Oklahoma
November
1st, 1877
Dear grandma,
It has been ten
years since my parents, uncle John, and I left Pennsylania to
Oklahoma, followed thousands of miners, farmers, and ranchers migrate
West after the Civil War to search for economic opportunities. Uncle
John and his friends travels from place to place in search of gold,
silver, and copper. I often receive his letters, filled with exciting
news. He told me the news of a mineral strike could turn a sleepy
frontier outpost into a bustling boomtown overnight. He also met
cowboys, and the cattle drives in his adventures. A lot of people
from the East came and established huge cattle ranches on the Great
Plain, or open bonanza farms along the Wheat Belt.
I still remember,
grandma, the first time I rode the train. I didn't know where were we
going too, but mom told me that we will have a huge piece of land for
wheat farming, and we will get rich. Not until now that I know it's
was the Homestead Act, passed by the government in 1862 to support
the settlement. It's was lonely and tough at first, but more and more
people are moving in. I walked along the railroad track yesterday,
wonder how much did these railroads change people's lives. The trains
transport people, and goods from West to East, back and forth. It was
these railroad that ranching become big business, attacted more
people to move here. Long ago, I saw some cowboys passed by the
railroad, drove the cattles north. Their lives must be very
adventurous. But today, since farmers fenced off their lands, I saw
less cowboys.
Grandma, we has
found our home here in Oklahoma, but because of that, the Indian lost
their lands. Even before I came here, in 1862, chief Little Crow of
Dakota Sioux lead his angry people to slaughtered hundreds of
settlers in Dakota. And latter, the Lakota also fought to keep their
hunting grounds. There was a deadly incident called Sand Creek
Massacre. It was unbelievable grandma, when Colonel Chivington
attacked the Chyenne at Sand Creek in 1864, even the Indian wanted to
negotiate.
My father told me
another story about how hard did the Indian fight for their freedom.
It was in 1866, a Chief name Crazy Horse tricked Captain Willian
Fetterman and about 80 soldiers into a deadly trap. The Fetterman's
Massacre was terrible. I was 6 when I heard this story, and I was
shocked for two days. Why do we fight? why can't we share? These
questions were in my head all the time, grandma. But I gradually
understand. The Congress formed the Indian Peace Commission in 1867,
created reservations for American Indians, but they didn't obey the
terms because we didn't keep our promises.
Grandma, don't you
think that we fought the Indians for our own goods is just like the
Indians killed the buffalo to survive themselves? The buffalo were
innocent, but that is life; the strongers will win. The battle of the
Little Bighorn last year is an example. The Lakota and Cheyenne
warriors killed Custer and his soldiers. At home, I prayed that God
will forgive these victims and save their souls. The Nez Perce, under
Chief Joshepth, refused to move to the reservation in Idaho. But last
month, the Chief surrendered. I can feel his weariness after years of
fighting and running.
Even though it's
very sad, but I agree with the government. Grandma, I asked myself if
I have the power, what would I do. I found no other choice than to
use fore to remove the American Indians. Because they cannot
assimilate into our culture, and they refused to.
Grandma, I will be
strong just like my mom and my dad, who dared to travel thousands
miles to this “unknow world” with only ten dollar for a
homestead. I realized this is not a “Great American Dessert” at
all. We miss you everyday, grandma, and we hope that we can visit you
as soon as this crop is over.
Love,
Phuong Le
Trang Chính 
Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:07 pm by 
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