Indian Time - A Voice from the Eastern Door

This column was previously called ‘Elders Highlight’. We found many of our elders were too shy to contribute or maybe they didn’t like the title, so we changed it to ‘Words from the Wise’.

This column is for them to share their life stores and experiences with the community, who they are, where they came from, where they went and stories of their life.

If you are interested in sharing, please contact Indian Time at 518-358-9531 or 613-575-2063. We have staff to listen and help write it down for you.

In 1942, The Holocaust was organized and executed by Adolf Hitler. Hitler’s most controversial ideologies were what he termed “racial hygiene.” Joseph, a Native American boy living in St. Regis, Quebec was torn from his family around this same time. Today, he explains how coincidental it was that something like the Holocaust in Germany was happening while there was Residential School abuse practiced in Canada. In 1928, the Canadian government predicted it would end its “Indian problem” within two generations with residential schools for native children. Their assimilation process consisted of physical, sexual, and mental abuse. This is a story of one out of many of the students who have attended.

Joseph and his brother Albert, whose last names are going to be kept private, were taken from their homes in St. Regis, Quebec by Ontario Provincial Police officers on a 10-hour ride to Spanish, Ontario. They each had a single bologna sandwich the entire trip. When they arrived, they were going to attend the Spanish Indian Residential School. Boys would attend St. Peter Xavier School, while St. Josephs school was for the girls. Upon arrival, the priests exclaimed, “We’re going to get the Indian out of you.” And stressed that they would be punished if they had spoken their native language. Joseph quickly learned that speaking Mohawk had gotten him quite a few strappings.

It wasn’t unusual for Joseph to constantly protect his younger brother Albert. He’d carry large stones in his pockets, which he used in fights to defend himself not only from anyone wearing a black robe but also from other students. There were several different types of natives from tribes and nations dotting all over Canada and some of Northern New York and had often clashed with racism for each other. Joseph grew fearful of the older students, as some would sexually take advantage of the younger boys. Idling by the bathrooms at night in the dormitories, the older classmen preyed on the children. Joseph also witnessed the black robes standing by the beds of students for typically a long time.

Over the years, Joe had been doing excellent academically. He scored second in all of his classes. Joseph had skipped a grade, but was upset that he was going to miss things that he was meant to learn in the grade he skipped. He also was on the hockey team. “We were a really good hockey team because we were scared to lose.” Joe explains. The hockey team tired easily because they were hardly fed, but played their hardest because they feared beatings if they had lost a match, but what they feared most was being kept out of games as punishment.

One day, Joseph’s classmate, Jimmy from Cornwall Island, walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. Joseph turned, to see Jimmy glancing around quickly before digging his hand in his pocket. “Joe, you’re my best friend.”

“I know that.”

“I’m running away.”

“What?! Are you crazy? There’s wolves and bears and –“

“I don’t care, I’m leaving.” Jimmy grumbled, scanning the dormitory.

Joseph stared at him in shock. It was freezing out, he can’t survive. There’s nothing to eat out there, Joe thought to himself, but before he could speak Jimmy pulled a jar of pickles and two slices of bread out of his jacket pocket.

The following day, Jimmy ran away. He left his tracks across the frozen lake. He knew where he was going. When it was realized that Jimmy had ran off, it was Father Hanna’s job to seek out Jimmy. Father Hanna had gathered all the students in the auditorium. He announced to the students that Jimmy had left during the night, with a 30-30 rifle gripped tightly in his hand.

“I’m going to get Jimmy, dead or alive.” Father Hanna hissed.

It was the first time Joseph had heard that expression. Dead or alive.

Father Hanna was hoping to catch Jimmy himself, hoping to get a shot. He was so eager to find him, but fortunately, Jimmy was found by police rather than Hanna in Ottawa. Soldiers were guarding every railroad station during the time of World War II. The guards were searching for anyone who was trying to sneak into Canada. Jimmy had slid boards up under the train to lay on and when he arrived, he stumbled out, his knees aching with bone-chilling pain. That’s when the guards spotted him. It was said that he tried to run, but he could barely even walk.

Back at the school, the priests had gathered all the students back into the auditorium. The boys would question each other quietly asking what was the reason for all of this. Had someone run away again? But as they lined up in rows, the priest answered their question.

“We found Jimmy.” He announced, while his fellow priest carried a bench in. Immediately, nearly every boy’s felt nauseated. They knew what the bench was for, although most had not witnessed it; it was simply the rumors that terrified them. Father Hanna guided Jimmy into the auditorium with his hand gently laid on the back of his neck. All the students’ eyes were staring blankly at them, while they held their breaths.

“And we’re going to show you what happens when you run away from here.”

A priest had left momentarily only to come back with a long large strap. It came from an industrial sewing machine. The strap was made of leather, with the backing of rubber. Jimmy’s eyes widened, he blew out a heavy and disheartening sigh, as if his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

One of the priests began cutting with his shears, strips of Jimmy’s long black hair falling to the auditorium floor in complete silence. Jimmy’s tears streamed down his face and dripped at the floor. He whimpered very quietly, with full knowledge of what was going to happen next.

Joseph had looked at the other boys; a few of them were crying themselves, stricken with fear. He watched as Father Hanna pulled Jimmy’s shirt off and dropped his pants to the floor, he was only wearing his undershorts. Jimmy bent over the bench that was brought in by the priests.

The first crack of the strap made the students jerk back in fear, bursting out with yelps from the crowd. Jimmy had gritted his teeth, wincing with pain. The first hit left a large welt across his back. Again, Father Hanna took it upon himself to hit him with the strap harder. Over and over, this continued, and eventually Jimmy let out a scream and squirmed under Hanna. He turned over because the intensifying pain on his back was too much to take and Father Hanna gave a swift kick to his stomach. By then, all the students were crying out, and Joseph’s anger burned more than the lump in his throat.

Time went by, and Joseph was almost first in class. He sat next to a boy in algebra, named Arthur Coco, who wasn’t athletic at all. His lack of athleticism was made up with his massive amount of knowledge. Joe would sometimes feel jealous of him because he was the person who was first in class. He would always do slightly better than Joseph during testing. One day, Arthur leaned over.

“Hey Joe, do you know anything about sex?”

“It’s the number between 5 and 7.” Joseph said with a grin. Arthur cracked up.

It was around the time that students were graduating. Joe had a small scuffle with his younger brother Albert. It wasn’t really much of a fight since Albert was scared of him. Their small fight was quickly reported and Father Hanna brought Joseph into his office. He knew he was going to be punished, as he stood in front of Hanna’s desk. Joe had always promised himself, after what happened to Jimmy, that if he ever tried Father Hanna to strap him, that Joe would punch him. Father Hanna pulled the strap out of his desk drawer and walked over to Joe.

“Arms out. Roll up your sleeves.” demanded Hanna.

Joseph held out his arms, up high. This didn’t give much room to let the father get enough leverage for each strapping. The black robed father lifted his arm up high, preparing for a hard hit but before he could connect, Joe dropped his arms to his sides at the last second and Father Hanna had hit himself on the thigh. He let out a growl and in frustration, messily swung the strap at Joseph’s face, but it only brushed his face because Joseph leaned back to dodge it and as he leaned forward, he swung a fist into Father Hanna’s face, shoving him over his desk and into the corner of the room where Joe continued to punch him.

In 1952, Joseph had graduated, but didn’t receive his diploma as a punishment. Throughout the years of his life, he became an ironworker and had several children. He later brought a lawsuit against the Canadian government and the Catholic Church. He won the settlement and later got an official apology from Canada. Joseph was recently ill and was in the hospital for a few weeks, a woman asked if he would receive Holy Communion.

“No, thank you.” He replied.