"Wardo" Download...
Flint_...@hotmail.com
"He was known as "Wardo" in high school, where he struck a clean-cut
pose as a student-athlete and letterman at Elmwood Community High
School in Elmwood, Ill., a town of 2,100 people 25 miles west of
Peoria, where he had lived since he was a small boy..."
http://www.denverpost.com/Stories/0,1413,36%257E53%257E2709008,00.html?search=filter
aozo...@aol.com
You mean kind of like your recent FBI agent Photo????
Flint_...@hotmail.com
aozo...@aol.com
Flint_...@hotmail.com wrote:
> poor lozer...hee hee
Nope, I agree with you! Much more politcally correct to deal with
Campbell than Churchill for political advantage! And you are, if
nothing else, very politically correct for politcal advantage:
http://westword.com/issues/2005-02-24/news/calhoun.html
Return of the Native
Ben Nighthorse Campbell works in silver, but his future looks golden.
BY PATRICIA CALHOUN
patricia...@westword.com
A year ago next week, Senator Ben Nighthorse Campbell threw a big, wet
blanket on the Colorado Republican Party -- almost as big, and wet, a
blanket as he'd thrown on Colorado Democrats nine years earlier, when
the first-term senator abandoned the political party that had already
seen him through six terms in the House and a dozen years in the
Colorado Legislature. Ben Switchhorse Campbell, they called him back
then.
The Republicans were muttering a lot worse under their breath in March
2004. Ben Nighthorse Campbell's surprise announcement that he was
retiring from the Senate -- just ahead of a pesky ethics investigation
involving a former staffer and some alleged influence-peddling -- left
them scrambling for another candidate. The situation quickly grew more
desperate, as Governor Bill Owens -- just behind a pesky separation --
took himself out of the running. Finally, overlooking the already
declared (and far more erudite) Bob Shafer, the Republicans settled on
Pete Coors, the beer baron whose candidacy fell more flat with each
passing day.
The sight was so dispiriting that Colorado Republicans just couldn't
get excited when Campbell suggested that he might, just might, be
interested in running for governor when Owens is term-limited out in
2006.
A year after he announced that he was retiring from the Senate, where
he was the first Native American to serve in sixty years, Campbell's
not even Colorado's most famous alleged Indian.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The National Museum of the American Indian spirals to a soaring 120
feet above the National Mall in Washington, D.C. And here, at the very
top of an architecturally stunning building that seems designed to
showcase Native American gift shops and not much more, is the traveling
exhibit The Jewelry of Ben Nighthorse.
The show, proposed by Fort Lewis College and sponsored by the Southern
Ute, is a sterling reminder that, however disappointing Campbell may
have been as a Democrat and a lawmaker, he knows how to make a hell of
a bracelet.
Unlike Ward Churchill, who in 1990 lost the ability to sell his
paintings as "Indian" art under the terms of the Indian Arts and Crafts
Act, Ben Nighthorse Campbell has no problem displaying his work as a
Native American. (Then-representative Campbell co-sponsored the
legislation that requires an artist's name to appear on a tribal roll
before he's allowed to represent his art as "Indian.") In fact, this
exhibit, although temporary, was in place the day the museum opened
last September. (Then-representative Campbell also sponsored the
legislation making the museum possible.) And Campbell himself "was
selected to be one of the individuals to lead the Native Nations
Procession for the grand opening of the Smithsonian National Museum of
the American Indian in September 2004," one exhibit explanation notes.
The Jewelry of Ben Nighthorse starts with "The Early Years: Jewelry to
Make Ends Meet," which describes how Albert Campbell taught his
fourteen-year-old son, Ben, to make Navajo jewelry -- a skill he'd
learned not from his ancestors, but from friends. The less polite
chapters of Albert's past, including his alcoholism and the desertion
of his family when his tubercular Portuguese wife got so sick she had
to go into the sanitarium, sending his children to foster homes, are
not shared here.
Although jewelry paid some of the early bills, it wasn't until Ben
Campbell was well on his way to acquiring his amazing resumé -- the
"list of accomplishments reads like a biography of a movie star action
hero, with Korea War veteran, U.S. Olympic judo expert, teacher, truck
driver, horse trainer, deputy sheriff, U.S. Senator, artist," reads one
exhibit card, somehow omitting Harley-rider and ponytail-wearer -- that
he started taking jewelry-making seriously. In 1974, his work won first
place in the California State Fair.
Around this time, Campbell started taking his Indian ancestry
seriously, too. "As an adult, Ben Nighthorse sought out his Native
American heritage even though his father downplayed his Native American
ancestry to shield him from ethnic bias of the time," another exhibit
card reads. "Based on his father's ancestry, Nighthorse was accepted as
a member of the Northern Cheyenne Tribe and, in 1976, the Black Horse
family of Lame Deer, Montana, acknowledged him as their son. A Northern
Cheyenne leader gave Ben Campbell the name Nighthorse in memory of
Nighthorse's great grandfather, Black Horse. Black Horse fought General
George Armstrong Custer in the Battle of the Little Bighorn."
(Then-representative Campbell pushed through the legislation to change
the name of the Custer Battlefield Monument in Montana to the Little
Bighorn Battlefield National Monument.)
Indian artist Campbell adopted as his trademark stamp the Morning Star,
the Cheyenne symbol that represents the "son of the sun and the moon,"
which the Northern Cheyenne gave him permission to use. In doing so,
though, the tribe gave him much more than that. It gave him the tools
to carve out the rest of his career.
In 1977, Campbell moved to Ignacio, built his Nighthorse Ranch, got a
job running the Southern Ute's horse-training center, invented the
"painted mesa" style of jewelry, and soon became a member of the
Colorado Legislature. In 1985, the Northern Cheyenne inducted him into
the Council of 44 Chiefs, responsible for moral and spiritual
leadership of the tribe. A year later, he was elected to the U.S. House
of Representatives from the Third Congressional District.
>From there it was on to the Senate, and his inexplicable switch to the
Republican Party, and then his equally inexplicable decision not to run
again for the Senate. "On March 3, 2004," a final exhibit card notes,
"Ben Nighthorse Campbell announced his retirement from the Senate and
his intention to focus on his family and his art."
Not exactly. Campbell's jewelry on display here may not be for sale,
but the senator himself sure was. Although an eagerness to return to
Colorado was one of the few reasons Campbell offered for leaving the
Senate, last month the high-powered law-and-lobbying firm of Holland &
Knight announced that Campbell was joining its government section as a
senior policy advisor -- he can't join as an attorney, since a law
degree is one of the few things missing from his resumé -- working out
of the Washington, D.C., office.
While Campbell won't be able to officially lobby his former colleagues
in Congress for a year, the buffed and polished former politico is
already making a rumored million bucks.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back when people were questioning Campbell's political switch, they
were also questioning his Indian ancestry. "What do they need, a blood
test?" he asked a Westword reporter.
Campbell's "authorized" 1993 biography, Herman Viola's Ben Nighthorse
Campbell: An American Warrior, did its best to clear things up.
Although many tribal records had been destroyed, Viola theorized that
not only was Albert Campbell's grandfather Black Horse, but his mother
was a Cheyenne girl who'd escaped the Sand Creek Massacre, where 163
Indians were slaughtered by Colorado militia troops on November 29,
1864. As a U.S. senator, Campbell talked a lot about formally
designating the massacre site in Kiowa County as a National Historic
Site. But he waited so long to push the legislation that by the time it
got through the Senate at the end of the last session, it was too late
for the House.
Senate Wayne Allard is now shepherding the proposal through. Last
Wednesday, the day the formal designation of the Sand Creek Massacre
National Historic Site passed the Senate Energy Committee, Campbell was
talking about Churchill, now Colorado's most famous alleged Indian. The
matter of whether Churchill was even an Indian was open for debate,
Campbell told a radio audience. As he shared with another reporter, "He
sure doesn't represent Indian country."
But Campbell sure doesn't represent Colorado anymore, either.
Flint_...@hotmail.com
staff i made...heard he hung it on hiz office wall...sure...he'z a good
ole boi...getz CONFUSED sometimes...but...just aim him in da right
direction and give him a nudge and he'll be good to go...
i think he waz just takin hiz turn wit da coup stick...ya know?