 Janine Bowechop is executive director of the Makah Cultural and
Research Center in Neah Bay. Photoillustration by Zach Mazur and John
Paxson.
A FREQUENT VISITOR to the Ozette site was Ruth Kirk, who, often,
with photographer husband Louis, documented much of Northwest
archaeology and natural history, including, eventually, Ozette.
“I first went out in 1966,” says Kirk. “I already had many Makah
friends.”
What attracted Kirk to the enterprise was the interdisciplinary
effort, all focused on one question. That, and the powerful
sense of camaraderie. “There’s something about working in dust and
mud,” she says. “The Ozette people were like family.”
Kirk wrote, with Daugherty, the most comprehensive account of
Ozette, Hunters of the Whale, a book for juvenile readers.
She published the book in 1974, not even halfway into the whole
expedition. Still, it captures beautifully the complexity and
wonder of the site, also expressing an approach and attitude
she stated recently. “The more we know about the state in which we
have our dance with life, the more invigorated and content
and responsible we are.”
The author of nearly 30 books, many about the Northwest, Kirk
often wrote about and collaborated with Daugherty. After their
respective spouses died, Kirk and Daugherty married, in a ceremony
in a longhouse at Neah Bay.
JANINE BOWECHOP was a little girl when the Ozette longhouses
were unearthed. She is now the executive director of the Makah
Cultural and Research Center, as well as the Tribal historic
preservation officer. As we talk at the center in August, she
worries that it will rain tomorrow, the beginning of the annual
Makah Days. The school gym, where the dancing usually takes place,
is being renovated, so the dancing will have to take place
outside.
Bowechop must have guessed that I started out with the premise
that the Ozette dig revived Makah culture, which I believed before
I knew anything about the Makahs. I had long since abandoned that
notion; nevertheless, Bowechop politely, but firmly, makes sure
that I am disabused of such a misperception.
“The Makah were not fading away before the excavation,” she
begins. “The Makahs would not have stopped singing family songs,
wouldn’t have stopped preserving the language if it weren’t for the
excavation.”
Apparently satisfied that her point has been made, she talks
about what the 11-year excavation did do. It drew young people into
“the process of excavating our past. They learned the science of
archaeology.”
The experience was one of acceleration, she says. By visiting
the site, and living with its presence, and working with the
artifacts, many learned much about Makah fishing and hunting
technology and ritual in a short period.
“It was an intensified learning process,” maybe generating more
meaningful questions than would have arisen otherwise. “But I
would never go so far as to say that it caused a revival of
Makah culture.”
As unique as the Ozette excavation was in so many ways, it also
stood apart, at least from more traditional archaeology, in
that nothing from the site left the Makah reservation.
Everything discovered there is either displayed here in the
cultural center or stored in the state-of-the-art storage
warehouse. The museum is expertly curated and beautiful, the
artifacts mesmerizing.
One would assume that there was occasional friction, as was
often the rule in earlier Native archaeology. But Bowechop
attributes a large share of credit to Daugherty for the project’s
success with the tribe.
“Doc Daugherty was brilliant with PR,” she says. “He knew to
create relationships among the whole tribe, not just work with two
or three people. He knew he had to connect with a wide range
of elders.”
She turns now to Paul Gleeson. “Paul knows as much about Makah
prehistory as anybody. He’s the perfect person to be working for
the park. When it comes to cultural resource management, I think
the Makahs and the Olympic National Park have a better relationship
than you might see across the whole country. So much of it has to
do with the time he [Gleeson] spent at Ozette.”
SHARON KANICHY, who was born the month of the auspicious storm,
now teaches history at the high school in Neah Bay.
“Growing up, I thought, well, Ozette was this archaeological
dig. I didn’t realize it was this great find. I didn’t realize it
was a temporary deal. I didn’t realize the impact on fishing rights
for all the Indians of Washington. It was just a part of my
life.”
But now, as a history teacher, she marvels at the added
dimension to the history of her people and of Washington.
“I teach Washington history,” she says. “Kids will see something
[from Ozette] in the textbook, and they’ll say, oh look,
that’s in the museum.”
Page
1
2
3
4
5
6
Continued
|
