BETTY RODGERS INTERVIEW

   

   

   [BEGIN SIDE 1]

   

   This is Brad Cole from Northern Arizona University.

It's July 14, 1999.  We're visiting with Betty Rodgers,

who's going to tell us about her life history and her

experiences in the Indian trading business.  This is

part of the United Indian Traders Association Oral

History Project.  [Lew Steiger is running the recording

equipment and makes a few comments.]

   

   Cole:  Betty, if we could just start with the

beginning, when and where were you born?

   

   Rodgers:  I was born at Lukachukai.  We were on the

eastern part of Arizona.  It's kind of in New Mexico

and Arizona both, the mountain range.  And then from

there, my Navajo family then, after I was a few years

old, came to Kayenta, where the Wetherills established

their home.  They were the first traders there, and

they built a nice little trading post there for the

Navajos to trade and stuff, you know.

   And then I was taken from my Navajo people.  Then,

the government just went out and just took kids to put

'em in school and so on.  I don't know why they picked

me.  I was just a baby.  But I was placed at Tuba City

is where we were all placed at that time.  They had a

matron for the girls and one for the boys.  I was there

'til I was about four--goin' on four, I imagine.  They

were very mean to us.  When we'd run away, or even

speak a word of Navajo, they'd just more or less beat

us.  But anyway, I never did like it there.  They just

treated us like prisoners or something.

   My mother then came to visit the Navajo kids,

because she thought the world of the Navajo people,

just like they were her own, and so on--or she was just

a Navajo herself, really.  She came over there and

found that they were treating the Navajo children real

bad--the boys, too--and they were just beatin' us and

such as that.  So she thought, "Well, this is gonna

stop!"  So she went to Washington and told the

president what was goin' on among the Navajos, and so

she put a stop to all that.  Everybody at Tuba then was

fired and ran off and everything else, 'cause they just

knew that if they were gonna abuse the Navajo people

like that, they just didn't need to be there.  So when

I was goin' on that summer, then, a lot of the Navajo

kids....  I don't know then, really, how they did.

They didn't just send 'em home like they should, like

go to school and then you'd go home in the summers.

But they didn't do that with us, they just kept us

there at Tuba and just treated us real mean and fed us

slop and all kinds of stuff.  So Mother put an end to

all that, 'cause she just knew that they were really

being very abusive to all the children.  So finally

everything....

   Her daughter then--we called her Sister Wetherill--

so she became matron to the Navajo girls, all us Navajo

kids.  She took care of us, 'cause she spoke the Navajo

language pretty well herself.  She lived among the

Navajos for so many years, 'til she learned our

language.  So she would come there and took care of us

and all that.  So when summer came, my foster mother

then, Mrs. Wetherill, said, "I think I'll just take

this little girl home."  And that was me.  I thought.

"Oh!"  Of course I was kind of shy and scared, you

know, of the white people then.  She asked me if I

wanted to go home with her, and of course I didn't just

right off say yes or nothing.  She just said, "Well,

you can just go home with us any time."  So after a few

weeks or so, one day she had sent for me, and there was

her nephews, sons-in-law, and different ones were

driving trucks, you know, going through--carrying mail

and carrying supplies and different things through the

reservation then.  So she told these guys to pick me

up.  So I just....  One day one of 'em--Kilcrease

[phonetic spelling] was their name--and Dallas was the

young man that came.  He said, "I'm takin' this little

Navajo girl home.  I'm taking her to Mrs. Wetherill at

Kayenta."  So (chuckles) I thought, "Well, I guess it's

all right," so I just went with him.  And so it took

us, oh, just a few days to get there, because of the

muddy roads, you know.  Then, the roads were just dirt

roads.  Oh, we'd get stuck and get in a terrible

rainstorm and get in the mud and get stuck.  Oh, gee,

we had a heck of a time gettin' there, but we finally

made it.  And that's when I started living with the

Wetherills then.  That was way back when I was four

years old.  (chuckles)  That's how I started living

with the Wetherills.

   Well, they raised me then, and took care of me, and

treated me just like one of their own.  She didn't have

no children of her own, young, just a kid like me.  Her

kids was already grown men and women.  She had the boy

and a son.  So I stayed there and she had another

Navajo girl.  Her name is Frances and she lives in Show

Low now.  So it was her and I that were raised by

Mrs. Wetherill.  She tried to raise other Navajo kids,

but they either died or didn't want to live with them

or something.  But anyway, we were very fortunate, me

and her.  And I lived with the Wetherills until I

learned new....  All kinds of great people.  There were

all kinds of artists, writers, painters, and movie

stars.  So many people like that, that I had met from

the time I was growing up there, and it was really

something, being with those people, because my foster

father then used to take 'em on trips to the Rainbow

Bridge, and he'd make a ten-day trip out of it, of

course.  It took that long, going to the Rainbow

Bridge, and, oh, just different parts of the

reservation that was interesting, like Monument Valley

and Betatakin, Keet Seel ruins.  Oh, they used to just

marvel over that country, and go to all those places,

you know, and seein' things.  Of course, all on

horseback.

   When we got of age to go to high school....  We went

to grade school right there at Kayenta, we had a

teacher there that taught.  We could bunch up a bunch

of little Navajo or white kids or white or Indian or

whatever--about ten, always took about nine or ten of

us to make a school, you know.  So they hired a teacher

there.  Well, in fact, a woman that was a teacher--she

and her husband moved to Kayenta--and he worked for the

government there.  We had it made then.  We had this

wonderful person that came there and taught us all of

our grade years, 'til we finished the eighth grade.

Then we took correspondence for our first year of high

school, which was right there at Kayenta, 'til we

finished that, my sister and I.  I called her my

sister, being she and I were raised together.

   So then we had to go to somewhere to go to high

school then, and we went down by--my foster sister was

living in Mesa, and so she volunteered and wanted to

take my sister and I there, so we went to Mesa High

then, and started our regular high school years.  My

sister, of course she graduated from high school.  And

me, I met my husband, and that was the end of my high

school year.  (laughs)  So I didn't finish school.  But

anyway, they were such wonderful people.

   Then from there, I met my husband, and we decided to

build a trading post on the reservation.  So that's

when we went to Cameron.  My husband found this spot,

and he thought that was a good place to have a trading

post.  There were a lot of Navajos there all the time.

Of course the trader at Cameron, he didn't like it at

all for us to have a post there, you know.

   

   Cole:  Who was that?

   

   Rodgers:  Hubert Richardson was his name.  So he had

this little trading post there.  Well, it wasn't

little, it got bigger all the time--and it still is big

now.  But anyway, he never did like us bein' there.

But we went ahead and built anyway, and had a lot of

Navajos trading with us and so on, all those years.

And then I raised all five of my children there, and

they just ran all over the country there.  That's where

they grew up, rather.  And that was in 1945, when we

first started our trading post there.  Now, the dates,

I might have 'em wrong, but somewhere around there,

anyway.  We had the trading posts and we ran them all

those years.  Our children were in the same situation

that I was when I was a child.  We taught 'em until

they were grade school age.  So we went to Flagstaff

then, and put 'em in school there.  But anyway, the

Buck Rodgers Trading Post kept a-goin' all the time.

That's the way my life was.

   

   Cole:  How did you meet Buck?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, he was at Kayenta.  He was haulin'

freight and carrying mail and all that stuff for

Kayenta Trading Post and different places around there.

And he hauled freight, and that's how I met him, and

that was in 1934 or 1935.  No, let's see....  Now, see,

my dates are....  I can't even think how that goes now.

Well, for goodness sakes!  Yeah, late thirties, it was,

when I met Buck.

   

   Cole:  So you were back from Mesa for the summer?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yeah, we came home every summer.  Then

my sister went on back to Mesa and graduated from high

school in....  Let's see, it was 1933.  My foster

sister then was killed in a car wreck, and so we had to

move, didn't get to go to Mesa anymore, because no one

to take care of us, to be with.  So she died in 1933.

In 1934 and 1935 is when I knew my husband.  And then

my sister just went back and graduated from high

school, and then Sister died in 1933, so she came home.

(pause)  I can't think what else is....

   

   Cole:  Did you ever work in Wetherill’s trading post

at all?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yes!

   

   Cole:  What kind of things?

   

   Rodgers:  Just taking care of the dudes.  We took

care of people, waited tables, and cleaned their rooms

and all that kind of stuff.  There was really nothing

to....  A lot of work, I mean, but it wasn't--they just

had rooms.  The house was built with a long hallway,

and there was rooms, about three on one side, and then

there was another long extension built, and there was

three rooms there.  And we met Zane Grey.  That's how I

got my name, "Zane."

   

   Cole:  Oh, really?

   

   Rodgers:  Yes.  I knew Zane Grey, his daughter, and

his wife, his son.  They came up there and he went on

trips to Rainbow Bridge with my dad.  And he wrote a

lot of his books about my foster father, John

Wetherill.  Oh, I just knew all kinds of great people

like that, you know, and it was really fun to be around

'em, know 'em like I did.  I don't think I learned

anything in school--I just learned my education by

bein' around great people.

   

   Cole:  Do you remember any of the others?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yeah!  There was Harold Bell Wright.

He was a great writer.  Knew Jimmie Swinnerton, who was

a "Krazy Kat"....  No! that's Little Jimmy, a

cartoonist.  Then I knew George Harriman [phonetic

spelling], who was a "Krazy Kat" cartoonist, and

"Skeezix"--he wrote "Skeezix."  And oh! I just knew so

many people:  movie stars like John Wayne and all those

people were around then--Henry Fonda.  Of course that's

later years.  When I was a young girl, they weren't

even thought of then.  Or they might have been, or just

startin' out or something.  But I didn't know them like

I did--just in the last twenty years, or maybe, yeah,

thirty--twenty or thirty years, I guess--later I

learned, I knew about them.  I'm eighty-three!

(chuckles)

   

   Cole:  You're doin' real well.

   Rodgers:  Yeah, gettin' old.  That's why my memory

isn't so good anymore.

   

   Cole:  Did you ever get to go along on the trips?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, no.  No, Dad would take off on his

pack trips and stuff and be gone for about thirty days,

and come home and get ready for another long trek.  So

that's all he did, run back and forth.  For about

thirty years he did that.

   

   Cole:  And that was John?

   

   Rodgers:  John Wetherill, uh-huh.

   

   Cole:  Describe him for us.

   

   Rodgers:  Well, he's an old-timer.  He came from

Pennsylvania as a young man.  Then he came to Mancos.

My foster mother, she traveled from Nevada....  Oh,

heck, I used to know the little town where she was born

and raised.  She came through in a covered wagon with

her parents, through the reservation, went down through

Tsegi Canyon, and went right up that canyon and went on

over to where she established.  Then she went over to

Monument Valley, and her first trading post was at

Oljato.  Mother went on into Mancos, Colorado, is where

she went.  That's where she grew up 'til she was about

ready to....  As she went through the reservation, she

thought to herself, "I'm comin' back here one of these

days and build me a trading post, and this is where I'm

gonna stay."  She did that, all right.

   So she came back from Mancos--she and her kids and

her husband--and they came across the San Juan, came

into Oljato, and built 'em a little trading post there.

And they traded with the Navajos there 'til 1908.  She

came in 1902 to Oljato.  Then her husband went to

Gallup.  They had to get their freight and supplies and

everything from Gallup.  So they had to freight from

there, go over there with a team and bring back their

supplies and everything.  So one day they stopped where

Kayenta is now, up on kind of the side of a hill.  And

there was lots of water runnin' out of a spring, just

runnin' down the little side of the hill.  So when he

went back over home, over to Oljato, he told Mother,

"Oh, I found the best place in the world.  You and I

could have really a wonderful trading post."  And he

said, "There's lots of water there."  See, they didn't

have any water over at Oljato.  They found a little

place right close to a wash where they kind of cleaned

out to get water, just enough to drink and that's about

it.  And he said, "This is where we're gonna go, is

over to this new place at Kayenta.  I want you to go

get everything all packed up, and we'll go."  So they

did, they packed up all their stuff and went over there

to where they built their trading post.  Do you know

where the Wetherill Inn set up on the hill?  That's

just the hill.  Underneath it, they go around the road,

and there's a trading post there now.  And right back

of it was Mother's old place of business, home and

everything.  It just makes me sick to think that they

did away with all that.  They could have left something

in memory of my foster parents.  All there is up there

about the Wetherills is a burial up on the hill, now.

   

   Steiger:  Who did away with it?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, those people that run it.

   

   Steiger:  The new owners?

   

   Rodgers:  Yes.  Yeah, they could have at least left

a building of some kind in memory of them.  That's

where they first established their home.  The Navajos

then--old Hoskinini was the last chief of the Navajos,

and he just fell in love with my foster mother.  He

thought she was just the greatest person in the world.

So when she was over there at Oljato, I have pictures

of when they first met the Navajos.  They were just

comin' in, in droves, and they thought that they were

gonna come to kill 'em and stuff, you know--like they

did over to Oljato.  That's where she met Hoskinini.

And she walked out there, when she saw them all

gathering out there, and Mother didn't have no more

fear of those Navajo people than nothing.  And so she

said some Navajo words to 'em and walked out there, and

God, they about fell (laughter), they just about passed

out, because a white woman, you know, speaking their

language, they just couldn't figure it out.  So she

started talkin' with 'em, and tellin' 'em where she was

from and why she was there, and all that.  As soon as

Daddy come back with all the supplies and everything--

that's the flour and the sugar and the coffee and all

that good stuff, and canned goods and different things

that they had for the trading post--why, they just

thought....  Mother then said she was gonna have a big

meal for 'em, or powwow for 'em.  And so she got

several different Navajo women to make the bread, and

they butchered a beef--or bought a beef from a Navajo.

And they made a great big ol' pot of stew and all that

good stuff.  And so these Navajo women made fry bread

and all that, and they just had a big ol' feast out

there.  And that's how she got acquainted with all the

Navajo people so well.  She just walked around among

'em and talked Navajo to 'em and stuff, and they just

thought that was so great.  And she did the same at

Kayenta.  When she got over there, why, she had to meet

all those Navajo Indians, you know, 'cause she didn't

know none of 'em from Adam then.  She got acquainted

with all of 'em, and they just fell in love with her

and they thought she was the greatest person.  She

became their lawyer, their priest, and their counselor--

oh, just everything.  They just thought she was the

greatest person.  Whenever they had problems or

anything, they were always over there, wantin' to have

her settle anything that was botherin' any of 'em, you

know, and divorces and anything like that, you know.

She took care of everything for 'em, and it was legal

to them, of course.  And she just lived among 'em for

fifty years, just doin' that kind of stuff.

   Cole:  Did they move over to Kayenta like in 1910?

   

   Rodgers:  Well, 1908 is when they went to Kayenta

then, and established there.  And that's where they've

been for fifty years, with the Navajo people, Mother

had.

   

   Cole:  And originally they just built a trading

post?

   

   Rodgers:  They had a trading post there, and they

just got bigger.  Trading post as well as a dude ranch.

   

   Cole:  Do you know when they built the dude ranch?

Was it right away?

   

   Rodgers:  Well, it was right there, then.  The whole

thing was all built together.  And then they made the

trading post, and they dealt with the Navajos as well

as taking care of the dudes.  So everything was just

right there, all together, all those years.  So one day

they had a bright idea that as they were gettin' older

and my husband and I were already settled at the Buck

Rodgers trading post, and there were others....

Frances, and she got married and left.  Of course their

son, their own son and daughter, they were already

married and left there years before.  And so they

really didn't have anybody but just the two of 'em,

besides a partner they had, that did a lot of the work

for 'em and stuff, you know, takin' care of....  And he

cooked for 'em, and he done all kinds of stuff for 'em.

(aside about rain)  Well, anyway, that was my life,

____________.

   

   Cole:  You were sayin' your foster parents had a

great idea.  Did they sell Wetherill Inn?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yeah, they....  Well, Mother was kinda

ill, and they were gettin' pretty old, so they decided

to sell the trading post.  And they sold it to the

Bennetts.  I forget what his first name was.  Anyway,

that was all in modern years, of course.  But he was

running the old Warren Trading Post up about a mile, I

guess it was, up on the hill from where the old Kayenta

establishment was.  So they sold that place to this

Bennett guy.  Then after that, whatever happened to it,

which was he sold it then--he sold it to part of....

Their son's runnin' the business.

   

   Cole:  Blairs, yeah.

   

   Rodgers:  Blairs, yeah.  They sold it to them.  And

I don't know who's runnin' it now.

   

   Cole:  Where did your parents go?

   Rodgers:  Oh, the folks left then, and they went to

Skull Valley, Arizona, down by Prescott.  And they went

off over there, and then Mother passed away.  Their son

then was supposed to be takin' care of it, and he got

to be an alcoholic, so that was the end of everything

for them.

   But my husband and I kept runnin' our place of

business, even during the war, when there wasn't hardly

anything to buy, you know.  So we went over to....

Well, my husband owned a little farm ranch, a ranch

home--took care of that place for some people.  And we

just couldn't make any money with our trading post

then, so we just left some people to take care of it

for us there at the Buck Rodgers--take care of that for

us, and we just went over around Flagstaff, the other

side of Flagstaff, and took care of an old ranch home

for a man, and took care of his stock, and oh, whatever

else he had around there:  chickens and I don't know

what-all.  So we did that for part of the forty--well,

during the war.

   

   Cole:  Describe your trading post in Cameron.  What

was it like?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, nice.  It was nice.  We had a trading

post, and then later years we decided to have a café in

there.  So we had a little café.  And my husband

decided he was gonna have some cabins, so he built some

cabins.  So we took care of the tourists as they came

through, and had a little place where they could eat.

That went on for about, oh, until we sold it.

   And then we had another place of business up here at

Vermillion Cliffs.  He decided he wanted another place,

so we bought the Vermillion Cliffs.  Then we had eighty

acres there of deeded land.  So as time went on, we

just took care of the trading post.  Then we had some

of our kids run the other trading post, the Buck

Rodgers.  Oh, my husband was somethin' else!  He

decided he wanted another place of business, so he goes

to that place, Antelope Hills, just this side of

Flagstaff, down the bottom of the hill this side of

Flag.  So he built that place.  Darn him.  I don't know

about him.  (laughs)  But he liked just to have a lot

of businesses, I guess.  So that's what we did.  And he

passed away in 1975, and I've been alone here ever

since.  It's my life.

   

   Cole:  What was he like?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, he was an old cowboy from Texas--

wonderful guy.

   

   Steiger:  Was it your idea to start a trading post?

   

   Rodgers:  No, it was his.  And my foster father,

John Wetherill, he kept encouraging Buck.  Well, then,

having a place of business on the reservation, a white

person--then, it was very touchy, because if the

Navajos liked you, why, it was fine.  If they didn't

like you, they'd tell you about it.  Well, the Navajos

really didn't know my husband, and me, being a full-

blood Navajo myself, why, they just didn't know about

it.  They just didn't know whether they wanted that

white man in there or not.  Well, I guess they didn't.

They gave us heck all the time we were there.  But I'd

just go tell 'em off when I felt like it.  Yeah!  I

said, "I'm just a Navajo, and I'm just as good as you

are, a full-blood, and I have a right on the

reservation."  So that was the end of that!  They

didn't bother us anymore.

   I think it was Mr. Richardson down there.  He

thought the Navajos, the ones he liked, could always

come in his trading post and get what they wanted and

everything.  Besides that, Mr. Richardson was not on

the reservation.  That place was just apart that never

was on the reservation.  I don't know how you call what

kind of land it was, but anyway....  So he really had

it where we couldn't even do anything for a long time.

But after the Navajos realized that they couldn't run

me off--they tried--they just said, "No more," and that

was it.  So I stayed there as long as I wanted to, and

if I wanted another trading post, I got it.  But I

never wanted no more businesses on the reservation--

heck with 'em, I was tired of fightin' with 'em.

   

   Cole:  Did you folks have to get a lease from the

tribe?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yeah.  Yeah, you had to get a lease,

so many years.  When that expired, you had to go get

another lease--renew it, if you wanted to stay there.

But me bein' a Navajo, I could stay there forever.  But

they didn't have that much sense to know.  They really

gave me a hard time, I'll tell ya'.  But I stayed there

as long as I knew it was right.

   

   Cole:  Was most of your business there from tourists

coming through, or from the Navajo?

   

   Rodgers:  Well, both.  Mostly--in the summer, of

course, the ones that were goin' through in the summer,

they were always stoppin' there.  They ate there.  We

always had a lot of nice, good business.  Then we

started Antelope Hills, which is way another--I guess

it's twenty-five, thirty miles back, just down below

the hill there.  You've noticed it as you came through.

   

   Cole:  Yeah.

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, that used to be ours.  But we just

had cabins and the big café there, and later on, a bar.

We ran that for about four or five years, and we got

tired of that, so we sold it, and then went to

Vermillion Cliffs where we had already bought that

place and ran that place.  We had a bar there, and a

café.  And then I thought it was about time we were

retiring from all these darned cafés and stuff, so my

husband and I then decided to get over to the deeded

land, eighty acres.  So we decided we'd start sellin'

that land, so that's what we did:  sold two, three

acres to different people.  Now it's just that place

just the other side of Vermillion Cliffs where you see

all the trailers and everything.  And all those guys

now, they are river--a lot of 'em are working with

those river companies there, that go down the river.

And the others are--oh, they just wanted a home there,

so we just sold 'em by the acres to those different

people.  So that was the end of that.  My husband died,

and so here I am.

   

   Cole:  Do you remember what year, about, you bought

Vermillion Cliffs?

   

   Rodgers:  I didn't tell you no years, did I?  Oh,

yeah, it was in....  Well, my husband, when he was

freightin' through the country, then, he met these

people--Maggie and Rielly Baker [phonetic spellings]

were their names--that ran Vermillion Cliffs.  And that

place was just built out of cardboard and old raggedy

material, like old lumber and all that kind of stuff,

you know.  But that lady, she made the most wonderful

pies and all that.  She always got the truck drivers

all interested, they stopped there all the time.  They

ate for fifty cents!  They spent the night there for

fifty cents, and that's all she charged 'em.  So one

day when my husband went by their place, my husband

said, "Rielly and Maggie said, 'Oh, we'll be so glad

when somebody comes along here and wants to buy this

place.  We're gettin' so tired of it, you know.'"  As

if it was such a big thing!  Anyway, for nothing, why,

she said, "Why don't you buy it, Buck?"  And he said,

"Oh, now, I just might do that."  (laughter)  Like a

dummy, he sure did.  So he bought that place from

Maggie.  He said, "Besides this place of business,

there's eighty acres here of deeded land that you can

have," she told him.  And oh, gosh, he thought that was

a big thing, you know.  So we bought that place.  And

then we just done the same there as we do all of our

other places.  We had a motel there, and of course my

husband and dad [did] a lot of fixin' and all that.

Had a Navajo over there that done the rock work--came

down.  So they did the rock work, stoned the walls.

Buck put, of course, decent material in there, like

plyboard and good lumber.  It's still standin' there

today, just the same as it was when we had it.  I don't

see anything that's different about it, those guys that

run it now.  Just as long as the food was good.  My

husband always fed everybody family-style.  We had a

long table.  Tourists or anybody, just come in, "Oh,

why don't you sit down?  We've got food here."  So

they'd just sit down and eat like they were one of the

family.  They just thought that was the greatest thing

in the world, you know, the tourists.  So that's what

we did.  That was in the forties, fifties, sixties, and

up to the seventies, and then we decided to get away

from all of it, so we started buildin' our home on the

deeded land.  That's where my husband and I were when

he passed away.

   So, that was the end of my life--end of my business

life, I mean!  (chuckles)  I just came up here in 1975.

Let's see, 1977 I moved up here to Page.  Yeah, my kids

wouldn't let me stay down there all by myself, so I

could have such a beautiful little ranch home.  My son

and his wife, I've had 'em come down from Montana--

that's where they were living.  So they came down here

and they've been here ever since.  Told 'em they could

take care of the ranch home and live there.  So I just

gave it to 'em.  They sure made a beautiful place out

of it.  You'll have to come down sometime and go over

there and let you see it.  It's really nice.

   

   Cole:  What's your son's name?

   

   Rodgers:  Joe.  Joe and Sharon.  Yeah, they're gonna

move back down there pretty soon.  They're lettin' some

people that always brought their trailer from Florida,

have it parked there.  He works for the river rats up

at Cliff Dwellers, about a mile from Vermillion.  Now

they're just livin' up there.  So Sharon said, "Well,

you guys just stay in my house and take care of it."

And that's what they're doin', just takin' care of the

house and livin' in it just like it was theirs.  They

thought about sellin' it at first, but now I guess

they've decided not to.  I said, "Oh, Joe, I just don't

like the thought of you even thinkin' about sellin' it.

It's been such a wonderful place for all of us."  And

we always have a family reunion there every year.  My

other son in Texas is Tom.  So we're gonna go down

there this next year, next June, and have a family

reunion at his home, down in Lubbock, Texas.  So that's

the way we've been doin' with them every year.

   Now, what did I leave out?  Ask me some more

questions.

   

   Cole:  Were either you or Buck ever members of the

United Indian Traders Association?

   

   Rodgers:  No.

   

   Steiger:  I've got a question.  When the government

took you away from your natural parents, did you ever

get to go back and see 'em?

   

   Rodgers:  No.

   

   Steiger:  You completely lost track of 'em?

   

   Rodgers:  Well, yes, until about, oh, 1937, 1938--

1938.  My Navajo mother came to see me.  She came to

Kayenta, and she came in my foster mother's home.  I

guess I was up at my little house, takin' care of my

baby and stuff.  I went down to see Mother most of the

time through the day.  So I walked in the house and I

saw this Navajo woman sittin' there on the couch as I

walked by--walked right by her to find Mother, see

where she was.  So I met her in the dining room, and

she said, "Betty, do you know that woman sittin' in

there on the couch?"  And I said, "No."  I just figured

Navajo people come and go in Mother's home all the

time, you know.  I said, "No, I don't know her."  So

she went in there with me and said, "Well, that's your

mother, Betty."  And I said, "My mother?!"  "Yes,

that's your mother."  So she got up and stood up and I

went over there and put my arms around her, and she

cried.  Of course she was just some other Navajo woman,

is all I knew, you know.  I had my baby, so I got

better acquainted with her and everything.  So I let

her hold Betty, who is my oldest child--she lives over

here.  She's sixty years old now, Betty is.  I said,

"Here's my baby, you can hold her."  Oh, she was so

proud of that!  And she was sittin' there and cryin'

and holdin' that baby in her arms and all that stuff.

She talked to me and told me....  Well, we were tryin'

to figure out how many years I had been away from her,

you know.  Of course I had to have Mother Wetherill

tell me what year and when and all that stuff--the

years.  And I couldn't, 'cause I didn't remember then.

And now those are all way back years to me.  But

anyway, I had fun visiting with her and everything.  So

she spent the night.  She had her little camp outfit,

she and her other kids had brought her there.  We got

acquainted with them.  So they camped out in the yard

that night.  She decided to stay, I guess.  She was

there for a day or two, and we visited and talked.

Then I couldn't speak the Navajo language as I did

later.  I just decided I'd better learn the language

back, because I couldn't....  I could understand it

pretty good, but I just couldn't carry on a

conversation with anybody.  So I got along with her

fine, and she told me where she lived and how long it

took her to get there to Kayenta and all that stuff.

So we had quite a visit.

   Oh! I told her to wait until my husband come back.

He was in Flagstaff gettin' freight and haulin' mail,

and I told her all the things he was doing.  And she

was surprised to see he was a white man.  (laughs)

Anyway, she got along with him, and I told her to come

up to my house where I lived.  So we went up there.  I

fixed 'em some food, and that's where they spent the

night, out in my yard.  My house was about as big as a

cracker box, then--just about as big as this one room!

(laughs)  We didn't have any money to build nothing.

But anyway, that was the starting out of my life with

Buck and my baby, Betty.  So that was the end of my

story, unless you want to think of something else I've

left out.

   

   Steiger:  Just comin' back to the government takin'

you away like that.  Was that typical?

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, they were just doin' that.

   

   Steiger:  They wouldn't return kids to their parents

or anything?

   

   Rodgers:  No, they didn't even bother about it.  No.

And they give us hell when we even spoke (Steiger:  The

language.)  Yeah.  "You came here to learn, to learn

the white man's way," they'd say to us.  Why, here we

were just ignorant little babies from the reservation.

Heck, scared of 'em and everything else, you know.  And

that's why a lot of the Navajo today, the elderly

Navajo people, said, "That's the reason we were afraid

of the white people, because they were mean to us."

That's all they knew then, you know.

   

   Steiger:  And then Mrs. Wetherill came and she saw

what was goin' on at Tuba City, and she went all the

way back to Washington?

   

   Rodgers:  Yes, she went to Washington.  She told

whoever was the president then.

   

   Steiger:  So at that time she went on the train to

Washington, D.C.?

   

   Rodgers:  Yes, she went on the train.

   

   Steiger:  Just to do that?

   

   Rodgers:  Yes.  She says, "They're not treating my

Navajo people right on the reservation at Kayenta where

I'm established.  And I want it stopped, now."  So it

was stopped.  Everybody got fired, kicked out--

everything.

   

   Steiger:  And after that it was better, as far as

school goes?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yes!  They started treatin' the

Indians like human beings.  We got treated better, we

got better food.  [Before] they gave us rotten old

apples and stuff like that to eat.  The food was

absolutely rotten, and they made us eat it or get beat

to death.  Yes!  That's the way they treated us.  Yeah,

when Mother Wetherill came to visit, she went over to

the boys' dormitory and one boy was gettin' beat.  He

was just bein' horse whipped.  He was tied to the

bannister, and he was being beat.  Mother went in there

and she said, "What is the meaning of this?!  Stop it

right now!" she said to them.  "Right now I want it

stopped!"  And they looked at her like, "who in the

heck are you?" you know.  She said, "Is this what goes

on all the time around here?"  "Yes, this boy ran away,

and he had no business doin' that.  And he won't try to

learn anything."  And oh, this man just raved on.

"Won't try to learn anything."  "Well, this isn't the

way to treat him, just because he did all that."  And

said, "Just seemed like that's the only way," the guy

said to Mother.  Man! she just plowed right into him.

I never can think of his name.  Tried to tell somebody

about that the other day, and I just couldn't think of

his name to save me.

   

   Steiger:  So the year that happened, that was....

   

   Rodgers:  Way back in my young life, which was way

back in, oh, I must have been about....  Well, I was

there at Tuba when I was at least three, two-and-a-half

or three years old.

   Steiger:  So that would have been in the twenties?

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, early twenties.  And I just turned

eighty-three just this last June 15, and I had a heck

of a time tryin' to figure out when I was born, what

year, and all that stuff.  Just goin' by Mother

Wetherill’s records, I was baptized at St. Michael one

of those years.  So I got Father Berard [phonetic

spelling] was this old gentleman's name.  So they found

some of his old records, and they finally found one of

me.  They said that I was either born in 1917 or 1916.

So I just took 1916.  (laughter)  Well, my foster

mother said I was born in 1915.  I always went by her

record.  But I knew that that was the only way to

really know, would have been from Father Berard,

because he christened my sister and I there then.  So I

thought that was the only record, really, I had.  Of

course I could have made the government over at Window

Rock, today, go through all the darned files and really

know what year I was born.  I don't even have a birth

certificate.  Today I don't have one.  So that's what I

go by.

   

   Cole:  So you moved up to Kayenta probably about

1920?

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, when the Wetherills took me in.  All

the early twenties, all through the twenties, I was

goin' up to Kayenta and back and forth, for a year or

so.  We used to laugh....  Don't you turn that on, now,

when I tell you this.

   ….

   

   Rodgers:  But anyway, back and forth.  And then one

day when I was about four--goin' on four or was four--

why, Mother said, "Heck, we might as well just keep her

here, and we'll just take her.  My sister wanted to

keep me, and Mother wouldn't let her.  She said, "No,

you have your own family to start, and you don't need

to be bothered with a little Navajo kid.  And Fannie

needs a partner anyway," so she took me in the family.

That was her other Navajo girl.  Mother took her when

she was eighteen months old.

   

   [END TAPE SIDE A; BEGIN SIDE B]

   

   Cole:  This is Brad Cole, it's July 14, 1999.  This

is Tape 2 of an interview with Betty Rodgers.  Betty,

before I forget, what was your foster mother's first

name?

   

   Rodgers:  Louisa Wade Wetherill.

   

   Cole:  I forgot to ask you that earlier.

   

   Rodgers:  And just John Wetherill was Daddy.  Daddy

John.  All his grandkids called him Daddy John.  They

didn't want to ever be called "Grandpa" and "Grandma."

Isn't that funny?  (chuckles)  So that was always Mama

Lou, was her name.  Louisa Wade.

   

   Cole:  And then with all your years in the trading

posts and stuff, what kind of changes did you see

happening?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh!  Well, we turned it over to my

daughter in....  Oh, heck, I don't remember the year.

Well, anyway, the trading post burned down.  You know,

as you came by, you can see the new building there at

Buck Rodgers.  It burned down and she built it back up

and started again.  And then her lease had gone out, so

she wanted to have a new lease, and those dumb idiots

over at Window Rock wouldn't let her have it.  Did you

hear I said dumb idiots?  (laughs)

   

   Steiger:  Got that clearly.

   

   Rodgers:  I hope they know that's the way I felt

about 'em.  I wouldn't ask 'em for nothin' ever again.

   

   Steiger:  (inaudible, regarding equipment)  I

remember....  Now, just to make sure, my memory of the

Buck Rodgers Trading Post was it's where that Speedy

Store is now?

   

   Rodgers:  I guess that's what they call it now.

   

   Steiger:  There on that hill, that new convenience

store?

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah.

   Steiger:  That was a big store, wasn't it?

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, it was pretty nice, you bet.  We

built cabins to it, too, you know.  And the whole works

burned down.

   

   Steiger:  When you started, was it that bullpen kind

of deal where there was three counters around, and you

had to hand the customers all the goods?

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, over the counter.

   

   Cole:  Has that changed over time?

   

   Rodgers:  Well, now it's just a store, regular store

like you go in Basha's and all those stores around here

now.  It isn't a trading post like thing at all.  I

mean, they don't have rugs hangin' on the walls to sell

and all that kind of stuff, like we had.  Jewelry in

the showcases--no, they don't have any of that no more.

Not in that place.  Everything's commercial.

   

   Cole:  When you would trade with Navajos, would the

women usually do most of the trading, or the men?  Or

was it a mixture?

   

   Rodgers:  Usually women.  Yeah, it was always women,

'cause they did throw a rug that they had just made on

the counter, or throw an old sheep pelt up there on the

counter, and stuff like that then.  It was really an

old trading post.  We tried to deal with 'em just like

back in the old times.  We even bought wool from 'em.

And all their makings, all their stuff that they wanted

to sell....  They didn't make jewelry much then.  And

then pawn, of course, they'd bring in their beautiful

jewelry, you know, they wanted to pawn for so much

money for now, 'til they had time to pay you back and

get their jewelry out and such as that.  We had a

little pawn shop to put all their stuff away in a safe-

like thing.  So we just kept 'em until they decided

they wanted 'em, and we'd give 'em so many days or

weeks or months or whatever, to keep it for 'em until

they were ready to come back and take 'em out.  We

always bought lots of wool from 'em during shearing

time.  Of course they did away with a lot of the wool

that they had.  A lot of it they kept to make their own

rugs and stuff with, you know.  And pieces of jewelry

that maybe they had kept for years they would bring in

and sell to us.  We were always happy to get old

jewelry from 'em, because a lot of white people like

that old stuff, you know.  When they'd have a bracelet

or a ring or something that they decided they didn't

want anymore, we just kept it and put it in our

showcase to sell if they didn't want it anymore.  I

think they're supposed to get all their jewelry then.

The government's, or Window Rock's policy to keep any

pawn for sixty days.  And you could make a deal with

'em by sayin', "Well, I'll keep it a month, or two

months, or a year, or whatever, you know."  We just

done everything our own way.  We never did pay any

attention to what the government would tell us how to

run it, or Window Rock would tell us.  So we just got

along with the Navajo people just great, and they all

thought the world of Buck.

   Then, like I told you, when they tried to run me and

my husband off, why, the Navajo people just had a fit

about it.  So there was always a councilman from every

district, and so we were down there, had a meeting,

why, they'd all go to Window Rock to be on the council

and say what they wanted to say and make their laws,

whatever they think is right and so on.  And we always

had a lot of Navajos tell them that, "We want Betty and

Buck there.  We like 'em, they do us right, and they're

honest with us, and we think a lot of 'em," and so on,

you know.  They just go on like that.  So that's what

saved our necks a lot of times.  (chuckles)  But if

they don't like ya', why man, they'll boot ya' out.

   

   Cole:  Did you ever have a Navajo nickname?

   

   Rodgers:  No, they always called me Betty.  And

Buck.  They always liked our names.  That's the only

way they called 'em.  But Mother and Daddy, when they

came in the country, they never did have a name for

Daddy John.  They always called him Hosteen John.  And

Mother was Asdzáásts’ósí.  Mother was real slender

then, when she came in.  She didn't have a waist about

any bigger than that, way back in the old days, and

long dresses and all that stuff.  That's the way she

was dressed when she came to the country.  So that's

how they got their names.  And my mother's son, Ben,

was called "little boy," Ashkii yázhí.  And Sister

was....  What did they call Sister? At’ééd yázhí,

"little girl." Yeah, Ashkii yázhí and At’ééd yázhí--

Little Boy and Little Girl.  So they got their Navajo

names.  There's a lot of traders on the reservation

that had Navajo names.  They always named 'em by what

they looked like or what they did or something.

(chuckles)  Always funny.  But they always called

mother Asdzáásts’ósí.  She was a real slim woman.

   

   Steiger:  Does that mean "slim woman"?

   

   Rodgers:  Slim woman, uh-huh.  They always called

Daddy John just John.  And Mr. Caldwell, who was their

partner, he was a tall guy, and they named him Lagonah

Nayez, "tall white man."  Now, what else do you want to

know?

   

   Cole:  I was going to ask, would you say there's

certain characteristics that make a good Indian trader?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, I don't know.  They're just not any

different than anybody else, I guess.  I just never

have paid attention to any way that they might--other

than just learning the language themselves.  A lot of

those guys did that, and learned it real fluently,

which was nice.  You get along better with the Navajo

people if you could speak the language.  A lot of 'em

did.  They were just bound and determined to learn it,

and that's the way they did.

   

   Cole:  Do you have another question?

   

   Steiger:  I ought to, but I can't....  With your

husband, I remember I was just a young boy there at

Vermillion Cliffs in the early seventies.  I remember

we were all in awe of him, we were kind of scared of

him.  He struck us as bein' somebody that you wouldn't

want to get him mad at you.

   

   Rodgers:  Who?  Buck?!

   

   Steiger:  Yeah!  Yeah, we were.  We were kind of

intimidated by him.  I mean, we thought, "Boy, you

don't want to make him mad!"  When you remember him,

what do you think about him?  What were his strong

points, just as a trader.

   

   Rodgers:  I don't know what you'd be afraid of Buck

for!  God, he was a very handsome man.

   

   Steiger:  He was!  I don't know, we just....  You

know, he never gave us any reason to be afraid of him,

but we just had this sense of, boy, you don't want to

_________.

   

   Rodgers:  Well, that's the way he looked all the

time:  a cowboy hat, and wore the regular denim clothes

all the time.

   

   Steiger:  As a trader, was he real involved in the

livestock end of things?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, yeah, he'd rather take care of cattle

than....  We had a few cattle up there.  Who were you

related to?

   

   Steiger:  Well, I worked for Fred and Carol there at

Arizona River Runners.  I was a little swamper.  As far

as who I'm related to, my dad was Sam Steiger.  Right

there underneath John Collier....  (laughter)  But I

remember you guys.  Fred and Carol had just taken over

the bar there.  I remember you guys would come in and

have a Coke or somethin' like that in the afternoons.

   

   Rodgers:  I'll be darned.

   Steiger:  And I remember Stan a lot.  I remember

he'd come in a lot.

   

   Rodgers:  My son?

   

   Steiger:  Uh-huh.  And ____ and those guys would

come in a lot and visit.

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah?  I'll be darned.  Yeah, Fred and

Carol, they sold the place to my daughter.  My

daughter, Roma's, in-laws.  What the heck were their

names?  Nona and Don Seeley [phonetic spelling].  They

sold the place to them.

   

   Steiger:  I didn't phrase that question very good.

I guess it doesn't really....  If you were going to

describe your husband to your grandkids, how would you

describe him--to any of your grandkids that didn't get

to see him.

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, just always tell 'em he was a tall

handsome cowboy.  (chuckles)  You must not have known

much about cowboys, to be afraid of Buck.  God, he's

too good-looking to be afraid of.  (laughter)

   

   Steiger:  Oh, we weren't afraid of him, but it just

struck us that we didn't want to make him mad.

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, I guess.  I don't care what you say

about him, that's the way he impressed ______.

   

   Steiger:  Oh, no, I didn't mean we thought he was

mean or anything.  He was impressive, that's what I

mean.

   

   Rodgers:  Yeah, well....  My son Stanley looks just

like him.  He's down in Phoenix with his wife right

now.  She had a tumor on her brain.  Went down and took

her down to get the pressure off.  She had terrible

headaches, back of her head, and she was just plumb

deaf in her left ear.

   

   Cole:  That's too bad.

   

   Rodgers:  So they drained her ear yesterday--Morray

[phonetic spelling], her daughter, said--and she's

better now.  They should be comin' home tomorrow, I

guess--either today or tomorrow.

   

   Cole:  Anything else you'd like to add?  Any other

favorite memories?

   

   Rodgers:  Oh, I could sit here all day and tell you

my life--I mean, a lot of things that's happened with

my foster father and his trips and what they did and

all that stuff, but I don't think that's important.

(chuckles)

   

   Cole:  Any other questions, Lew?

   

   Steiger:  I can't think of any.

   

   Cole:  Well, Betty, thanks a lot for letting us....

   

   Rodgers:  I think what I've told you is all the main

part.  I hope it's interesting.

   

   Cole:  It's real interesting.

   

   Steiger:  I'll turn this off here.

   

   [END OF INTERVIEW]