ago
occupied by American Indians confirmed by state archaeologist. The
Lenape Indians had used the tract of land some 3500 years before the
birth of Christ until the white man showed up some 5000 years later.
The state denied that the
Lenape Indians had ever buried any of their dead there.
Not so said Sachem Wyandaga
a Nanticoke Chief and Medicine Man. The day construction began he
issued a warning “ Stop vandalizing Native American graves or be
punished”. Then he began praying to Ancestors.
A foreman on the
construction crew, Charles Shoemaker, told that when Wyandga put a
curse on him, his freezer broke down. Shoemaker then developed
ulcers and had to leave his job.
Reports by the Press tell
that a 34 year old crewman was killed at the site when hit by a dump
truck, another, an inspector , fell dead on a brain aneurysm,
another healthy workman succumbed with cancer, and a mysterious wind
blew a worker off a bridge. Other workmen, some of their families,
fell victim to serious ailments. A van carrying five caught fire for
no apparent reason.
The construction company,
John Rouse & Company, lost millions on the project and almost
went bankrupt. A lawyer for Rouse, John Land, said “ I am not
superstitious, but if you believe in 'curses', this one sure did the
trick” .
Sachem Wyandaga , the name
means “chosen one”, is standing next to his pickup camper,
looking over a pile of brick, he is about 67 year but not looking
so. He is retired and just back from fishing. His fight with the New
Jersey Tansportation Department is an example of wide differences
that exist between Indians and White Men. Looking at the same thing
they see it different. White men look at words on paper and Indians
live with logic and oral traditions handed down generation to
generation.
It is hard to believe that
'real' Indians live in our midst, they live, dress and behave just
like the whites but when together , in buckskins and feathers, form
a circle, holding hands and pray to “The Great Spirit” them
become like their ancestors or hundred of years ago. Today Wyandaga
is sorting blocks and bricks, his second wife, less than half his
age, is raking leaves, in the camp ground which is in the middle of a
forest near Elmer. He is building a patio as a car drives up.
Lighting his pipe he lets the driver know he cannot talk too long as
the pation needs to be done. Around his neck is a 'medicine bag' and
two others on his belt. He says all 'traditional' Indians ware
'medicine bags' from the day they are born, in the bag is dust from
the earth at their birth place, a sliver f gold, silver and maybe
copper. Later are added herbs, roots and 'other things' necessary to
the health and religion of the wearer. Another bag, he says is his
money bag and yes we Indians also need money.
Three feathers are fit in
his straw hat which he takes off and shows his shaved. All 'medicine
men' shave their heads. Then he lays the feathers in the palm of his
hand. Pointing to the feathers he says this one is a turkey feather
for the Turkey Tribe. The one in center is a golden eagle feather,
and is only allowed to be worn by an Indian. The next on is a guinea
hen, it's decorative. Next on the hat is a lock of blond hair, a
scalp, and yes I did kill Nazis for it. I earned twelve of them in
Europe during WWII.
Last he hands over a
necklace of bear claws which he admits the bear gave up under
protest.
Still laying the bricks,
blocks or whatever, he said that it needs to be understood that the
ill fate of the builders of the road not a result of any curse even
though the Nanticokes were known for witchcraft and the like by
other tribe, curses were not one of the traditions.
When asked it he was sure
there were graves, he replied, “here's the thing, there was no
Indian village, where, within 500 yards, there was not a burial site,
so, anyplace there was a village there was a grave site, I knew this,
told them so, and if they destroyed the burials, that I as Chief had
not alternative but to call down a curse. They did not listen to me.
They laughed. It did not prevent what happened”. Out of breath, he
drops the last brick into place and wipes his brow with the outside
of his hand as all Indians did.
Wyandaga began his learning
the ways of the Shaman from his grandmother when he was five. His
father, deceased at the Battle of Blood Creek in south central
Pennsylvania in the 1920's, a historically obscure event. From
central Pennsylvania he moved to Philadelphia with his mother and
grandparents, where he was a shoeshine boy, moving every year or so,
to New Jersey, Delaware and back to Philadelphia. When WWII came
about he joined the Army Airborne in Germany. While there he studied
under the GI Bill, things that struck hid fancy, engineering,
theology. Returning to Philadelphia he tried to live like the white
man but could not make it work. He tried to reject his Indian
heriatge and drank a lot and ended up in a hospital someplace.
Calling on the Great Spirit he got the message to go back to the
Indian ways. That was 20 year ago. Now, Wyandaga calls himself Chief
of the Delaware Nation, 40,000 Indians who make up 12 Tribes.
ABSTRACTS
FRANK ROSSI
PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER, OCTOBER 4 1987
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