Chanel hit Dallas yesterday, staging a Texas-centric fashion show for its pre-fall collection — which included Native American headdresses to accompany the “cowboys and Indians” theme. Cue the controversy.
While Karl Lagerfeld has yet to face a full-on backlash, Twitter has already begun to buzz with commentary about Chanel’s controversial decision to send the headdress down the runway. “Can’t wait for the think pieces on that Chanel Native American headdress,” one user noted.
Now, as the skeptical reactions to Chanel’s headdresses on Twitter suggest, the industry is conditioned to anticipate this kind of fashion misstep. But the backlash thus far against Chanel seems to pale in comparison to previous instances — perhaps there are those fashion fans who believe that, in this case, showcasing a Native American-inspired headdress is acceptable. What’s your take on the catwalk homage?
Three men are charged with theft for stealing $125,000 worth of copper wire from Seattle City Light by posing as native American charity workers. (AP file)
Totally gullible, ridiculously politically correct or some combination of the two? When it comes to Seattle City Light, KIRO Radio’s Dori Monson argues both in a scam involving some supposed Native American charity workers and the theft of 21 tons of scrap copper.
King County Prosecutors have now charged three men for the brazen theft. And it’s not just what they took but the way they got it that has Dori and a lot of other people scratching their heads.
Charging papers say two of the men showed up at City Hall in April clad in full Indian garb, claiming to be “Chief Little Bear” and “Joe Wolf” – tribal members they said were running an arts and crafts program for disabled Cherokee kids, the Seattle P-I reports.
The men – whose actual names are Michael George and Jim Costa – managed to talk their way into a meeting with City Light Superintendent Jorge Carrasco.
The suspects displayed copper bracelets, necklaces and other trinkets, and asked Carrasco to donate copper to their charity.
A police report says when asked for a business card, the men instead claimed they had a bus full of disabled children circling the block and needed the wire right away. So rather than vetting them further, Carrasco approved a donation and another City Light executive met them at an Industrial District storage lot and pointed out 100 pounds of copper wire they could take.
The men returned later on with a couple of rented trucks and loaded them up with far more than just 100 pounds of wire. The scammers managed to take off with 42,500 pounds of scrap wire worth $120,000.
City Light spokesman Scott Thomsen tells the P-I all the stolen wire was ultimately recovered in Fort Worth, Texas, where it had been shipped.
“Unfortunately, we were victimized by these con artists,” Thomsen says. “These guys are professional at this.”
Needless to say, Dori has no sympathy for City Light.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You fell for this and you’re assigning the blame to the fact that these guys were professional con artists?” Dori says.
“We can’t even get politicians on our air to talk to me, and because we have a culture at city hall, and everybody is so politically correct down there, they start falling all over themselves.”
Producer Jake couldn’t agree more – once he stopped laughing at the absurdity of the situation.
“This isn’t an Ocean’s 11 scenario. They just walked in with a headdress and a fake name and got them to give them everything.”
While City Light recovered the wire, Jones and Costa remain at large. Officials say they’ve pulled off similar scams around the state.
“This is what political correctness does to you. It makes you into boobs and ninnies,” says Dori. “You’re so afraid to offend that you don’t even do the slightest amount of vetting before you take people down to your secure facility because you are so desperate to help out the Native Americans and the disabled kids that you don’t even check them out?”
Tribal treaty fishing rights give Washington tribes the opportunity to weigh in on, and even block, projects that could impact their fishing grounds.(Ashley Ahearn/KUOW Photo)
About a quarter of all the coal the U.S. exports goes to Asian markets. To meet the demand, there are plans to build what would be the largest coal terminal in North America at a place called Cherry Point in the far northwestern corner of Washington state.
But there’s a hitch. The waters surrounding Cherry Point support a fishing industry worth millions of dollars. It’s also a sacred place for the Lummi tribe, whose reservation is nearby. And thanks to a landmark legal decision in the 1970s, tribes have the right to weigh in on — and even stop — projects that could affect their fishing grounds.
From the Here & Now Contributors Network, Ashley Ahearn of KUOW reports.
Coal prices are at the highest levels in months thanks to strong demand from Asian markets like China. And to help meet that demand, there are plans to build a huge new coal terminal in Washington State, at a place called Cherry Point. But the waters surrounding Cherry Point support a fishing industry that’s worth millions of dollars, and it’s a sacred place for the Lummi tribe, which has the right to weigh in on or put a stop to projects that could affect their fishing grounds.
From the HERE AND NOW Contributors Network, KUOW’s Ashley Ahearn reports.
ASHLEY AHEARN, BYLINE: Jay Julius and his crew pull crab pots up out of the deep blue waters near Cherry Point. From massive buckets on deck comes the clack and rustle of delicious Dungeness crabs in futile attempts at escape. We’re about 15 miles south of the Canadian border.
JAY JULIUS COUNCILMEMBER, LUMMI TRIBAL COUNCIL: That’s not bad.
AHEARN: Jay Julius is a member of the Lummi tribal council. His ancestors have fished these waters, just like he does now, for thousands of years. One out of every 10 Lummi tribal members has a fishing license, and the Lummi tribal fishery is worth $15 million annually.
COUNCIL: So now we’re entering the proposed area for the coal port. As you can see, the buoys start.
AHEARN: Dozens upon dozens of crab pots buoys dot the waters around us, like a brightly colored obstacle course as we approach Cherry Point.
COUNCIL: We see buoys up there.
AHEARN: If the Gateway Pacific Terminal is built, it could draw more than 450 ships per year to take the coal to Asia. Those ships would travel through this area of Cherry Point. The tribe is worried that its shellfish, salmon and halibut fishery will suffer.
COUNCIL: What does that mean to our treaty right to fish? This will be no more.
AHEARN: That treaty right to fish could play a major role in the review process for the Gateway Pacific Terminal and the two other coal terminals under consideration in the Northwest. In the mid-1800s, tribes in this region signed treaties with the federal government, seeding millions of acres of their land. But the tribal leaders of the time did a very smart thing, says Tim Brewer. He’s a lawyer with the Tulalip tribe.
TIM BREWER: What they insisted on was reserving the right to continue to fish in their usual and accustomed fishing areas. Extremely important part of the treaty.
AHEARN: Those treaty rights weren’t enforced in Washington until a momentous court decision in 1970s known as the Boldt Decision. It forced the state to follow up on the treaty promise of fishing rights that were made to the tribes more than a century before. Brewer says the phrase, usual and accustomed fishing areas, has implications for development projects, like coal terminals.
BREWER: If a project is going to impair access to a fishing ground and that impairment is significant, that project cannot move forward without violating the treaty right.
AHEARN: And in recent decades, tribes have flexed to those treaty muscles. The Lummi stopped a fish farm that was planned for the water’s off of Lummi island in the mid-’90s. The tribe argued that constructing the floating net pens would block tribal access to their usual and accustomed fishing grounds.
BREWER: And in that case, the Corps of Engineers denied that permit on that basis. There was no agreement that was bled to be worked out there.
AHEARN: But in other situations, agreements had been made.
DWIGHT JONES: My name is Dwight Jones. We’re at L.A. Bay Marina.
AHEARN: Jones is the general manager of the marina. Behind where he’s standing, Seattle’s Space Needle pierces the downtown skyline in the distance.
JONES: L.A. Bay Marina is the largest privately owned and operated marina on the West Coast. We have about 1,250 slips.
AHEARN: The marina was built in 1991 after a decade of environmental review and haggling with the Muckleshoot tribe. The marina is within the tribe’s treaty fishing area.
JONES: It was contentious, I guess, would be the right word.
AHEARN: Could they have stopped this project from being built?
JONES: Oh, absolutely. Absolutely they could’ve stopped it.
AHEARN: But they didn’t. Instead, the tribe negotiated a settlement. The owners of L.A. Bay Marina paid the Muckleshoot more than a million dollars upfront. And for the next hundred years, they will give the tribe eight percent of their gross annual revenue.
JONES: Anybody in business can tell you that eight percent of your gross revenue is a huge number. It really affects your viability as a business, so…
AHEARN: What would you say to companies that are trying to build a coal terminal?
(LAUGHTER)
JONES: I’d say good luck. It’s a long road, and there will be a lot of cost and the chances are, the tribes will make it – will probably negotiate a settlement that works well for them and will be – not be cheap.
AHEARN: SSA Marine and Pacific International Terminals, the companies that want to build the terminal at Cherry Point, have lawyers and staff members trying to negotiate a deal with the Lummi. But Jay Julias, a Lummi councilmember, laughs when I asked him how he feels about the company’s efforts to make inroads with the tribe.
COUNCIL: I say they’re funny, but I think they’re quite disgusting. The way they’re trying to infiltrate our nation, contaminate it, use people – it’s nothing new.
AHEARN: SSA Marine declined repeated requests to be interviewed for this story. But they emailed a statement. It says: We sincerely respect the Lummi way of life and the importance of fishing to the tribe. We continue to believe we can come to an understanding with the Lummi nation regarding the Gateway Pacific Terminal project. For HERE AND NOW, I’m Ashley Ahearn in Seattle. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
The House on Wednesday unanimously passed a bill by Rep. Markwayne Mullin, R-Westville, to authorize construction of a memorial to Native Americans on the grounds of the National Museum of the American Indian on the National Mall in Washington.
“I have heard from people I represent and from outside our district that the construction of this memorial means a great deal to Native Americans who served this nation and to their families,” Mullin said. “It is important that we properly honor these brave soldiers and tell their stories for generations to come.”
Mullin’s bill allows the Smithsonian museum to raise money for the memorial; no taxpayer funding will be used.
“With the recent presentation of the Congressional gold medals to tribal code talkers, it is an appropriate time for a renewed focus and gratitude toward Native Americans who served America in our war efforts and protected our freedoms,” said S. Joe Crittenden, Deputy Chief of the Cherokee Nation and a U.S. Navy veteran from the Vietnam War. “We applaud Congress for taking the necessary steps to truly honor our warriors and the sacrifices Native families have made to defend this great country of ours.”
Mullin, a Cherokee, is one of only two Native Americans. The other is Rep. Tom Cole, R-Moore, a Chickasaw.
“Throughout my life, I have always been proud of my Native American heritage,” Cole said. “I am very pleased that the legislation brought to the floor by Congressman Mullin will help facilitate construction of a memorial honoring Native Americans who served our country on the battlefield. It is only right to recognize and remember the significant contributions of those Native American warriors who served our country on the battlefield with great skill and bravery, and there is no better place than the National Museum of the American Indian.”
Tribal leaders praised the passage of H.R. 2319 and its significance to Native Americans.
“We take great pride in the long history of Native American service in the armed forces of the United States,” said Chickasaw Governor Bill Anoatubby. “We owe all these brave men and women a debt of gratitude for what they have done to protect our freedom and our way of life. This memorial is one way we can express our appreciation for their service and sacrifice.”
“Congressman Mullin understands how we as Native People revere our warriors,” said John L. Berrey, Chairman of the Quapaw Tribe. “His dedication to Native Americans is truly from the heart. As the Chairman of the Quapaw Tribe we are honored to have Mullin as our representative.”
“The Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma applauds the passage of Representative Mullin’s bill, honoring the dedication and sacrifice of Native veterans,” said Choctaw Chief Gregory E. Pyle. “H.R. 2319 authorizes the Native American Veterans Memorial for tribal veterans from all tribes and all wars. Some of these warriors were fighting for our country before they were even recognized as American citizens. I am very pleased with the passage of this bill and very proud of all the Choctaw veterans and the many other Native soldiers who will be represented by this memorial.”
In a few short hours here in Irvine, California, Cirque du Soleil, Totem, performers will charge onto their stage with dramatic makeup, costumes and music.
Behind-the-scenes and inside the “Village on Wheels” as it’s called, there is a flurry of activity.
Look above and you’ll see trapeze artists perfecting their moves.
Down below, artists stretch on thick gymnastic mats and tell jokes, while others visit the medical tent to soothe their muscles through massage.
The makeup team is busy painting faces as costumes are being rounded up by the performers.
At the makeshift lounge, there are couches and a flat-screen tv, where performers can watch the previous night’s show and make the necessary notes.
It’s all in a day’s work at Totem, Cirque du Soleil’s show about the evolution of humans.
We caught up with one featured Latino-Native American performer, Eric Hernandez, the show’s Hoop Dancer. Hernandez hails from Covina, California, so Totem’s show this week is a homecoming of sorts for Eric.
Eric has been hoop dancing since he was 10 thanks to his uncle Terry Goedel, a world champion hoop dancer.
And although Eric never imagined he’d being hoop dancing for a living, one look at his performance and you can see why Cirque du Soleil came calling.
MAHWAH, N.J. — The past week has been unsettling for the Ramapough Mountain Indians, who live on this northern stretch of the Appalachian Mountains that overlooks the Manhattan skyline and wealthy parts of Bergen County. The new movie “Out of the Furnace,” featuring a star-studded cast that includes Christian Bale and Woody Harrelson, also features numerous negative references to the Ramapoughs. They include a fight-ring subplot.
Keith Van Dunk, 27, a member of the tribe, took a break from feeding the chickens at his father’s house up on Stag Hill here on Sunday morning and gestured at the surrounding woods.
“You see any fight ring up here?” he said. “Absolutely not.”
Tribal leaders and local elected officials held a news conference last week, speaking out against a film that they claim portrays them as trashy backwoods bumpkins involved in drugs and violence. One Ramapough henchman in the movie even bears Mr. Van Dunk’s last name.
The references constitute a “hate crime” that has “stained the community and stirred up animus” by increasing marginalization and stigmatization, said the Ramapoughs’ chief, Dwaine C. Perry, 66, in an interview.
In the past few days, he said, there had been several instances of Ramapough students in local high schools being picked on by classmates who had seen the film, including one case in which a teacher had to intervene.
At a showing of the movie last weekend, someone hurled slurs at a Ramapough woman in the theater, he said. There was also a fight at a local mall that tribal members said was stirred up by the film.
“The film contains ugly stereotypes that stain you for life,” Chief Perry said. “The undertones are racist and personal. It’s a hate crime when you look at the psychological impact on the kids.”
Contacted for comment, the film’s production company, Relativity Media, released a statement saying that the film is “entirely fictional” and not “based upon any particular person or group of people.”
“As is the case with most films, the filmmakers conducted research and drew upon their own personal life experiences in creating an original screenplay, and the story and the characters are entirely fictional,” the statement read.
Scott Cooper, who directed the film and co-wrote the script, was unavailable for comment Wednesday night. But a Relativity Media spokesman said that John Fetterman, mayor of Braddock, Pa. — the other main setting in the film — had nothing but praise for the way the movie portrayed Braddock. Mr. Fetterman called it a respectful depiction that was “eloquent, forceful and honest,” in a guest column he wrote for Variety magazine.
Several characters in the film have last names that are prevalent Ramapough names, including De Groat and Mann. The film was not shot in the area, but the Bergen County Police Department is portrayed as the local authority.
Mr. Van Dunk said he refused to buy a ticket to the film, but he consulted the IMDB website and saw that several cast members were listed as “Jackson White.”
The term “Jackson White” is a slur used by outsiders to deride the Ramapoughs, Mr. Van Dunk said, referencing the tribe’s descent from Native Americans, whites and runaway slaves who settled in the mountains in the late 18th century. The term dredges up decades of a long, ugly history of discrimination and marginalization.
“To me, it’s like calling a black person the N-word, and my father is black,” said Mr. Van Dunk, who works for a moving company in Hackensack. “In high school, kids would call me a Jackson White in the hallway, and if I stuck up for myself, they’d say I’m living up to the stereotype.”
Before the opening of the film, which was the third-grossing film in the country last weekend, The New York Post published an article saying that it depicts the Ramapoughs as “New Jersey hillbillies.” The article characterized tribe members as unsophisticated, intermarrying types who are ridiculed, who hunt and eat squirrels, and who drive all-terrain vehicles on dirt roads.
Darrell Sapp/Post-Gazette Tommy Joseph, a member of the Tlingit people of southeast Alaska, uses a reverse bent knife to carve a 16-foot totem pole that will be permanently installed at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History.
The story of a raven, two fishermen and a salmon was emerging from the trunk of a Washington red cedar last week under the skilled hands of master carver Tommy Joseph. Today, he will complete the carving and on Saturday a public “Celebration of the Raising of the Totem Pole” will be held as it’s installed permanently in the Carnegie Museum of Natural History.
Mr. Joseph, a member of the Tlingit people of southeast Alaska, was born in Ketchikan and lives in Sitka. He began carving the totem pole, which was commissioned by the museum, on Nov. 26 in the R. P. Simmons Gallery, where he will be until 5 p.m. today.
Darrell Sapp/Post-Gazette Tommy Joseph, a member of the Tlingit people of southeast Alaska, talks about his totem pole sculpture.
The totem will be unveiled this weekend at the entrance of Polar World: Wyckoff Hall of Arctic Life and the Alcoa Foundation Hall of American Indians. The all-ages event will begin at 10:30 a.m. with Tlingit song and drumming by musician Morgan Redmon Fawcett. Following the celebration, Mr. Fawcett will play Native American flute, and guided tours of Alcoa Hall and other activities will be offered (included in museum admission).
The 16-foot tall totem pole is a blend of traditional and contemporary practices. The formal qualities of the bold stylized components, and the fact that they memorialize a story told by a Tlingit elder, are timeless. Mr. Joseph carves with hand tools that would have been recognizable generations ago, including an adz, gouges and knives, some of which he made. However, the vivid paints are latex.
When the museum commissioned the totem pole, it requested a story that included a raven but was otherwise unrestricted. That gave Mr. Joseph, 49, an opportunity to fulfill a project that had been on his mind for three decades.
“They told me I could pick any story. This story has never been told before. When I first heard it, I wanted to tell it,” Mr. Joseph said last week.
The description he gave the museum was of two young men on a hunting trip:
“While out on the open ocean with a storm approaching, a young man spotted a large seal and fired at it. He was happy to see that his aim was true, and he piloted his boat over to haul in his catch. The young man grabbed the seal by its tail, but it began to thrash about. So as not to lose it to the ocean waves and the approaching storm, he bit down on the tail, gripping hard between his teeth while grabbing the seal’s flippers with his strong hands and arms.
“In a boat not far away, the young man’s hunting partner and Clan brother was watching this entire scene unfold. He fired a shot into the seal, saving the catch. The hunt was a big success, and both men were able to bring food home to their families, along with an adventure story that would live on for generations to come.”
But there’s more, a personal connection. The men in the boats were Mr. Joseph’s father and the elder who related the story in the mid-1980s. Mr. Joseph’s father was lost at sea when he was 6.
“The museum wanted a traditional raven story,” Mr. Joseph said. “But what is a traditional raven story? It’s a story an elder told. Raven is my Dad’s moiety [descent group].” Mr. Joseph is of the Eagle Moiety.
The raven, at the bottom of the totem pole, appears in Tlingit legends, myths and creation stories. The middle figures are the hunters in dugout canoes. The top figure, a dog-salmon, completes the circle of life, the seal eating the salmon and the people, the seal.
Darrell Sapp/Post-Gazette One of the painted “trappings” on the Raven portion of the totem pole Tommy Joseph has been commissioned to carve for the Carnegie Museum of Natural History.
“Alaskan natives still eat seals today,” Mr. Joseph said. “They’re part of our subsistence lifestyle.
“A totem pole is a visual tool for telling a story,” he explained. “The whole purpose is to be a reminder of the story. [Subjects include] migration, individuals, groups of people, events, history, clan history; grave markers, mortuary poles that memorialize people.”
Mr. Joseph first became infatuated with wood when he made a halibut hook out of yellow cedar in a third-grade woodcarving class. His art includes Tlingit armor, masks and bowls in addition to totem poles. He sells them at his Raindance Gallery in Sitka along with work by other Alaskan native artists.
Funded by a Smithsonian visual artist grant and a USA Artist Fellows award, he traveled to 20 museums and collections in the U.S. and abroad in 2009 to study Tlingit armor. The Alaska State Museum, Juneau, presented the first exhibition of Mr. Joseph’s armor this year. In July, he gave a TED (Technology, Entertainment, Design) talk on constructing Tlingit armor.
At his gallery, he teaches carving in affiliation with the University of Alaska Southeast, Sitka Campus. “I always hope there’s going to be some of our young people who will be interested. But to keep [the tradition] going, I’ll teach anybody of any age who wants to know, as long as they’re old enough to work safely.”
Darrell Sapp/Post-Gazette Tommy Joseph works on the details of his totem pole.
For 21 years he ran the wood studio of the Sitka National Historical Park’s Southeast Alaska Indian Cultural Center. While there he observed leading wood conservators from the National Park Service and now he conserves, restores and replicates totem poles for the Park Service and other institutions and individuals.
“It’s a huge honor for me that [this totem pole] will be in the Carnegie Museum forever,” Mr. Joseph said. “I have the coolest job around. I get to go to work every day and make stuff, and share it with everybody.”
Tlingit artifacts including baskets, halibut hooks and objects relating to the totem pole creation process may be seen in the Simmons Gallery today through Friday. Information: 412-622-3131 or www.carnegiemnh.org.
Post-Gazette art critic Mary Thomas: mthomas@post-gazette.com or 412-263-1925.
All kinds of platitudes are applicable here, like, “Lead, don’t follow” or “To thine own self be true.”
Notah Begay III, perhaps the most ubiquitous Native American in contemporary society, subscribes to many of them—“The whole thing comes full circle,” says the good-looking man who tells a rags-to-riches story about becoming the first Native American on the Professional Golf Association Tour.
Now an NBC golf analyst, entrepreneur and philanthropist, Begay grew up with the sport after being introduced to the game by his father. How he got from a scrawny kid youngster in Albuquerque to a resounding success on several fronts should provide initiative to other young Natives chasing a dream.
“At the age of 6, I started collecting and recycling aluminum cans to raise enough money to buy a bucket of balls. By age 9, still a skinny little Indian kid, I introduced myself to the club pro and told him I’d work for nothing if I could practice on off-hours. From then until I went to college, I’d show up at 5:30 every morning and put in a couple of hours performing meaningless tasks like emptying trash, sweeping floors and parking golf carts. Then I’d get to practice from 8 a.m. till 6 p.m. every day—at no charge. I thought it was the greatest job in the world, because I got to hit as many golf balls as I wanted.”
By age 17, he was the No. 1 junior golfer in the country (with friend and later Stanford college roommate Tiger Woods at second). “There weren’t a lot of brown guys out there at the time, just me and Tiger,” he says.
Graduating with a degree in economics, Begay went on to immediate professional success, winning four tournaments before he got injured. Then depression set in with a stint in jail for drunken driving. “Sometimes fate presents opportunities,” Begay said. “I landed on my feet and made the appropriate changes in my life to become better.”
Today the 41-year-old star gets to talk about the sport he loves as a commentator as well as designing new golf courses—like the Pascua Yaqui tribe’s 18-hole course set to open next month in Tucson.
Begay’s fame and fortune allowed him to expand his horizons through entrepreneurship (KivaSun Foods) and philanthropy (The Notal Begay III Foundation, a.k.a. NB3F), both directly connected with Native health.
In 2010, he and a partner invested in a company selling bison meat, “a challenging project,” he says, and one that again called on him to persevere.
“I thought because I was Notah Begay that I could do anything, and I found out quickly that’s not the case. In the extremely competitive food industry, nobody cares how far you can drive a golf ball, they just care if the product tastes good and is priced right.
“There were some dark days with the company nearly at the point of being down to our last dollar. We hung in there, solved problems and formed industry partnerships [sourcing bison from the 57-tribe InterTribal Buffalo Council]. Today we’re looking to surpass $5 million in sales and should approach copy0 million in sales in the next two years.”
Which brings us to the concept of cultural full-circle. “All the stuff in the for-profit world transferred into our non-profit work with the NB3 Foundation,” he says. A percentage of KivaSun sales gets donated to NB3 to support Native American health efforts through sports and education. “This is a lifelong commitment for me,” Begay says. “I’ll be doing it for decades to come, because that’s how long it will take to provide services to our Indian communities to address childhood obesity and the diabetes epidemic.
“If we don’t start making changes in our lifestyle choices, our people’s lifespans will continue to get shorter. Native American lifespans are the shortest of any U.S. minority group, and it doesn’t have to be that way.”
Asked to offer up something the general public doesn’t already know about him, Begay says he tries to set an example for others by being a good role model. “Marriage and fatherhood are not static commitments, and I work diligently to be a better husband and father. Home and family is the starting point of my day—it’s where I get my strength. And if I can’t set a good example within my own home, how can I help anybody else’s child?”
The man-who-made-it offers a message to Indian children trying for their own successes: “Don’t limit your dreams. Educate yourself, take care of yourself, push yourself to fulfill your goals.”
MARYSVILLE, Washington (December 11, 2013) – It is that time of year again – Marysville Fire District asks you to help keep the wreath green!
Starting on November 28 as you drive by any of our fire stations you will notice a giant wreath covered in green bulbs. It is part of our annual “Keep the Wreath Green” program.
As part of the program, the green bulbs are changed to red whenever there is a structure fire in the Marysville Fire District. The bulbs are changed to white when a firefighter anywhere in the United States dies in the line of duty.
It is the our way of reminding people that although there is a lot to keep people busy during the holiday, fire prevention should be on our minds every day.
The Keep the Wreath Green program runs through New Year’s Day, and will serve as a reminder to those who pass the fire stations, to keep this holiday season a safe one.
For information about how to keep your family fire safe this holiday season, visit our website at www.marysvillefiredistrict.org.
BELTON, MISSOURI – As if the first sign was not bad enough, an attempt to fix an obvious racist message on the portable sign at the local Sonic Drive-In in Belton, Missouri on Sunday was not much of an improvement.
The Native News Online ran a story yesterday and an Opinion on the inappropriate racists sign late Sunday night. At the time, it was not known to the Native News Online staff that there were two versions of the sign in front of the Sonic.
Version I:
“‘KC CHIEFS’ WILL SCALP THE REDSKINS FEED THEM WHISKEY SEND – 2 – RESERVATION.”
Apparently, someone told the author of the sign, it was offensive to American Indians.
Version II:
“‘KC CHIEFS’ WILL SCALP THE REDSKINS
DRAIN THE FIREWATER — OUT OF THEM”
The second version – while slightly blurry – was posted on a Twitter account. Social media has kept this story alive.
The Native News Online staff contacted Sonic Drive-In earlier today for confirmation that photograph was legitimate.
The response from Sonic’s Patrick Lenow, vice president of media relations for the 3,500 chain:
“There were two offensive, wrong messages posted. Our understanding is that the first was displayed for about 15 minutes and a poor attempt to rectify it was posted for about 10 minutes, so both were part of the same incident. Both messages are unacceptable and contrary to the values of our company. Sonic and the local owner are sorry that such unacceptable messages were posted for any duration and are working through a process to prevent any type of reoccurrence.”
When the Native News Online yesterday contacted Mr. Lenow and Robert Stone, franchisee of the Belton Sonic, neither of the two revealed there were two different messages.
Mr. Stone indicated he would not fire the employee who posted the sign, but would educate his entire staff about what is appropriate.
