Apache lands threatened by wildfire
FORT APACHE INDIAN RESERVATION, Ariz. (AP) – As a flaming orange moon rose in the smoky sky, an Apache medicine man raised his voice in song to pray for rain to save both the Indians’ land and their livelihoods. The colossal, 640-square-mile wildfire that has destroyed hundreds of homes in non-Indian communities in Arizona is also raging across the reservation, inflicting economic disaster on the White Mountain Apache, who rely on the lumber business and tourists who come to gamble and hunt.
Timber is one of the main sources of income for the tribe, half of whose 13,000 members live below the poverty line. But now a huge swath of its forests is blackened or burning and probably will not fully recover for two lifetimes. More than 70 sawmill and forestry workers are expected to lose their jobs permanently.
The charred acres also include prized lands where non-Indian hunters pay $14,500 for the chance to bag an elk.
And the tribe’s cash cow, its casino, also lies within the evacuation zone and is closed.
More than half of the forest blackened by the biggest wildfire in Arizona history lies on this reservation, which President Bush included in his disaster declaration Tuesday. The blaze was formed from the convergence of two fires. One was caused by a lost hiker, a non-Indian who lit a signal fire; officials do not know who started the second fire.
No homes have been wrecked on tribal land, but Tribal Chairman Dallas Massey said the Apache have lost something just as precious.
“To us, the land provides. When part of our land is destroyed, we feel our home is destroyed,” Massey said. “It’s always been a part of us. This land is where we are going to live and where we are going to die.”
By Thursday, the tribe’s Hon-Dah Resort Casino had been closed five days and 350 workers were idle. One of its lumber mills is shut down. Estimated losses over the next two months are expected to total nearly $14 million for the local economy.
So far, the fire has destroyed 700 million board feet of lumber with a value of $237 million, tribal officials said. It will probably take a century or more before the damaged commercial timberlands – 157,000 acres as of Thursday – can be harvested again.
Vice Chairman Johnny Endfield Jr. toured charred sections of forest earlier in the week.
“Man, my tribal leaders who were with me were really hurt,” he said. “I think they were crying inside to see this land that was once a beauty.”
Endfield said he resents that so much attention has been paid to the people who have lost houses to the fire.
To the tribe, he said, the damaged land represents their living room, kitchen and bedroom.
“They experienced a loss of structures, but those structures will go back up,” Endfield said. “On our behalf, what we have lost will probably take 150 years to replace.”
One thing the tribe has going for it, Massey said, is a diversified business base. Sightseers, gamblers and sportsmen come here, and the tribe also makes a living off the land through lumber and cattle sales.
“Bad things happen. To me, I look at it in the long run, something good is going to come out of it,” he said. “There’s always the belief the land will come back and repair itself.”
On Wednesday night, nearly 100 members of the tribe gathered at the tribe’s holy ground, near tribal ruins outside of Whiteriver, to pray throughout the night for healing. The medicine man, Harris Burnette, beat his water-filled drum and called for an end to the fire.
The chorus of male voices joined in, their song punctuated with an occasional whoop. The patter of feet quickened in the soft earth as the women moved clockwise in their long camp dresses, swaying with crosses as they danced.
Winds died, smoke began to settle along the mountains and the only thing overhead was a sky full of stars. But no rain.
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On the Net:
White Mountain Apache tribe http://www.wmat.nsn.us/