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A rough draft of the spiritual autobiography of Joseph B Wilson. The history that lead to Toteg Tribe.
Copyright 2003 by Joseph B Wilson
- After that gradually Ann stopped returning Joey's calls and their relationship faded. Joey was quite
hurt by that, and Ann never explained why to her. David and I saw less and less of each other at
work since we were seldom at the office at the same time.
Joanna had given birth to Tara on January 5th and our parenthood gave us even less in common
with Dave and Ann. In that month I got a new job as a sales representative with another company
and quit work for Savin. I wouldn't get my first paycheck from my new company until the end of
January, but by being careful we could survive that long on the final paycheck I was to receive from
Savin. By December Joanna and I barely saw the Finnans.
After my final paycheck didn't arrive in the mail when it was due I started to get worried. After a few
days we were starting to get desperate. I telephoned my former supervisor and he told me that the
secretary was holding my check for me to pick up, so even though the weather was bad, it was
raining very hard for several days, I drove the 50 miles to the office to pick up the check in person.
It took almost two hours to drive in that rain. When I got there the secretary said to me, "Oh, I gave
that to Dave Finnan to give to you last week. I knew you were friends so didn't think it would be a
problem."
I was furious. I fumed all of the way back to Sunland then telephoned David. I got their answering
machine, which made me angrier, so I yelled into the phone, "Finnan! You're dead!" and slammed
the phone down.
An hour or so later Ann called and tried to calm things down. Yes they had my paycheck, no they
didn't bring it over "because the weather was too bad". I was angry and told her the least they
could have done was telephone and tell me they had my check. I also informed her that I was
coming over to get my check right then, and to have it ready. I went over there, and she gave it to
me, and I stormed back home. That was the last time I talked to them.
David kept the tape recording of my answering machine message and for years played it to
everyone who came to their house, telling them, "Joe threatened to kill me!" Somehow I don't think
he ever told them the rest of the story.
From that time on they did whatever they could to make people think that they had all there was of
"1734" and to make themselves look good at my expense.
1977 was a pivotal year in many ways. I met Ernie (Longwalker) Peters, a Lakota Medicine Man
who helped people who came from the Indian reservations in search of a better life to survive in
Los Angeles. Ernie was a veteran of the 1972 Wounded Knee occupation and one of the founders
of Athe American Indian Movement. Although I had no desire to "play Indian" (and Longwalker
would have refused to talk to me if I had) I was interested in any advice he could give me.
His best advice was, "You know, Joe, if you or other white folks are really serious about our
spirituality, you won't go asking me, or us, or anyone else about what we believe, our ceremonies,
our regalia, and stuff. Instead you will go out into the woods and talk to the sky, the earth, the rocks,
the rivers, and the streams. And LISTEN to the answers, and listen to your ancestors. Only then will
you start the long path to healing." I finally started to understand.
I started to understand what Sean and Siobhan (as well as Ruth Wynn-Owen) had said many times
about giving respect to MY OWN FAMILY, and to the land on which I lived RIGHT NOW. And I
started to understand what Roy Bowers meant in his third letter to me when he wrote "The answers
to all things are in the Air - Inspiration - the Winds themselves will bring you news and knowledge if
you ask them properly. The Trees of the Wood will give you power and the Waters of the Sea will
give you patience and omniscience, since the Sea is a womb that contains a memory of all things."
It had taken years to sink in through my thick skull, but these ideas began to finally sink in - to fill the
nagging cracks and holes left by all of the "traditions" that I had investigated, learned from, and
even been initiated into.
However I still had problems. I'm an American. All 16 of my Great Grandparents were born in the
State of Pennsylvania, USA. Two of my Great Great Grandparents were born in Ireland, two in
Scotland, and the other 28 in New York and Pennsylvania. Of my 64 Great Great Great
Grandparents two each were born in Germany, Holland, England, and Scotland, and the rest in
New England. Of my 128 Great Great Great Great Grandparents two each were born in England,
France, Wales, Sweden and many are those born in New England and in other places that I could
not find. In other words I'm a homogenized American Mutt. I'm NOT Irish, or Welsh, or Scots, or
Anglo Saxon, or Scandanavian, or German, anything else, though I am descended from all of
them. As Ruth had gently pointed out, it would be disrespectful to all of my ancestors if I were to
play favorites with them.
