People Before Camp

Our first stop was the top of Antenna, the tall tower overlooking Echo Valley that powers our Canyon radios and serves as a mountaintop amphitheater for groups to gather and worship.

“I know why this land was sacred to so many people,” said Rudy De La Cruz. He is the director of the Texas Heritage Project for the American Indians in Texas at the Spanish Colonial Missions (AIT-SCM) and a descendent of the Coahuiltecans (kow·aa·weel·tuh·KAN), though he doesn’t know which tribe. Rudy’s grandfather was a foundling, dropped off in 1915 at an orphanage run by Father De La Cruz, “so that became our last name.” Rudy is tall—well over six feet—with a long black ponytail. He wears a plaid shirt, a small pouch of medicine around his neck (sage, he tells me), beads made from Mountain Laurel beans and wood, a star of David, and a cross. His grandfather, Rev. Manuel De La Cruz, started Assemblies of God churches all over Texas—from Lubbock to San Antonio.

That day, looking out over the Frio River as it bends around Echo Valley, Rudy started the tour by reading a land acknowledgment he had written for the Circle Bluff Area. Land acknowledgments can take different forms, and for Rudy this was a poetic and historically researched acknowledgment of gratitude for the many different people who have visited the Canyon over the centuries. His words felt very much like a prayer.

“Eternal Creator, we gather here today to show our respect to the Ancestors and with cries of victory acclaim the resiliency, tenacity, and ability of Native American peoples of today to survive, heal, and thrive.” He prayed that our hearts would be protected. He named several dozen nations, tribes, and bands who have lived in this part of Texas for centuries—the Pacoa, the Tepehuan, the Tap Pilam Coahuiltecan Nation, and so many others. He prayed that our words would be words of healing for all generations.

After his prayer and acknowledgment, no one spoke for a while. The silence felt holy.

Recent findings at the Gault Archaeological Site north of Austin suggest people have lived in Texas for more than 16,000 years, much longer than previously thought. In the past, experts have estimated the ancient middens on our property—mounds of fired limestone that were used as ovens for cooking and toolmaking—are thousands of years old.

These middens were our goal for the day, and we were soon hiking to the next location on our Canyon tour, a potential midden near Silver Creek. Kevin Wessels, Director of Stewardship for the H. E. Butt Foundation, led the way.

Altogether, four Native American guests from AIT-SCM joined us—a young woman, a young man, and two elders. Four of them represented Coahuiltecan tribes who had likely migrated through the Frio Canyon each year for centuries. Lindsey Bruce, a graphic designer for the H. E. Butt Foundation, also came. She is Kiowa: a tribe which was known to trade with the Coahuiltecans.

“It’s no coincidence that a Kiowa is here with us,” Jesús said. “Just like we would have done years ago when the people would meet to trade.”

When we reached the midden, Jesús surveyed the site visually, showing us discolored limestone rocks that were broken at right angles. He interpreted the rocks to have broken under heat stress, like they might have experienced in a midden oven.

Given that neighboring ranches have verified middens on their properties, it is safe to assume this is a midden as well, Jesús told us. To know more, we would have to study it more closely, perhaps even dig into it. Should we?

“What is the appropriate way for us to interact with these middens?” Kevin asked.

That question opened up an energetic conversation because our guests had mixed feelings. As Native Americans, they advised us to leave the middens alone. But as archaeologists and anthropologists and historians actively working to rediscover their heritage, they hoped we would study and document. “Working with both [the Tap Pilam] Nation and archaeologists will allow for a more holistic approach,” Jesús agreed.

Our Canyon trail maps already caution guests, “If you find a fossil or arrowhead, please do not remove it. The location of artifacts and fossils provides crucial historical context.” (In fact, we debated internally whether we should even write publicly about the hundreds of middens on our property.)

The second midden we visited, after a delightful box lunch at Blue Hole, was smack dab in the middle of a campsite. A game court is right next to it. Guest beds and outdoor seating are very close.

As soon as we approached the midden, both Jesús’ and Rudy’s eyes lit up. This was definitely a midden they assured us. There was no doubt this time, no need for further surface investigation. Jesús picked up several rocks, marveling at the sheer size of the site.

Rudy said ancient sites like these fill him with a sense of belonging. Here, just outside one of the main buildings on the H. E. Butt Foundation property, an ancient midden utilized by Native Americans demonstrates that he belongs. It asserts his identity and heritage for him.

It’s a funny thing, heritage. The Canyon is a place where people still gather to play games, to tell stories, to retreat. Many guests are on a spiritual retreat of some kind. Their drive in the river is special, almost baptismal, set apart, and somehow holy. Our guests today experience the Canyon as a place of healing—likely the same way it may have felt to the Coahuiltecan ancestors we are remembering today.

“Healing would bring them here,” Jesús said, “for the water, the animals, the plants … We are healing now. With the sunrays. With the conversation. And the prayers. I would like to come back and pray some more.”

Prayer is the best way to show respect, Rudy agreed. “I like to say words and offer respect and gratitude and wonder. There’s a simplicity out here that makes you not want to go back … It’s a lifelong journey to find what you were before, and I wonder if [the ancestors] know that we are being allowed to be ourselves again.”

This land contains the legacy and culture of so many people. Many of them—including many ancestors of the Tap Pilam Coahulitecan Nation—still live near enough to visit.

Mary Holdsworth Butt and Howard Butt Sr. expressed their specific interest in preserving the history associated with the H. E. Butt Foundation Camp property. In an excerpt from Mary Holdsworth Butt’s diaries, she writes, “… both of us want to preserve historical facts as well as historic value.”

This history of the people who were here before us—the mystery of the past—is part of what we steward as we care for this land and share it with others. Remembering is a way of honoring our neighbors from the past. Because what are ancestors except neighbors who came before us? The ones who played games in these fields before we did, who fished these waters before we did, who loved this Canyon before we did.

It is good to be thankful for the people who loved this land before we did. They are part of the story of this place today as much as we will be part of the stories others may tell in the future.

“I call it the song of the ages,” Rudy said. “To meditate on what has been, what came before.” Respecting the past does not require shame, only humility.

“Is there anything you would want to say to other guests?” I ask. 

“Even after all of the story since we were here, we still love you,” Rudy said. All of the story.  Such a gentle reminder of such difficult struggles.

“We accept you,” Rudy said, “and hope you can accept us. This place and our people’s evidence [here] gives us hope.”