Chapter 34

I called the Flagstaff CBS affiliate and told them to come out to US 191, and take the cutoff to a small town called Burnside North. And then to stop when they got to the police blockade. Sorry but there wouldn’t be an interview. But it would be a bigger story. They had their equipment set-up by 8 PM at the blockade, but it would probably be too dark for their cameras. Maybe they could get some footage for the camera by the headlights of the vehicles.

It was 2030 when they showed up. I used military time since this was turning out to be a military operation. THEY were the US Government parade of cars and vans.

I was tuned in to Linc at the time. He and Sam Washburn were sitting in a pair of SUVs, blocking the road that ran from Burnside proper northeast, that was US Highway 191, the cutoff ran northwest into the Navajo Desert. They stopped at the blockade. One guy got out of their cars and approached.

Linc and Sam, in their full regalia as Deputy Navajo Police, got out for a parley.

“Sorry, fellas, road is closed. This is a private road,” said Linc.

“See here, officer,” said the man in the suit. “I have orders from the U.S. Gova’mint. We’re going to pick up some dangerous material.”

“Well,” Linc countered, “WE have orders from the Chairman of the Navajo Nation. This road is closed. There ain’t no dang’rous material ‘round herabouts.” I loved the way Linc could put on anything from country twang to refined Englishman at the drop of a vowel.

“These orders have the force of US law. Now step aside and let us through.”

“Cain’t do that,” Linc said. “You must’a passed a couple of signs that said ‘Welcome to Navajo Country. You have left the United States.’ If ya don’ b’lieve me, go back and look. US law don’ mean shit here.”

“I have U.S. Marshals that say it does.” He gestured at the car and two US Marshals got out, badges clearly in place.

“How many men, Sam?”

“Fifty-two, Linc.”

“Dep’ty Washburn saiys,” Linc addressed the man in the suit. “That there are fifty-two men, with M16s, in the desert – surrounding you. They say that US law don’ mean shit in the Navajo Nation. Now you say it does mean shit. Either way, you jes’ turn your parade around and leave.”

The Marshals looked around. “I don’t see any men with M16s, sir,” the shorter one said.

Sam picked up the mic on his car, and said, “One burst, in the air please.” It came out through the loudspeaker in his SUV. The air exploded with about fifty-two three-round bursts of gunfire.

The Marshals pulled their sidearms and crouched against their SUVs.

“Sheet, Sam. That was a lot of gunfire,” said Linc. “Now, Mister. I calmly suggest you turn yourself around and git! Or I’ll have to place you, and the Marshals, and all the other folk in your six car parade, under arrest. We’ll let the court – the Navajo court – sort it out in the mornin’.”

The man in the suit had hunkered down during the fusillade. He stood now, and said, “The United States Attorney will hear about this.”

“You wanna use my phone to call him now? It’s a tad late, but he’s prob’ly awake. I can wait before arrestin’ y’all. Don’t wanna deprive y’all of your right to counsel.” I think Linc was actually enjoying this.

They turned off the road and mostly got back on it, going the other direction. Some got stuck in the sand, but you gotta expect that with city folk driving off-road like that. With some pushin’ on the stuck cars, eventually they all got up on the road again, and they headed off into the night.

“Well that was fun,” Sam said. “OKAY FELLAS. Everybody but First Squad can go home. Squad Two will take over in the morning.” He turned to Linc. “I’ll send the recording of everything over to Window Rock. You can go for the night. I know you old married folk have to get your rest.”

“I’ll give you younger, single folk a kick in the arse any time you want,” Linc replied. But he eventually got in his Jeep and headed down the road toward home.

Sam dialed me on his secure line, and like a good girl, I let him tell me all that happened. I didn’t want him to know that I already knew. So, I let him tell his war story, with all the embellishment included.

I went out of the cave and called out to the unseen troops, hiding behind a bush or something, “OKAY! The Feds have gone for now. Y’all can go home.”

I heard from the desert hills behind the cave, a voice said, “Ahh ... It’s okay. Some of us will stay. It’s a nice night fer sleeping outside.” In the darkness, I didn’t see anybody leave, but in a few moments I heard several horses clip-clop back to Burnside North.

I heard a woman’s voice holler, “G’nite Lexi.”

“C’mon Chas. We’re going to go home for the night. We’ll be back tomorrow, though.”

...

The eleven o’clock news on CBS sure made news that night. “Standoff in the desert. A confrontation between some agents of the U.S. Government invaded the Navajo Nation tonight just after sunset, as you can see in the footage. They were turned away by two Navajo Police Deputies and an unknown number of men in the desert. The Deputies, a Mr. Lincoln and a Mr. Washburn, said there were 52 of the men, but I didn’t see ANY of them. But I sure heard their rifles shooting in the air. That’s the sound of the gunfire you can hear. The Government men turned around and left. We’ll be following up on this and other happenings in the Navajo Nation as the story develops. This is Fred Norris for Channel 10, CBS news, where the score is Navajo 1, U.S. Government 0.”

I called the station right away and asked for Fred. I identified myself as a representative of the Navajo Nation, and they put me through to Fred. He was on his cell phone, heading back to his home.

“Hi, Fred. This is Alexis White Owl. Remember me? That was a great story. You’ll be famous. Want to get ANOTHER story for tomorrow? We have set up a meeting for you and Chas White Earth in the Burnside North High School auditorium at noon. Can you make it?”