One Lodge of Many Voices

Thank you Gerard, Mahd Czee Gehdahds, Miagca. I know I am not alone in this room when I am grateful for Gerard’s example. He is a man of faith, truth, humility and respect.

Good evening to the National Park Service faithful, trail-worn retirees and assorted groupies — for whom we remain eternally grateful.

Senator Tom Daschle was invited to speak. So, as well, were a long list of honored notable alternates, but each in turn was sincerely unable to attend. Thus, the search was on to discover a speaker of sufficient vision to address this group. There was initially, some hope for success but instead, I was chosen.

And so, it is an honor to be asked to speak to you tonight.

We, like those in that long green line before us, look after the shrines of democracy and the treasures of our heritage. Places like Mount Rushmore, where four however noble heads on a hill are like shorthand, an abbreviation from a certain time, if you will, for over 228years of the continuing story of these United States.

Although the rest of the cast of characters was more diverse, it is a story that lives in the hearts of all Americans. Women, for instance, are not directly represented there, comprising slightly more than half our species, I am assured.

Yet speakers of vision like the men carved in that rock have been part of our traditions, from the time of the first nations, long before the first president served this nation.

Perhaps it is fitting that we gather here, (in view of Mount Rushmore) two weeks after — what may surprise you to find out — was a contentious presidential election.

For those of contentiously differing views considering emigrating to Canada, our “frozen neighbor to the North,” I would ask that you please reconsider. We need you here. I invite the contentious and outspoken among you to stay. You, also, make this country great.

I have read that it is probably no accident, that freedom of speech is the first freedom mentioned in the Bill of Rights. The Constitution’s framers believed that freedom of inquiry and liberty of expression were the hallmarks of a democratic society. But historically, at times of national stress, civil liberties come under enormous pressure.

During the “Red Scare” of the early 1920s, thousands were deported for their political views. (The Japanese American Nisei, of the 442nd combat regiment of World War II, served with courage despite the internment of their families.) During the McCarthy period, the infamous blacklist ruined lives and (destroyed) careers. (Martin Luther King was jailed and later killed, for sharing a dream.) Today, the creators, producers and distributors of popular culture are often blamed for the nation’s deep social problems (and attacks by the world’s intolerants).

Not that disagreement isn’t, at times, the Trojan horse. Herbert Butterfield wrote: “The greatest menace to civilization is the conflict between giant organized systems of self-righteousness — each system only too delighted to find out that the other is wicked — each only too glad that the sins give it the pretext for still deeper hatred and animosity.”

Perhaps, the meaning of these National Park Service sanctuaries is an inkblot test of sorts. Many believe, that we in our careers should apologize for history, “clean it up” rather than stir up negative feelings. We are not the apologentsia, though some would prefer a sanitized, moralized, desensitized, that is to say anesthetized telling of our stories. But that wouldn’t be American, and it wouldn’t be the truth. It is American to disagree.

The truth is, whether we came to this land three days ago or our ancestors arrived 3,000 years ago, or whether they were kidnapped to suffer in the fields of our early hypocrisy, it is likely that had the conditions been better, we all might have stayed. The truth is, that in this land of opportunity, opportunity did not come for everyone at an opportune time. Some of the improvements made for the few must have caught on because once here, few stayed without insisting on a few changes of their own.

You might say contention is in our blood. If so, our soil is drenched in it. Even the men on Mount Rushmore, were, after all, men, and smaller than they appear on the rock.

Like many careers, Lt. Washington’s early British army experience had a few hiccups. Somehow an encounter during a chart-making expedition turned into an attack, kicking off the French and Indian Wars, known in Europe as the Seven Years War. Washington did not achieve great success in King George’s army, but we are proof he later learned to achieve great success against them. I can see I don’t have to tell this group how difficult that is to do while wearing a wig, stockings and high heels. He declined to become king himself, becoming instead our first president, citing that after so many long years of struggle, the title “King George” had already been taken and seemed redundant.

Jefferson, it is said, as much as signed his own death warrant when he wrote the Declaration of Independence. As president his vision doubled the size of our nation and tripled its debt. That venture became the Louisiana Territory, then explored by Lewis and Clark, part of which we’re dining in tonight.

In the end — as it was that for many — as grateful as the native tribes were for being “discovered,” Jefferson’s Indian policies were shorter sighted. Thus, here in the Dakotas many speak English as a primary language when on this land, it is at least a second language. Like Washington, Jefferson too, was a slave owner, a deep moral issue that would fester 60 more years.

Lincoln’s military career was somewhat . . . retrograde. He went from captain to private during the Blackhawk War. He was even less fortunate following the Civil War, finding he’d engraved his name on an assassin’s bullet because he stood for the unity of our nation and the emancipation of us all. For that he was again demoted, this time from the living, and promoted to the ranks of the immortal.

Roosevelt gave up his plush government job to charge up San Juan Hill and into history. He led the battle against corruption and monopolies, and fought for the working man. He plunged us into Panama, united two oceans and put America at the gates of two continents. He carried conflicts away from our shores and pushed America onto the world stage. He was also a good friend to the parks, protecting America’s natural and cultural treasures for us all, despite powerful political pressure to do otherwise. He was a character of great character. Whatever he charged into, he left the office everyday at four to play with his children. He should be up there for that, if for no other reason.

A few months ago, there was much talk of adding the visage of another great American to the heads on this hill. Sadly, although appropriate, there is not sufficient geological material, that is to say, rock, to add another head. Besides, for native peoples for whom this area is sacred, graffiti does not get better the fifth time. Thus before we can put up another head, we have to take one down. We are sorry to those who hoped we would, out of respect and on behalf of a grateful nation, otherwise have honored the immortal contributions of arguably the greatest American of the late 20th century — Ray Charles.

But seriously, it is humbling to speak to people united as you are, bound together as one tribe, if you will. No matter what we do, we share a desire in our souls to breathe life into something that will revisit our nation in a good way, to have a piece of our future that bears our hand, a vision of tomorrow with our name on it. The men of Mount Rushmore are proof that what we do will, in generations to follow, be what the young will revere and rebel against.

Because of a great many persons of vision — from our brothers and sisters who serve in harm’s way, to those who serve in the rest of the spectrum of the cause for peace (for blessed also are the nurturers and negotiators), to those of you who serve in these sanctuaries of the human spirit — many such places in the tapestry of our shared, cultural heritage remain indelibly carved in us as well, especially now.

We would prefer to forget that not long ago terrorists sought to change us forever. They have done that. We do not look at our skies the same way, something so big, nor as small and once so ordinary as the mail we receive every day.

Two hundred years ago, a phrase borrowed from the Oneida, a Native American Indian tribe on the verge of extinction, found its way into our language (as the motto of a popular publication), and translated into Latin, onto our money. “One lodge of many voices” became “E Pluribus Unum” or “Out of Many, One.”

It could not now be less obscure.

Terrorism seeks to divide us based on our differences, when our differences, diversity and freedoms should stand as our most cherished strengths. Terrorism will fail.

We stand united — in our differences, diversity and freedoms. In the power of our beliefs and our duty. As I look out on this one tribe, this one lodge of many voices and no matter what our job, the keepers of our heritage and our future, I know that stand, we will. Alden Miller recently completed a detail at Mount Rushmore and returned to his job at Washita Battlefield.