By Gloria Young, Journal Staff Writer
Scientists believe prehistoric peoples arrived in North America by a
750-mile wide land bridge over the Bering Strait during the ice age.
During periods of warming, they worked their way south, following the
wild game.
Those who eventually came to this area led a nomadic lifestyle. There
was no agriculture because of the long dry season.
The people lived on acorns, game and the seasonal running of steelhead
and salmon. They built structures centered around seasonal villages as
the acorns ripened. In the dry season, they'd move higher into the
Sierra.
The women learned how to leach out tannic acid and make mush from
the acorns. "They were herbalists," said David Kuchera, history
professor at Sierra College. "The shaman had knowledge of
vegetation - so much so that (university level) herbal experts today
would approach their level of knowledge."
Indigenous peoples flourished in California during the 1600-1700s,
interacting with the forest and actually pruning the forest to aid in
hunting. As their lifestyle began to allow more free time, members of
the tribes began to specialize in areas such as constructing bows and
arrows or as warriors.
And as visits to museums today attest, they were excellent basket
makers. "California probably had the best basket weaving in the world,"
Kuchera said.
The land that now comprises California also had the most diverse Indian
population north of Mexico.
By the time the Spaniards began to arrive and the creation of the
mission system, there were more than 300,000 Indians living in
California, numbers that would be decimated as quickly as the
number of white settlers grew. While much of the early European
settlements were near the coastal areas in close proximity to the
21 missions of the Camino Real - the Maidu, Miwok and Nisenan tribes of
the foothills and valley remained largely undisturbed until the
Gold Rush of 1848. "The Gold Rush was very devastating in this area,"
Kuchera said. "There was tremendous loss of life." Disease, murder and
loss of habitat for hunting and survival cut a swath of death
through the Indian population.
By the beginning of the 20th century, the numbers had dwindled to
15,000. Those who survived lived in poverty, many of them
homeless.
The Auburn Indian Community has occupied land in this area since at
least the beginning of the 1900s. Acreage was acquired and the
rancheria officially established in 1917. Times have been tough
for the small group of Maidu and Miwok. Under the Rancheria Act of the
1950s, their land was sold by the United States government, which
also took away federal recognition of the tribe in 1967.
In the struggle just to scratch out an existence, the preservation of
language and much of the cultural heritage was lost. Jessica Tavares,
chairwoman for the United Auburn Indian Community, tells of days gone
by when young Indian children were taken from the tribe and put into
homes where they were beaten if they spoke their Indian language. "They
didn't preserve the cultural resources because of hard times," she
said. "But they stuck together through thick and thin.
They are very close to this day." Among the rancheria
personalities that live in memory is Jim Dick, who was the chief
during the late 19th and early 20th century. Dick saw the small tribe
through a smallpox epidemic that killed dozens.
After the epidemic ran its course, he ordered the survivors to burn
down the ceremonial roundhouse in the village and move it to the area
that eventually became the Auburn Rancheria that exists today. He died
in 1937.
The Auburn Indian community's efforts to regain federal recognition and
pave the way for a better life began in earnest in the early 1990s.
Among those whose efforts are responsible for the progress are Fred
Cooper, Lorene Rey, Douglas Rey and Dolly Suehead, Tavares said.
Tavares came on board in 1995-96 and has been highly effective in
moving through the voluminous legal hurdles and governmental red tape
to regain tribal status and build Thunder Valley Casino, which was
opened to the public on June 8 - the day that was a true life-changing
moment for the 250 members of the tribe.
The Journal's Gloria Young can be reached at:
gloriay@goldcountrymedia.com