Sioux Falls to Dinner at Deadwood

Sioux Falls gushing through the rocks, splashing over terrain with reckless abandon

Three women, girls, sisters in a self portrait or diversity (the new word for "integrate"? I'm not sure, the word has reached "buzz status")



It's a happy photograph I think
There was lot of information about Lewis & Clark, so we listened to an audio book [Undaunted Courage] about the expedition, the people. I couldn't get past chapter 4.
I don't like being reminded that this country's economy succeeded on the bloodied backs & bodies of Black men, women, & children.
I don't like that US slavery is the big elephant in the room that no one even wants to acknowledge exists. It happened. Blacks were a commodity, later 3/5 human, later protected from lynching (still a crime), later allowed to vote for 50 years at a time.
The history of this country, the advertisements in electronic & print (when I turn it all on) don't see me. Am I small enough, is my hair straight enough, am I 'clean', or 'intelligent', or 'presentable' enough?
Hard questions
Harder answers
Can't be answered in a moment, conversation, or a day.
Caused tension, tears, & anger in the car
Driving through the beautiful hills of South Dakota, I wonder if I'm seen in the photo.



I'm filming the entryway to the Mt Rushmore site
Massive, beautiful, a work of art 14 years in the making
Showcasing 4 US presidents who formed this country
Brochures lauded their accomplishments
Nothing on their points of view about the Blacks in the country
I just can't rant about that right now
Those thoughts go on paper

But you've got to see this faced-mountain


And then we drove to see the Crazy Horse Memorial in its mid-carved state. Although 'mid-carve' is probably not a proper description. It's a mountain being carved into this massive image that only pictures may tell a decent story. It's said that when complete, Mt Rushmore's presidents will fit into the head and hair of this new monument! How's that for size.
Crazy Horse is a memorial to the Native American; the story of what they had and how it was brutally ripped from them. I can handle only so much soul pain.




When the day was over, we drove through full-green hills, winding roads, and scenic water spaces to dine at the Buffalo Saloon in Deadwood. I thought it odd seeing people seated on benches outside of the restaurants and walled casinos until I heard gunshots. Then I remembered walking by young men dressed in period western clothing. They must have staged a shootout. I was only concerned with my roast chicken and listening to the local entertainment wailing about yodeling.

On the way back to our hotel in Spearfish I mentally recounted my day, and all my other days on the road, wondering what I was really looking for. That answer continues to evolve as I recount the people I've met, shared a meal, and dialogued. So much to write about....
but, we're on the road to Montana