Bicycling the trail trod by thousands of moccasins 175 years ago, Michael Black feels the pain of the Cherokee along the Trail of Tears. He crossed through Benton County last week, finishing the journey in Tahlequah, Okla., this weekend.
“It’s been overwhelming. It truly is a trail of tears … I’ve cried,” Black said. “Nothing could have prepared me for the pain.”
At Pea Ridge National Military Park, Black set his bicycle against a pole marking the Trail of Tears that crosses the park indicating the more than 700 miles already traveled - the 60 miles yet to go. He pulled out a shell, placed sage grass in it, sat cross-legged on the path and litthe grass. As the smoke rose, he waved it upward praying, for those who died along the way.
More than 4,000 people died on the arduous trek from the Carolinas to Oklahoma in 1838-1839 during the Cherokee removal.
“They lost their little children and their elderly,” Black said.
“So, they lost their future and their past. Their culture has had to fight to preserve.”
“It’s been an emotionally draining, as well as physically draining, trip. They’re (the Cherokee) such a beautiful people.”
Biking 35 to 75 miles per day, Black had traveled more than 700 miles by the time he crossed the park and headed south to Springdale. From there, he crossed western Benton County to Tahlequah.
Black says that all of his life he had friends who were native American.
“I’ve been sweating with them,” he said, explaining that he’s been on spiritual journeys with them.
Black grew up in Southern California. His great-great grandmother was a native American woman from Arizona who married his great-great-grandfather, a black man from California, he said. He is self-employed and works on home restoration projects.
“I had the story in my head, but I didn’t understand it.”
“One day, on my way to the dump I saw an auto route sign about the Trail of Tears. I lost my breath.
I knew - knew - I had to bike it. Driving it would be too easy,” he said.
“I’ve tried to stay as true to the original path as I could,” he said. A friend rowed him across a river to start the journey.
“This is a spiritual journey. It’s not about me. It’s not that I wanted to. I had to. I have to keep spreading the message about the people who lost their lives there.”
Three weeks before he began the journey, Black said he came upon a circle of Cherokee youth riders who had gathered in a circle to pray before riding the Cumberland Trail.
“I prayed with them. I totally intruded on them, but it’s OK; I didn’t make a fuss.”
“When I run into the descendants, they are people who knew that their great-great-grandparents walked this trail. They don’t want them to be forgotten. They (the Cherokee) were a peaceful, loving people.
There is no way to make it right, but we can find healing and understanding,” Black said.
Around his neck hangs a round rock given to him by a native American medicine women in California.
“She told me it would always protect me. She said I’m supposed to feed and wash it,” he said.
“I’ve found myself on this trip. I’m more humble; more confident. I have more hopefulness now,” he said. “I have a little more understanding. I’m a more serene, rational person. I want to try to help build understanding - to give not take, to be a builder of life.”
News, Pages 1 on 07/24/2013