The Message of Christmas 1949

Whatever else happened in North America's towns and cities, Winter 1949 brought extreme hardship at home and abroad. I'll relate two stories here, one less well known than it's international backdrop. During the Winter of 1949, the United States was engaged in the second year of the Berlin Airlift. We often hear the words humanitarian crisis applied to incalculable human suffering. The Soviet Union's Berlin Blockade precipitated such a crisis.
     The back story of the Berlin Airlift is of power hungry governments engaging in political hostage-taking. Does this sound familiar? The difference between now and then is striking; 1949 has been called "America's Shining Hour." The Berlin Airlift stands out as a Christmas message of reconciliation and hope. More of the story of the allied effort and the story of The Candy Bombers may be found via the following links:

http://www.thecandybombers.com
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/airlift/

     One Christmas a decade ago in Denver seemed particularly bleak to me. Living in the worst imaginable Section VIII housing, I passed the door of a friend and neighbor, Verdell Youngdog. Verdell was a Lakota Sioux, whose father managed a cattle ranch on or near the Pine Ridge Reservation. As I walked by, I saw Verdell had posted a handwritten Christmas story on his door. I'll do my best to retell the story of the Youngdog family and the Blizzard of '49.
     The family awakened early one morning to find their home buried to the roof in snow. Verdell and his brothers dressed in the freezing cabin, to help their father dig a pathway to the barn. Later, over hot coffee and biscuits, the boys talked excitedly about the coming community holiday potlach. Their father worried aloud how to reach his bovine charges. 
     Over days of extreme snow and cold, cattle froze to the ground, unable to get to food or water. Food for Pine Ridge families dwindled; Verdell's mother made do with dried beans, salt pork, coffee and the makings for biscuits. Water sources were buried in snow and partially frozen. Medical supplies were non-existent, candy or gifts for children, a distant dream.
     Christmas had come and gone. In spite of heroic efforts by ranchers and hands, cattle were dying in the thousands. One dawn, Verdell awakened to an unfamiliar sound. He had no time to investigate. The noise continued off and on, while the boys dressed, did chores and ate. Curious, Verdell and his elder brother kept searching the clouds. What they finally saw stunned the two boys! Airplanes were flying overhead, dropping parachutes with hay bales, and all manner of supplies for animals and people.
     The pilots who flew over Pine Ridge started by working day and night, during their holidays, to supply residents in the worst disaster areas. The manpower, planes and supplies required resources already committed to the allied effort in Germany. In the "can do" spirit of a generation, more fortunate families provided, and pilots delivered, relief and so much more. 
     Once the supplies were distributed, the Youngdog family postholed many miles through the snow with their share of the supplies, joining neighbors, to celebrate belated holidays. They decorated a tree with hand-made ornaments, sang, told stories, and shared a warming meal in the community center. There were giveaways and, best of all, candy for all the kids!

You have to look deeper, way below the anger, the hurt, the hate, the jealousy, the self-pity, way down deeper where the dreams lie, son. Find your dream. It's the pursuit of the dream that heals you.
-Billy Mills, Oglala Lakota

     My footnote to Verdell's Christmas story is this. The Youngdog family, never recouped the losses of Winter and Spring 1949. Verdell's parents died young, and the children scattered, some coming to Boulder. Verdell, whose grandmother, Jennie Youngdog, survived the massacre at Wounded Knee, accepted everyone, regardless of color. I never heard a sorrowful, bitter or hateful word come from the man. Verdell and his sister pay it forward, even now. Verdell, who carries the honorary title of Uncle among the Lakota, makes an annual trip to carry supplies to native people along the Trail of Tears.

It seems to me, if we want America to be truly the land of the brave and the free, we must begin with tolerance, sharing and justice. It is my Christmas dream and my prayer.