TAHLEQUAH – While Cherokee stomp dance songs floated on the breeze, hundreds of people filled the Cherokee Nation Cultural Grounds arena on Saturday to pay respect and celebrate the life of Wilma Pearl Mankiller, the first female chief of the Cherokee Nation who lost her battle with pancreatic cancer on April 6.
The service, planned by Mankiller with her family during her last days, featured songs sung by her granddaughter Bryanna Olaya, a Kiowa drum and the Kiowa Black Leggings Warriors Society. Traditional representatives of the Haudenosaunee, Six Nations, or Iroquois Confederacy, shared with the crowd a traditional thanksgiving drink made from strawberries, symbolic of Mankiller’s journey along the Milky Way, enjoying the luscious springtime fruit with the Creator upon arrival to the Spirit World.
Statements from around the world, including that of President Barack Obama, former President Bill Clinton and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Sec. of the Interior Ken Salazar and others were read throughout the 3-hour program.
Friend and colleague Jay Hannah noted the family, friends, colleagues and dignitaries, including Oklahoma Governor Brad Henry, Lt. Gov. Jari Askins, U.S. Congressman Dan Boren and representatives of Indian nations from across the country who came to honor Mankiller, whom he called a “beloved woman” and a “servant leader.”
Saying Mankiller’s strengths were humility and the ability to listen to people even when they were emotional or antagonistic, CN Principal Chief Chad Smith recalled that she was undaunted by trials and tribulations.
“She was a person of the people. She was just as comfortable meeting with the president of the United States as she was with her own people,” Smith said. “Her personality and leadership will be missed.”
Smith affectionately noted that he and Mankiller didn’t always see eye to eye. When he ran for chief in 1999, she endorsed another candidate, telling Smith he was “unelectable.”
“Fortunately, that time she was wrong,” he said.
Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians Principal Chief Michell Hicks’ statement marked her “unconditional love for her people.”
“She had vision,” he wrote.
Former CN Deputy Chief, under the Mankiller administration, John Ketcher pointed to the construction of several outlying health care clinics within the 14-county jurisdiction of the Nation, a result of her concern for the health of the Cherokee people.
Ketcher noted her powerful capabilities of persuasion.
“She told me, ‘Don’t talk to the people, talk with them. That includes everybody, especially the elders,’” he recalled.
A fierce advocate for women’s empowerment, Mankiller forged a 25-year friendship with Gloria Steinem, a leader in the 20th century women’s rights movement, author and founder of Ms. Magazine.
Steinem said she had lived a long life and had participated in many great things.
“But nothing greater than being asked by Wilma to help her cross over the mountain,” she said. Steinem kept vigil by her friend’s side during the last two weeks of Mankiller’s life.
“We became chosen sisters,” Steinem said.
“In every way, we became part of each other’s lives. I learned many things from my friend. Who was I not to follow her example?” Steinem asked.
It was her sister-friend from whom Steinem sought advice when she, at the age of 66, contemplated marriage for the first time. The wedding ceremony was held at Mankiller’s and husband Charlie Soap’s home near Stilwell. Sadly, Steinem’s husband passed away three years later.
“She had good judgment,” Steinem said.
Steinem also revered her friend as a rare person who knew how to create independence in a way that lead to interdependence, a concept highly regarded in traditional Native communities.
When Mankiller returned to Oklahoma, she met and married Charlie Soap. As partners, they built a strong marriage and implemented many community development projects that prospered from and encouraged the two above concepts.
He said in her last days she had asked him to speak of their life and their work but, with her passing, he found it difficult to put into written words what he would say.
“I was struggling at 2 a.m. I was still struggling this morning,” he shared as he fought back tears.
“We had an outstanding life. She was a great partner,” he said. “We were focused and determined to get the job done.”
He fondly recalled the time when his wife told him she wanted a garden. Having no tiller, he asked a neighbor to till a garden spot at their home. But, the man never came through. Undaunted, Soap decided he could turn the soil with the old, two-horse-drawn plow that was his father’s.
So, Soap hooked up the old plow to his pickup truck. Stepdaughter, Gina Olaya, steered the truck while he struggled with the now 250-horse-power-drawn plow. They turned the soil until it was time for Gina to leave for ball practice.
“Then, Wilma came home,” he laughed.
After some coaxing, she climbed into the cab of Soap’s pickup truck.
“She drove too fast,” he recalled.
The couple struggled with the chore, sometimes with Soap facedown on the ground behind the plow, sometimes the plow underneath the truck when his wife backed up the vehicle too fast.
“But, that was the best garden we ever had,” he said.
He also recounted their first date, which was a trip to Tulsa for dinner and a movie.
“Me, being from Stilwell, I didn’t know where to go in Tulsa. So, we ended up going to the Coney Island and saw the movie, ‘Rambo,’” he chuckled.
On the way home, he said to her, “Boy, those were good hotdogs, weren’t they?”
“I hate hotdogs,” she confessed.
“That was a good movie, that Rambo,” he said to her.
“I hate Rambo,” she replied.
In her last hours, she asked the love of her life if he could hear the sound of horses running, their hooves pounding the earth.
He told her the sounds were probably of warriors coming to escort her to the other side of the mountain.
“Don’t be sad. It’s a happy day,” she told him.
“To me, she’s still here. I’m not going to miss her,” he said, vowing to continue her legacy.
Soap also spoke of the outpouring of love and sympathy from around the world, saying he had received e-mails from as far away as Turkey, and from all over Europe. He noted guests from South America and thanked all who helped care for his wife during her last days.
Mankiller’s daughter, Gina Olaya, related her mother’s encouragement to her daughters that they cherish each and every moment together.
“She told us we were rich because we have each other,” Olaya said.
Mankiller also warned them to choose their battles carefully, but once taken on, never to relent. Race, sexual orientation or the economic status of people did not matter.
“Be accepting of all,” she told them.
Gina’s sister, Felicia Olaya, read a statement, given by Mankiller on April 2, in which she asked to be cremated and her ashes be scattered on the family’s land at Mankiller Flats, in Adair County.
“I know that many people from around here believe in burial. But I would like them to bury something after today. I would like them to bury any unkindness or anger or hurtful things I may have done. Bury those with me.”
Mankiller said she had had a wonderful life and hoped others would learn from it. She said, when she was seven or eight years old, she would never have guessed what the future held for her.
“I hope people will learn from that – about themselves and about others. Don’t turn away from people because of how they look or what they have because you never know what they’ll contribute to the world.”
Upon finishing her mother’s statement, Felicia Olaya raised a white, bald eagle tail feather, tearfully saying, “Rest in peace, Mom. You will forever be in our hearts.”