PETERSON ZAH INTERVIEW [BEGIN SIDE 1] This is Brad Cole with Northern Arizona University. We're visiting today with Mr. Peterson Zah at Arizona State University in Tempe, Arizona. It's March 16, 1999. Also present in the room are Willow Powers from Santa Fe, New Mexico, and Lew Steiger running the sound and camera equipment. Cole: I'd like to start out, Mr. Zah, if you could maybe tell us about your clan. Zah: Yeah. I'm a member of the Kinyaa'áanii Clan, born for the Tá chii'nii. And then my grandpas are the Tódích'íi'nii. And then my nalis are Tó'áhaní. Cole: Where and when were you born? Zah: I was born in Keams Canyon area, on December 2, 1937. Cole: What do you remember from growing up in Keams Canyon? What are your favorite memories? Zah: I guess one has to be where Keams Canyon was a place where you had Hopi Agency Hospital there, BIA facilities were there, administrative authorities were all vested in the agency there. Navajo were kind of like a minority in the area, and we were always forced to have to deal with the Hopi Agency being around Keams Canyon, because it was one of those areas where the Navajos lived not around Keams Canyon, but they were kind of out in Chinle and Ganado. Those were heavily populated Navajo areas, and so we had to deal with the Hopi Agency all the time. So that comes to mind, because my mother and my father always had to deal with them. And so that was one. And the other one was I remember having to follow them to Keams Canyon, either to see our relatives in school--my father had some nieces and some nephews that were going to school there--so was my mother. So we kind of took some responsibility over them, so I remember going over to the school and having to visit them as a young boy. I was not at the school age at that time. And then from there we would go over and visit the trading post to buy food, et cetera, from there, and then taking it home. We were always on either horseback or on a wagon. Powers: Was that the Keams Canyon Trading Post? Zah: Keams Canyon Trading Post, yes. Powers: What was it like in those days? Zah: Well, there were really two trading posts. One of them was run by Cliff McGee and his family. That's located over on the west side of the canyon there. And I think to this day he still has his trading post there. And then another trading post was run by the Lee family, which is a little over to the east and the south side of the canyon. They were two competing trading posts. They were different in the sense that with Cliff McGee, he knew the people very, very well, it seems like--the people who went into the store, that did business with him, the Navajo ladies that took Navajo rugs to him. Some took sheep skins, goat skins. Some sold their wool there. And so there was more trading activities that was going on at the McGee Trading Post. And it seems like all of the other people who were working at the trading post were the offspring of Cliff McGee. But with the Lee Trading Post, a mile up the road, was run by somebody else. But people knew that it was run by the Lee family. But he always had different people there working, depending on maybe what time of the year it was. And so it seems like the people really didn't know the new people that were commanding the trading post there. Powers: They weren't there all _________. Zah: They weren't there all year round, and some of them were probably in transit, maybe from job to job. That's at least what I remember. Powers: Right. Cole: How long would it take you to get to the trading post from your home? Zah: From our home we were.... Well, we had to move several times. It's one of those things when you're growing up and it seems like so far away, but as I go back nowadays, I would say we were about maybe eight miles from the trading post. It was in a northeasterly direction, about eight miles. So if we had to walk, maybe it took us a little less than an hour to get there, on horseback maybe thirty minutes. And in a wagon, maybe about an hour. But the roads were bad, and so it was one of those things where we kind of made it the event of the day to go to the trading post. Cole: What was that like when you were a kid, going to the trading post? Do you remember anything specifically enjoyable about it, or not? Zah: Well, it was one of those things where you have your mother, you have your dad, and then you have your grandpa and your grandma. It was nice living with them. I'm the first one in the family of eight, and perhaps I was one of the first grandchildren that stayed around with my grandma and my grandpa. All of the rest of them who were a little older than me had all, by that time, left the camp, and they were out in Winslow, Flagstaff, away from the reservation, because their mother and their father had to work. But we kinda stayed behind, and so as a grandchild I just kind of was one of those kids who stayed around, that grew up to know the grandparents well enough. So when we went to the trading post, I was always put at the end of the wagon, way at the back. As we were driving to the trading post and coming back from the trading post, you just had to listen to conversations that go on. And those were interesting times to learn a lot about the culture, a lot about the family. And that's when I started beginning to hear some about the Navajo-Hopi land dispute, because the way your parents were talking about it, and the way your grandmother and grandfather carried on about the land dispute. So it was beginning to be kind of like a daily conversation about what new was happening in the community, and then over at the Keams Canyon BIA Agency. So it was one experience that to this day I would really cherish, was to be really closely connected to the traditional Navajo family. And when you're a little kid, you were to be seen and not heard. And so they always put me in the back of the wagon. It was a lot of fun. It brings back a lot of good memories. Powers: You covered a lot of distance between then and now. You've seen a lot of changes between that time and now. Zah: Yeah. Well, like anything else, the change happened so quickly, sometimes you don't really recognize it's the same place. You have a good all- weather road that goes into Keams Canyon, you have a new hospital there, you have a new powerplant there, and I think they even have a community college administered out of Holbrook that's a satellite community college out there--Northland Pioneer College. Powers: Oh, yes. Zah: And then I think the McGee Trading Post is a lot bigger, and then Lee Trading Post is no longer there. All that new road that goes into the canyon. You know, sometimes you drive through there, and the place doesn't look the same anymore. It's like anything, everywhere--even around here on the ASU campus. I went to school here, and you can't recognize the place from thirty years ago. Cole: What were your responsibilities, or what did you do as a young boy around your camp? Zah: Well, my responsibility as a young boy was one of always helping out the family. My grandparents and my own parents would assign a task to me, and my duty was to make sure that those were carried out from day to day. For example, my parents were responsible for letting the sheep out in the morning. And then while that sheep corral was being opened, I was always having my breakfast. Once they got two, three miles up the canyon, then it was my job to follow the sheep. No questions asked, no argument--that was your duty. And the other thing was, that when you came home, there was always wood to be chopped, wood to be gathered. And that was also a duty I had to perform, because by that time my grandparents were getting up there in age, and my mother always indicated that I needed to take on a little more responsibility, because I had, at the time that we were living there, maybe two other sisters--two or three other brothers and sisters--and I had to also be responsible for them. So as a young child, because there was only a few of you in the family, they gave you a lot of responsibilities. They didn't do it by being mean to you, in a sense; but it was one of those where you took it as a challenge, you took it as a task that just had to be carried out by a member of the family. You don't go to bed without any wood inside the hogan, for example. You always had to have that, because it gets cold--particularly in the wintertime. The animals had to go out and graze, and they had to be tended to from day to day. So that was a duty that was an ongoing duty all the time. It was one of those things where you just had to learn how to be responsible by doing, and very little talking about things. But you just worked hard during the day, even as a young kid. Cole: Besides sheep, did you have other animals? Zah: We had some horses, and I think my grandmother also had some cattle. And when you have sheep, horses, and cattle, that's a full-time job for anyone. So we all had to pitch in to take care of that. My grandmother got rid of her cattle early on--something that I could remember--because it was just too much work. She sold them all. And I think the Hopi Agency from Keams Canyon was also pushing onto the family the idea of limiting your animals, your livestock. And so you had a choice between limiting the number of sheep and goats you had, or getting rid of your cattle. I think she made that choice and decided that cattle maybe required a little more work than others, and she decided that perhaps what she ought to do, in the best interests of the family, was to get rid of them. And so I remember that happening. And that kind of eliminated one work, but the sheep remained with the family. Powers: That sounds like part of the stock reduction. But that was pretty early on. But the stock reduction program went on for quite a little while, I think. Zah: Probably. All I could remember as a little boy--of course, you don't remember everything historically. But I remember my grandma having to sell her cattle. It was not a good sight to see, and it was also not a good thing to hear. But it happened, and she just made her decision and had to deal with it. Maybe she was being forced to reduce her livestock. Cole: What about things like water and winter feed? Zah: Well, there were two things: The water for the animals we either relied on the rain--there were a couple of dams, one maybe three or four miles up the road in one direction, and maybe one further out, two or three miles going the other direction. And so we always took the sheep there for water. If for some reason we were unable to do that, or if there was not enough water there for the animals, then down the canyon maybe four or five miles away, there was a windmill. I remember the water that came from there was not muddy, as opposed to the dam water. So the windmill water was a lot cleaner, but it required taking the sheep down the canyon, then bringing them back up. And if it's five miles away, that's ten miles. So on occasion, we took our sheep down there. Of course we always had the option of going on horseback to do that. And I think on many occasions we used the horses to herd the sheep to the water. Drinking water, we had a spring at the first camp there. We had a spring where that spring was good to the family. It was always producing good drinking water. We kind of fenced it up so that the sheep and animals wouldn't go there. And it was preserved for family use. That well [i.e., spring] was something that we utilized for many, many years. And I remember we used to have to take a bucket, a gallon- or two- gallon bucket, and going over there daily to get the water, both to my grandparents and to our camp. And that was a task that my father mainly did, because I guess he wanted to make sure that the water wasn't contaminated or anything like that. Sometimes on occasion I would take a gallon jug, and I would just follow him, and he would fill the gallon jug, and my job was to put it on my back and take it home. And my father always had two buckets with him. That was how we got our drinking water. Cole: When you say "camp," what do you mean by that? Did you just have the one hogan? Or did your grandparents also have one? Zah: Well, my grandfather was a very interesting man. His name was Guy Malteen [phonetic spelling]. He was a carpenter, I guess, by trade. He went to school and learned how to do carpentry work. He was also a coal miner in Keams Canyon. Into the canyon and by the mountain they have coal that comes right out of the rocks there. And the Bureau of Indian Affairs and the Keams Canyon Agency decided that they should employ some people--maybe three or four people--and they put a great big hole into the mountain. And then they had a railroad that they placed in there. And then they had a mule, I remember. And my grandfather always used to drive the mule into the mine. And then sometimes I would sit there and just watch the men going into the coal mine. Maybe I would go from our sheep camp with one or two other boys who were a little older than I, and we would just sit there against the mountain, and we would see the men going into the mine. And then maybe a couple hours later, the mule would come back with the wagon just full of coal. Then they would load it onto the truck. Then the truck would take it up to the school, the local school, and probably to the local BIA headquarters there, and at the powerhouse they burned it all day. And that's what was keeping those houses and offices warm. So my grandfather, because he had that job, meant that he had to ride his horse between Keams Canyon over to our camp, eight miles down the road. Sometimes he would ride that distance every day, but on occasion he would ride his horse in, but stayed at Keams Canyon in a little hut, a little stone and brick building. He would stay there, and then come back the following evening. So he may leave, let's say, Monday morning really, really early, like four a.m. in the morning, five a.m. in the morning, and then he would come back Tuesday night, instead of Monday. That way, he only rode in maybe three days out of a week. And so he had his camp there. He may have one or two other grandchildren during the summer months when school was out, older boys, with him. But mainly, I was the main one that was always around there with him. So my grandmother and my grandfather had a house-- not a hogan, a house--because my grandfather was a carpenter, and he managed to build his own house. And so I sensed right at an early age that he was living a little different than most Navajo families in that area. In other words, inside he had a table and he had some chairs. But everything that was in that house was handmade, he built it himself. And so my grandfather was very handy with his hands. And he was considered a good individual to have him build your house. My mother and father, we had a hogan. We had a hogan maybe about fifty to seventy-five yards away from each other. In between was the corral. And that was a camp to me, because we had two families. And then on occasion, my grandfather's kids, one or two of them, may come back, and so they built a hogan. During the summer months they would come back to Keams Canyon, Low Mountain area, and they would stay there. But during the winters, when the kids were in school, let's say, in Winslow or Payson, I remember the oldest individual in his family worked in Payson, and the kids went to school there. The husband was a construction worker for highway construction. And so that's what I call "a camp," when I make reference to camp. Steiger: Not to interrupt, I have [a question]. So if your granddad was working at the mine, when you went to the trading post, would they go with money in hand? Or were you actually trading goods to get groceries and stuff like that? Zah: Well, my father later on also started working at the mine. And my father was one of these individuals where he, and maybe one or two other people in the community, were the only ones that had the ability to speak English. And so the Navajo people gave my father a name. His Navajo name was Ólta'í yázhí, "the short person with education," or "the schooled short person." And the reason why they gave him that name was he had the ability to write, and had the ability to speak the English language. My grandfather was also a good English speaker--perfect English speaker--because during his young days he used to work in White Mountain Apache. He worked with the San Carlos Apaches, and he was down here in Phoenix. He was all over the place, and spoke very eloquently in English. His brother was Scott Preston, who was the vice-chairman of the tribe at the time. And I remember Scott Preston used to come over and visit his brother, and they used to build sweat baths, start a sweat bath going, and I used to go over and participate with them. And all day they would just talk politics. As a little boy, I was there to listen. Of course my interest always was politics, and so I used to love to listen to Scott Preston, what was going on in Window Rock with tribal politics and all of that. It was interesting times. My grandpa probably got paid maybe every two weeks, and so when my father started working there, they would both get a check. They would cash it at the trading post, so the way they were dealing with the trader was that they would have the cash. The only time they really traded anything that is of interest, was when they took in the wool. They would shear the sheep and pack the wool into one big huge bag. I remember how big those bags were. When you filled them up, that's one wagonful. So we would have to take that one bag over to Keams Canyon. But back home at the camp, we would have maybe five of those. So that meant five trips down to Keams Canyon. And they got some cash for the wool. And then on occasion, the trader would just make a note. They would say, "Well, we weighed the wool, and it weighed this much, and they are so much per pound. We will just make you a little note" that says, for example, twenty-five dollars, let's say. And then they would get groceries, [staples]--and those were usually flour, potatoes, coffee, tea, some canned goods. And they would buy the groceries up to the level of the note that they got from the trader. And that's how they dealt with the traders, but it didn't happen all the time. Sometimes my father and my grandfather would demand cash for their wool. And then another time that they would do that is when they would get the sheep skins and the goat skins. We took that in, and I remember they cost something like fifty cents or a quarter. So you took four sheep skins in to get a dollar. So when we butchered a sheep or a goat, we'd save all the hide and the wool. You build it up during the year, in the springtime you took it all in. And that was traded with the traders at the trading posts. But for my grandfather and my father, when they were working at the coal mine, for their check they always got cash. And so they were always using cash economy for their things. Steiger: I just asked that because earlier in this project we spoke with a young guy who said his family-- they were just in the livestock business--and he said they didn't have money, never dealt with that. They'd just take their hides or their cattle in and trade with the trader, and hardly any coins or bills exchanged hands. Zah: I think with most--I would say with most people in the community, Navajos that went to Keams Canyon probably dealt that way. The trader had to deal with my father and my grandfather a little differently, because they had the ability to speak English, and others didn't. Early on, my father went into the service, maybe around 1937, 1938, 1939. He was training and preparing to become one of the Navajo Nation code talkers when the war was over. When he came back, he came back to the family as an alcoholic. He liked his booze, and we could never get him away from that. But he didn't drink all the time. He was one of these, I guess, individuals that drank very heavily for a short period of time, and then left it alone for the next couple of months or so. He had a great sense of responsibility towards his people. For example, he would go to the trading posts and he would get mail, an envelope like this, because he knew all of these people whose name was on there. Mary Yazzi. He would look at it and say, "Mary Yazzi is our neighbor, seven miles up the road." So he would get all of that, and then he would ride his horse to Mary Yazzi's house, and then he would deliver the mail to Mary Yazzi. Well, Mary Yazzi can't read or write, so then he would give it to Mary, and then Mary Yazzi would open [it]. He always had them open the letter, and then they gave him the letter and he would read it to them in Navajo. And he would interpret from English right into Navajo words. And nine times out of ten, those Navajo ladies would say, "We want you to write back to this person for us." And so my dad would sit there and the ladies would tell him what to say. And so he would write back to the people. Most of these letters that I remember as a young boy were letters that came from young men that were in the service during the war. And I remember him reading to his own brothers and sisters what kind of war was going on, what happened at night, and the Japanese, what they looked like, and how they were so lucky, and all of that. And the letters would say something like, "I don't know if I'll return home, but I'm just telling you the way life is here when you're in the service." They would describe the food that they would eat, and the long walks that they had to take, and how they got thirsty, let's say, on one trip, and one of their buddies would get killed. That kind of some horrible war stories that they would write about. And I remember some elderly Navajo women would cry as my father would read the letters to them. And then my dad would say, "Let's go to another camp to deliver another letter." So I would sit on the back of the horse. We had one horse, so I would just sit in back of him, and then he would deliver the mail to the next person. The same thing would happen. And I remember a lot of times when the people who are in the war, they will not put their address down, and the ladies want to write back, but there's nobody to write back, so they know that the letter came from their son. So my dad would just say, "We'll wait for the next letter. Maybe they'll have a return address. That way I can write back to them for you." Now, my dad didn't get a cent for that. And I don't think he even wished to be paid for that. That was his sense of service, his sense of duty. And he used to say that "I have the ability to read, and I have the ability to talk English. That's why I went to school. And these other people didn't go to school and they can't read or write English. So I have a duty to them." And he used to tell me, "When you go to school, you also have a duty to those people." And I guess that's where I got my sense of dedication, the urgency to serve, because of what he was doing. And the amazing thing was, we would be hungry, but he never got paid for all of that. And I think that's why they gave him that name, __________, is that he was a schooled person that can be their ears and eyes and their mouth. Powers: That must have encouraged you to go to school, too. Zah: Oh, yeah. Powers: Is that how you became interested in law? Zah: Well, at that time I didn't have the foggiest idea what law (laughs) was, or any of that kind of thing. That came on a little later. Powers: How did that come about? Zah: Well, that came about.... I guess for all of you, I'm not a lawyer. I never went to law school. Powers: Yes, but you were involved as a lay person, so to speak. Zah: I was involved only as a helper to the lawyer. I got involved in DNA People's Legal Services, mostly from the cultural education perspective, where we had a lot of young, aggressive, non-Indian white lawyers that came to Navajo, but they didn't have all that many Navajo people that can be the ears and eyes of the Navajo people in the community to those white lawyers. And I guess that was one reason why I was hired--and in the same sense as what my dad was doing, and I looked at it the same way. And here you have a situation where the lawyers were coming onto the Navajo [Reservation], and they needed guidance; they needed somebody that can guide them and somebody that can work with them to make sure that Navajo culture and Navajo taboos--if there is such a thing as taboos--are not violated. And so my job was to help the lawyers that way. And so it was more from educational experience than just becoming a lawyer that's working in an adversarial system for the Navajo people. I just got kind of involved into that kind of a situation with DNA. Powers: You were with it from the very beginning, were you not? Zah: I was the third person hired at DNA. Powers: [Wow!] Zah: A very interesting thing happened. I think one of your questions was how DNA got started. (Powers: Yeah.) I graduated from ASU in the early sixties, and I went back to the Navajo [Reservation] as a teacher, and I taught at Window Rock High School. And at Window Rock High, I was also a basketball coach. The high school was just getting off the ground. They were just building their facility, and they were hiring teachers and I think at that early, early stage of high school development in Window Rock, there were only, I would say, four or five of us that were Navajo teachers. The rest of them were all non-Indians. And one of them was Senator Jack Jackson. He was one of the other five Navajo teachers amongst all of the non- Indian teachers. And so I went back and that's what I was doing. And then from there I became what they called a construction estimator for the Navajo Nation. My job was to estimate construction costs from the blueprint. And so I had to figure out how much lumber it takes to build this building; how much work will go into building that building; ordered all of the plumbing fixtures that's needed; lighting, electrical fixtures that's needed. That was my job for the tribal construction department. That's when they built all those chapter houses. So I had a role in building a lot of the chapter houses on the Navajo [Reservation]. And then from there I came back to ASU, and I was with a program called VISTA Training Program. And the VISTA Training Program was analogous to the Peace Corps program. It was like a domestic version of the Peace Corps program, where individuals went out into other countries. Students, mainly, joined the Peace Corps, and they were assigned to those other countries--mainly underdeveloped countries. And that was John Kennedy's idea of service and making yourself available to those other countries. VISTA volunteer program was a domestic version of that where people stayed in the United States, mainly to Indian reservations. My job was to train those VISTA volunteers. So I came back to this university here at ASU, and stayed here for two years. Then one day I was here, and a lawyer gave me a call. He was just a young lawyer that came out of Harvard Law School, and his name was Theodore Mitchell. Powers: The famous. Zah: And he says he just got hired by Peter MacDonald [phonetic spelling], and Peter MacDonald was the director of the Office of Navajo Economic Opportunity. And the Office of Navajo Economic Opportunity had a community development program, they had a child development program which turned into preschool, Head Start. It had a construction program to build modern homes. It had all of these components, and one of them was legal services. And so Ted Mitchell was the person that got hired under what they called ONEO. And Ted Mitchell then went and hired a guy named Leo Haven. And Leo Haven used to be the head of community development. He just switched over to help out Ted Mitchell, because he knew all the people around the reservation. And so Ted Mitchell and Leo Haven came down to Phoenix, and they wanted to talk to me. So I came to work one morning, and they were sitting in my office here. They said, "We are going to start a legal aid program, and we would like to talk to you about coming back to the Navajo [Reservation]. What in the world are you doing 300 miles away from the Navajo [Nation]?! You should be back with your own people." And so they really laid the line on me-- especially Leo. He was describing how he used to be in Riverside, California. He said, "I was in Riverside, California. I had a nice house, I had a family, and I decided What in the world am I doing in Riverside, California, so many miles away from the Navajo [Nation]?! So I returned. Now I'm feeling very good about myself and about the people, and all of that. I'm really enjoying my life. I know you'll be the same," [and so on and so forth]. And so I told him I would sleep on it, I would decide later. So my wife and I talked about it, and we decided to go back. We decided to go back, and so we went back. So I was the third one that got hired by the program. The way Ted Mitchell put it, he said, "I want Leo to be involved in the community, working with the chapter people, agency people, and the tribal council. With you, I want you to hire tribal court advocates. In our budget there are positions for thirty-four tribal court advocates, so I will need to hire thirty-four people that can practice law in tribal courts. We also need to train them. Maybe we need to work with the law school here at ASU and have them train our tribal court advocates. We'll also need to go to every school on the reservation, and see if we can recruit some young Navajos from those schools. And then I want you to work with the tribal judges and maybe we could do a better job of representing the Navajo people who appear in court, many of them without counsel. And the tribal judges are wearing three hats: one of them is the prosecutor, [one of them is counseling (Tr.)] the defendants, and then they're judging at the same time. We need to talk to the tribal judges, they shouldn't be doing that. We'll be a defense program. We'll have Navajo defendants come to DNA. The tribal government can take on the prosecution, and that will leave the judges to judge those cases. So that would be your work." That's what Ted said. Then he said, "On occasion, you also need to come with me and we'll recruit some lawyers. We'll go to Boston and we'll go to Harvard, we'll go to Yale, we'll go to NYU, we'll go to Cornell, we'll go to John Marshall University in Chicago, American University in Washington, SCU, USC, UCLA. We'll go to Boathall [phonetic spelling] in California, University of California. I see where you interviewed Bob Hilgendorf [phonetic spelling]." That's how we got Bob Hilgendorf out of Harvard. And the other one was Paul Biederman [phonetic spelling]. I think he went to NYU, if I remember. I remember all those guys. Anyway, that was my job, was to recruit. So I used to comb the whole country. I used to go to all these law schools, and I kept a portfolio of all of the students who were interested in coming to DNA. So on any given day, I could pick up, and I had a tab that said, "Harvard." In Harvard there was Bruce Babbitt and his wife that were interested in working for the Navajo Nation, or for the legal services program. And then I would say, "They're in the second year now," so it meant we had to go back and interview them, see if they want to come next year. So I had a tab on every one of these people. During the summer, we had in our budget forty law clerks that we can hire. We had about thirty positions for lawyers. We tried hiring the experienced lawyers--it didn't go very well, because the experienced lawyers were already into their work, and they had families. It was pretty hard to move somebody that has a house in Phoenix, for example, to move up to Window Rock. We didn't have houses to begin with anyway. So we decided to go after the young ones at law school. And we got some pretty darned good lawyers out of those law schools. But the key was interviewing them while they're in the second year and third year, and you choose them. Out of the forty or fifty lawyers that I kept a portfolio on, we would invite, let's say, twenty of them to come to the Navajo for further extensive interview by the staff. And we would drive them around the reservation. If I really wanted a lawyer to come to DNA, I would take them to Grand Canyon, Canyon de Chelly, Monument Valley. Nine times out of ten they would say, "Yes! I'm coming." So I used it. (laughs) I used those areas to entice them to come, because we weren't paying that much. My pitch to them was that, "If you're interested in money, don't think about money now. Do something worthwhile in your life. We've got cultural things that are so rich we could offer you. On the weekends you can go drive out to Grand Canyon. These are beautiful places, these are beautiful people, and we really want you to come and make a commitment to DNA for two years. Then after two years, you can go back to Illinois or New York, Wall Street, you can start making money. But you'll always remember DNA, and you'll always remember what you did immediately after law school." Powers: They do. You know, every lawyer that I've interviewed said to me, "DNA was the most exciting work I ever did." They're long into their careers by now, as you know. Zah: Yes. Well, my job was to set all of that up, and be able to maintain all of that. At some point, Ted Mitchell just turned to me and said, "Mr. Zah, you handle the young lawyers. You interview them every spring. You take one month to go comb this whole country. You need to keep on top of all of that." And so that's what I did. And talking to all those young lawyers, that was my pitch to them. My pitch to them was that, "You're never ever going to experience any other things as exciting as DNA. Yes, we don't have any money, we can't pay you much. But we have a Tribal Court system here that we're trying to develop. There is a Navajo sense of justice. We do have our own views about what we mean by due process of law, which may be different than the Anglos' concept of due process of law. And your job is to weigh those when you're handling these cases." But, as we talked more and more about cases, I was telling the young lawyers coming out of law school that, "Yes, the scenery is out there. The landscape is beautiful. The people, the culture that's different, that's also beautiful. But the cases are also the most interesting, interesting ones. And what we're trying to do nationwide for American Indians is that we're trying to enhance tribal sovereignty. The general public out there doesn't understand tribal sovereignty. We need to take some good cases to the Supreme Court where we can prove our points about tribal sovereignty and how those are really, really important to the Indian people." And so DNA during that period handled some of the most interesting cases coming out of Indian country. And it was those cases that developed American Indian law for everybody across the nation. McClanahan [phonetic spelling] versus Arizona Tax Commission is only one of them. Rosalind McClanahan came to me, personally, and complained about what the State Tax Commission was doing to her, levying her income on the Navajo. So we took that case and we developed it, and ran all the way with it, through the United States Supreme Court. And that became a predominant American Indian law case. So those kinds of cases became very, very famous. [END SIDE 1, BEGIN SIDE 2] (Cole gives tape ID) Powers: Mr. Zah, if I could just ask you how the traders came to play into the DNA's goals to work on these legal matters for the tribe, how they became important. Zah: Well, from my description of the program, it was the most exciting time. When you have, for example, on any one given summer, where you had thirty lawyers, and you have forty law clerks, for a total of seventy law clerks and lawyers on the reservation--and then on top of that, another thirty-five tribal court advocates, so we're talking a little over 100 people that you're working with that are trained to be lawyers. I guess that's how I got my white hair so quickly, was to work with those lawyers and tribal advocates during my days at DNA. But I wouldn't trade that for anything. It was the most interesting time of my life. It was the most exciting thing to do, I guess, in working with those people. All along, as I was doing all of this, I kept on thinking. I had a role in developing this. We have a big monster here. So at one point, we were handling all of these famous cases that went to the Supreme Court. But all of that dealt with the federal government, state agencies, county governments. But we didn't have cases against [our] own tribal government. So then we would have meetings, and we would have strategic sessions. One day a complaint came in to me, and there was a group of Navajos that raised the question of reapportionment. And that was that the tribal council was improperly apportioned. We have a situation where one community, a council delegate, was representing 200 people. And then another community that had one council delegate was representing 8,000 people. But when they vote on issues in the tribal council, their vote equals one. And what a disparity! So the Navajo people wanted that corrected. So they gave me the case to handle it, and I knew that it had to be filed against the tribal council. And there were a lot of discussions, there were a lot of debates among the staff, among our community representatives, whether we should even bring on that case, because we all knew that it was going smack right into tribal politics. And so I handled the case, and lo and behold, won the case in the Tribal Courts, where I got an order out of the Tribal Court. I remember the judge was Merwyn Lynch [phonetic spelling]. He signed an order mandating that the council not dismiss its current session until they reapportioned the seats. And I had to make that presentation to the tribal council. That got me right into the middle of tribal politics really fast. And I was just a young man. And I remember being with my mother and with my father at one of those times, and my mother was really discouraging me, not to get involved into that kind of thing. My father, on the other hand, was glad. He said, "It's about time! That's why you went to school. That's why all you kids went to school. If there's a wrong here, we just can't sit around and see the continuation of that wrong being continued. So your job is to correct that situation." I remember him saying that. So anyway, we did what we had to do, the tribal council reapportioned itself, but it was a bitter battle among all of the council delegates. And so those were interesting cases that came out of DNA. How the traders and the trading posts got involved in all of those kinds of legal activities at DNA was there were just too many complaints that were coming into DNA offices, all the offices, because by that time we had about seven or eight offices that were open among the Navajo agencies. There was an office in Tuba City, there was an office in Chinle, for example; Fort Defiance Agency; Shiprock; and Crownpoint. And so we had opened all those offices. At the same time, we were having an office open in White River for the Apaches and Hopi in the heart of Hopiland. And so we were out there among the people, advocating to have Indian individuals who are indigent, to have them work in such a way that their legal rights are exercised and protected. And so the more we told the community people about some of their legal rights, the more cases they brought to us. And it was at that point, I think, the trading post problems came into existence, where just too many people were coming to our offices complaining about the traders. And I'll use one or two examples of what kind of complaints. One complaint was where the traders would only deal with some Navajo people insofar as getting work off the reservation. Railroad jobs at that time were very popular among Navajo people who are not trained. They were laborers. So Union Pacific and Santa Fe Railroads would call the trading posts, and they would call, for example, the McGee family, and say, "We want ten Navajos that are good workers." Well, the way the trader made that decision was "good workers" meant the people who owed them the most money. (laughter) So what they did is that they ended up sending those people on a railroad job. On one occasion, I know the trader was transporting some Navajo young people from Keams Canyon to Holbrook to put 'em on a train to go to Kansas. And the trader sent the young kid, the son. I don't remember what the age was, it was just a young boy. The young boy took the pickup, and they put all the Navajo workers in the back and they were on their way to Holbrook. They got into a car accident. (Powers: Oh, yes.) I don't know if you remember it. They got into a car accident, and many of them were hurt. I don't remember the details, but some of them may have even died. I don't know that, we'd have to look at the records to see. But for sure a couple of them really got hurt seriously. And those families came to DNA and said, "We want you to do something about it. We want to file a suit." And so that raised a lot of consciousness among the Navajo families. So the more we looked into it, that's how the Navajo workers, Santa Fe Railroad workers, were chosen, was the individuals who owed the most money at those trading posts. There was one good example of what happened. The other one was where the Navajo people who gave their local address--as you know, you don't have street addresses out there, so you use your local trading post as your local address. And when Navajo people go out there, outside of the reservation, and work, they would always have some kind of a check coming, and following them after coming back into the Navajo [Reservation]-- either in the form of severance pay or retirement check or last payment on the job, or something. And the traders, as we understood it, based on the complaints, would always know which letter contained a check inside. And the trader would put that check into a different box, and would leave all of the other mail in the box for the people to come and check. But they would know that there's a check in here, so they would put it somewhere. So an individual [would] ask to see if the mail is there. Then they would look at that other pile, and they would look through it. And the trader worked in such a way that he always got his money back from that individual. And the individuals were saying that "the trader should not hide the check from me," or "they should not open my mail," or "they should not put this over the light bulb and see if there's a check inside. You know, that's my right. They're violating my rights." So we got into a big fight with the traders over that issue. And I remember I was right in the middle of it. And the third kind is where--and this is how the Federal Trade Commission got involved, FTC--and the third kind was where if you pawned something of value-- jewelry, saddle, belt, beads, squash blossom, moccasins--when you pawned something at the trading posts, you were paying such a high, high interest rate on those pawned articles, to a point where it was described as unconscionable, that nowhere else in the country do you go to a pawn broker, for example, and do you pawn an article such as high as the trader would charging the interest on those. And so we got into a big dispute with the traders over that issue. And related to the same pawn article, was where if you have some good squash blossom and Navajo beads, for example, or sash belt, when the pawn became dead was always an issue. The traders, as we understand it, through the complaints that were coming to our office, if there is some good valuable squash blossom, the trader worked in such a way, kept their records in such a way, that it became a dead pawn immediately. So if there's a tourist coming by Keams Canyon, driving across the reservation, and if they're really interested in that bead [necklace], if it was labeled "dead pawn," they would sell it, and they would get a huge amount of money off that article. For example, a Navajo might pawn a bead necklace for $100, and the Navajo lady might be paying the interest on that on a monthly basis, so that it won't become dead. The trader would maybe get tired of that, because so little money is coming off that pawn. He would declare it dead pawn, and then sell it for $500, $800, $1,000, and they would keep all of that money. Our claim from DNA was that that money belongs to the person who owns the beads or the necklace--that the person who owns the beads should get a good portion of that money, and not the trader. The trader should only get back for the amount of the pawned article, and the other should go back to the owner. So we got into a big hassle over that. The hassle and the dispute relative to those pawned articles was such a big thing that we got the Federal Trade Commission involved to regulate the traders. Powers: The DNA did? Zah: Yes. Powers: You and the DNA--not the tribe? Was the tribal council involved in some way? Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Zah: Yeah. I think the way the whole thing worked was that the name of the case was Rockbridge versus BIA. John Rockbridge was an old Navajo man from Keet Seely area, from north of Piñon there. Around Fourth Lake, John Rockbridge. He was the guy that brought the suit, Rockbridge versus BIA. And Rockbridge versus BIA then the legal case became so big, and it involved all of the other traders, that it was decided that the Federal Trade Commission should get involved, as an entity of the federal agency that should look into all of these allegations. So they got involved as a result of the lawsuit. Then the tribal government was also asked where they stand, relative to the Federal Trade Commission coming out and, as I remember correctly, either Peter MacDonald was this young first year, second year into his office, he supported that Federal Trade Commission coming out. And the other major, major complaint that the local people came to DNA with was the inferior merchandise and food items--in particular, the meat. That the trading post had groceries, and most of what they sold was the canned goods, but there was always some fresh meat that they sold. I think we had some Navajo people that bought some meat, and they took it home and the meat was spoiled. They were not properly ventilated and they were not kept in the cold, refrigerated container. And so Southwest Indian Development was just young college students that came back there in the summer. They decided to take on that responsibility. And I remember there was a young gal who's now either the superintendent or principal at Window Rock High School: Gloria Hale Showalter [phonetic spelling] I think is now the principal at Window Rock High School. She was just the first year in college when she decided to join Southwest Indian Development, and she did the trading post study. And they did a report. And Charlie John, a tribal judge, was the chair or the head of the survey and study. And what they did was pick and choose at random, trading posts--five or six trading posts. And the students went out and they surveyed the fresh meat at those trading posts, and what they were doing. And I think they even checked some scales, too. You know, when the Navajo people bring their wool in, and where the traders--some Navajo people were complaining about the scale, when you put items on there it didn't show the correct weight, and their weight was rigged. So they went out and they checked the scale. You know, they may have something like a fifty-pound sack of flour, and they asked the trader, "We want to put this fifty-pound sack of flour on your scale." If the trader said no, then they knew that something was wrong. So it was a real simple, simple investigation that they went on. And they discovered and brought back a report that yes, a lot of perishable items were not properly ventilated and kept in refrigerated places, and that those should not be out. So then the idea, "Now, who regulates a trading post? Who has the responsibility?" BIA was saying, "No, we don't." So it was just an appropriate thing to bring in the Federal Trade Commission. So the Federal Trade Commission then came in and they issued that report on the trading posts. Now, the traders didn't like what we did, but I was there. We didn't have a choice. The complaints against the traders were just too overwhelming. I mean, what would you do if you get so many complaints about the scales not working when they bring in their wool? Who's gonna keep an eye on whether the scale is right or wrong, to so many trading posts out there in the spring, when the sheep are being sheared? When a family says, "I bought this meat, and I was beginning to cook it, thought it was okay. I ate it until I tasted it, and it came from this trading post." You know, who's there to supervise that and to oversee the way things are done? When people say, "My check was put in a different box, it wasn't in the general box, and the trader then hid that from me, because they knew that the check was in there. And they wanted to make sure before they cashed my check-- it was a $200 check, I owed them $100 out of the $200 that's in here. So when I signed it over, they got their $100 back and I got $100. Is that right or wrong?" You know, those kinds of questions. There were just too many allegations and complaints. So the BIA came out with trader regulations. And the trader regulations required that a note be taken on every pawn item. For a man to come in with a saddle, the trader's job is to give a piece of paper, a slip that says what the interest rate is, the day it was pawned, and all of that. The man whose pawning the saddle then got this piece of paper. So that was all done through the FTC traders' hearings. And so that was the extent of my involvement with the traders. Now, that isn't saying anything about the good services of the traders have meant to the Navajo people for all these years. It was just a situation where the complaints have compounded during a certain period of time. And the Navajos were going out. More and more Navajos were going out to Flagstaff, Winslow, Cortez, and Farmington to shop. (Powers: Right.) And they were beginning to see the difference between the trading post, what it has to offer, and the shopping centers out there. They were beginning to compare prices, they were beginning to compare the quality of the merchandise they were buying. And to me, it was just inevitable that this thing came about [in] the manner in which it did. It was one of those things that it just had to come at that time, in the history of the Navajo people. And then from that was an upshot of shopping centers. Chinle Shopping Center was born as a result of all of that. Tuba City Shopping Center then was constructed. And so all around the reservation you have these big chain stores like Basha's, that came in. Those new shopping centers and your food chain stores, they have to comply with your federal regulations, to police the area so that none of this that I was describing will repeat itself. Powers: It's almost as if the traders were traditional and thus very out of date. And what was going on, on the reservation was a real change after the Second World War. They wanted things just like everybody else had them. Zah: Well, the way I see all of that is that.... And the traders may not have anything to do with this, where the Navajo people were kept on that reservation, almost like in captivity, for all these years. We just stayed there, we didn't know the outside world. We didn't know the good things that were happening out there. So all of a sudden two things happened. One of them was that many of our Navajo people went out of the Navajo Reservation to serve this country during the war. So they had contacts. My father is a good example. He went into the service and he saw what kind of society is out there, because he rode the train between Los Angeles and San Francisco so many times when he was stationed in San Diego. And so he saw for himself the way life is out there. A lot of Navajos did the same thing. So after the war, in the mid- 1940s, they came back in. So that's one thing that happened. The second thing that started happening was the scholarship program kicked into place. Paul Jones and Scott Preston had allocated $10 million for the Navajo Scholarship Program, and they said anyone who's able, willing, aggressive, and that has good grades, can use this money to go to college. So then more Navajo kids started going out, getting their college education. They saw with their own eyes the kind of life that exists out there. They came back into the Navajo [Nation]. Then, as a result, they started saying, "Hey, we have this situation here." And so those two things began happening, and as a result of those two things, a lot of Navajos were beginning to question some of the activities of the traders. And the traders may not have had anything to do with all of this. It's just that the evolution of Navajo history that took place, that came about at this time, that resulted in the so-called trading post problem. Cole: Did DNA get many complaints about off- reservation traders? Zah: I think they were some off-reservation traders--mainly the pawn brokers, the car dealers--you know, other forms of complaints that the Navajos were leveling against business people, were also happening at the time. With car dealerships, it was one of repossession. And then maybe with financing--that's also a story in itself, in dealing with the car dealers. The car dealers and the traders were kind of identical--both of them were huge, huge problems. Steiger: I've got two [questions]. You said your dad went in the late thirties to the service. Was he drafted? I mean, World War II didn't start really heatin' up until we were bombed, it seemed like. And I wonder, did he just sign up to go? Zah: If he did go in, it must have been 1939, but I think he was drafted. It may have been after Pearl Harbor was bombed. Steiger: And I have one other quick one. When you were a kid sittin' in the sweat lodge with those guys, and they were talking politics, what were the issues that they were talking about then?--if you want to get into that. Maybe that's too much of a digression, and I swear I'll shut up. Zah: Well, one of the issues back then was a national issue of the use of medicine men. See, the BIA had this big thing about the Sun Dance in the Dakotas and the Wyoming area with the Sioux, and how the United States viewed that as not such a good idea to have, to do, by an Indian tribe--that it was not a religious activity, it was a way of torturing a human being. But the way the Sioux were looking at it was in a religious way, similar to your sacrifices that one has to do. So it was a form of sacrifice. And the United States was thinking about doing away with some Indian religious activities. On the Navajo [Reservation], the Native American Church was just beginning to crop up through the Navajo Reservation. And if you have a religious Sioux activity as an activity that bothered the United States, whether they should even practice that or not, then having the Native American Church for the Oklahoma Indians coming into the Navajo, then the Navajo religion was also being raised also as an issue. And Scott Preston was a medicine man. And that kind of a discussion was a big topic in the sweat bath, because he was kind of also a guy with a sense of humor. They would be talking about, "They want to do away with even this sweat lodge. They want to maybe even do away with these songs." And then Scott Preston would say in his own Navajo way, with a lot of common sense and a sense of humor, and he would say, "Brother, they're talking about all of this, that we shouldn't be doing this, being in the sweat lodge. But to hell with them, let me sing this song for you." And then the two of them would laugh and they would start singing. He says, "Who are they to come to this country to tell us that this is an inappropriate thing to do? This is between our great Creator, our spirit, and our communication with the Great Spirit. To hell with those other guys, what they think!" and they would start singing. So the old man had a great sense of humor in that way. And he says, "I'm happy. And I know when we get out of this sweat bath, I'll be happy that I saw you and we had a chance to talk about this." So those were the topics. Navajo-Hopi was also a topic all the time. Powers: We should stop. Your time is up. I know you have an appointment. Zah: _____________ (comment obscured by laughter) Powers: That's what I was thinking. But thank you, that was very, very interesting, very valuable. A different perspective. [END OF INTERVIEW]