ED FOUTZ INTERVIEW

   

   [BEGIN SIDE 1]

   

    This is Brad Cole from Northern Arizona University.

It's March 9, 1998.  We're in the Rug Room at the

Shiprock Trading Company with Edwin Foutz.  Also

present in the room is Lew Steiger running the sound

equipment.  And we're going to ask Mr. Foutz a few

questions about his background as a Navajo trader.

   

   Cole:  First of all, Ed, I'd like to ask when and

where you were born.

   

   Foutz:  I was born May 7, 1937, in Farmington, New

Mexico.  I guess that's why I love this area.

   

   Cole:  Were your parents from Farmington also, or

what was their background?

   

   Foutz:  My father was from Kirtland--raised and

born--and he was raised here in Kirtland.  The Foutz

family basically came over from Tuba City, where they'd

been sent down by Brigham Young in the 1800's to

colonize Tuba City.  My great-grandfather and his

family moved up here, and of course they've been in the

valley--when I talk about the valley, in the Kirtland-

Farmington areas, the San Juan Valley--ever since.

   My mother and father met at BYU, Brigham Young

University, at Provo, Utah--she being from Provo, Utah,

he being from here.  And he courted her and brought her

back to the Reservation.  Let's see, he was back here

at the age of thirty, and that was in 1939.  He died

during the spinal meningitis epidemic on the

Reservation, and he died [when] he was thirty years

old.  He was a partial owner of Teec Nos Pos Trading

Post at that time.  [He] helped bury one of his

friend's, Red House's, daughters one night.  And about

ten days later he contracted and came down with the

disease, and he died about eight days later in

Farmington.

   

   Cole:  What was his name?

   

   Foutz:  His name was Edwin Luff, L-U-F-F, Foutz.

And actually, I'm a Junior.  I never use the Junior

because we've really never been together, where I've

had to use the Junior.

   

   Cole:  What was your mother's name?

   

   Foutz:  Laprill Sumner [phonetic spelling].  She was

from Provo, Utah.  After his death, she was down here

for some time with the Foutzes--maybe a year or so with

the kids, and then she returned to Provo, Utah.  And I

think after that time, my sister and I came down about

every summer of our life we spent down here with our

grandparents.  Then we returned to Provo, Utah, and

stayed with our grandparents in Provo, Utah, going to

school.

   At the age of fourteen, I went to work with my

uncle, Russell Foutz.  At that time, he had Teec Nos

Pos, and I don't think he had this store at that time.

I went to work for him, helping truck, and just doing

any miscellaneous jobs I could.  I loved it, because I

was learning a lot of things.

   

   Cole:  So is that how you became involved with

trading?

   

   Foutz:  That was the start of it.  Around the Indian

people, that was it.  I loved it, and I liked learning,

and I enjoyed being with him--he was a great teacher,

and I learned a lot from him.

   My mother remarried, and I hadn't had a male figure

in my life, immediately there, and I guess Russell kind

of fulfilled some of that, too--he and Helen.  They

opened their house to me, and they were very, very

gracious.  He taught me a lot.  He taught me this

business.

   As I was raised, I went back to school, and I guess

as I looked at the business, there were so many Foutzes

in the trading business at that particular time--I

think at that time there was maybe twenty some odd

stores under the Foutz name.  They weren't closely

related or connected, but there were Foutzes running

them--my cousins, my third and fourth cousins, and

uncles.  And I decided not to go in [the trading]

business, so for a long time I was doing other things.

I�d owned a Quality ice cream store, and was working

for a company.

   One year, I think it was about in 1964, [I] visited

Russell and Helen in Farmington with my wife.  As we

were driving back to Provo, she said, "Ed, I don't know

that I'm gonna be real happy about it, but every time

you're around the Indian people, you just come alive.

You just have a whole different quality.  I really

think maybe you ought to pursue it."  Well, odd enough,

it was a short time after that, that Russell called me

and asked me if I'd be interested in working in and

buying-into Shiprock Trading Company.  At that time, he

didn't have anybody to run it.  And not that I could

run it right off, but I could learn.  And he wanted to

know if I'd be interested, which I was.  And so a very

short time after that, we moved down.

   

   Cole:  And that was…

   

   Foutz:  That was in 1964.  And I'd worked before

that time.  I'd worked until I was about eighteen,

nineteen years old, with Russell.  I transferred to

Arizona State College, and at that time ran a shop for

Russell on 5th Avenue during the winter months when I

was in school.  Then we would close that during the

summer months and I'd come up here and work at the

trading post.  And so I got to see, you might say, the

retail end of the arts and crafts business in

Scottsdale, and the wholesale business as well as the

trading end of it, where we were trading for livestock

and things on the Reservation.

   

   Cole:  Describe Teec Nos Pos in 1945, when you were

working there.

   

   Foutz:  I'm not sure, and you need to talk to

Russell about that, the year it got moved up to the

road.  For a long time, Teec Nos Pos was around on the

dirt road, or the old road, in the valley, by the

boarding school, and up that little valley.  And of

course that is where it derived its name, which is

"Circle of Trees,"  'cause it was surrounded by these

beautiful cottonwood trees on the wash there.  And it

was an older store.  We'll furnish some pictures of it.

It was what I would call the older-type store.  It was

run on a huge diesel--ran the electricity out there.

That's why I can always remember that, is because of

the wonderful quiet noise it made night and day.  And

you'd finally kind of--what I'd say, the noise would

fade out, because you'd never notice it until it went

off.  And then it became so silent, that something was

drastically wrong.  But they run it off of a big

diesel, so they didn't have electricity out there.  And

it was a bull pen.  And they had an old-type gas pump

out front that you would hand-pump it back and forth.

And it had a reading up in the glass meter to where

you'd pump out seven gallons, if that's what they

wanted, and then you'd put that in the car.  And it was

just what I would call your typical 1940 trading post

with everything behind the bull pen.  It was a high

bull pen with a stove in the middle, the groceries on

one side, the dry goods on the other, along with your

tack and horse and horseshoes and things like that.

They had very little refrigeration, and your

ingredients that you sold at that time were pretty

abbreviated.  When I say that, you would sell one type

of bread, and maybe sweet rolls.  And your fresh meat.

And you wouldn't have a lot of refrigeration for it, so

you'd butcher in the morning, and you'd cut that

carcass up during the day and sell it piece by piece,

but it pretty well all went out during the day.

   It was interesting in that we always had what we

called a guest hogan out in front of the store.  That

was typical of a lot of the trading posts where the

families would come so far, like the ones that lived

down by the Four Corners around the San Juan River.  By

the time they'd come up to the store, they couldn't get

back home that same day, so they would stay over and

use the hogan out front overnight.  And it was there,

furnished by the store, free--it was just a service.

But the people would come up, and a lot of the people

would get there earlier in the day, and then they'd

socialize all day long--talk and visit--and they'd come

in at lunch time and pick up little stuff like

crackers, or maybe corned beef or corned mutton, or

vienna sausage or sardines, or something like that,

just some little light [snacks] to have for lunch.  And

then they would sit around talking in the shade of the

store.  The store most always would close at noon.

Then they'd open about an hour, hour-and-a-half later.

And then the heavy trading or the heavy business went

on from about two to three in the afternoon until

closing, because everybody wanted to get their things

and head out for home.  And so that was kind of a

social time for the Indian people as they came

together.  It was a time they could come together and

find out what others were doing in different areas--

because geographically, they were still pretty isolated

at that time--a few cars, but very few.

   

   Cole:  So what kind of transportation did most of

them have?

   

   Foutz:  Horse.  It was a combination--a few cars and

trucks--a few trucks I should say.  Mostly horse and

wagon at that time.  Now this is at Teec Nos Pos.  And

that was still pretty well that way at that time.

   

   Cole:  About that time period, how would you view

the social and economic conditions of the Navajo

people?

   

   Foutz:  A lot of the social would come together at

the time of dances and things like that, because the

Indian or the Navajo, being nomadic, lived in their

different areas, and they didn't do a lot of cross-

socializing or meeting one another--only at events like

a squaw dance or a fire dance or a sing or something

like this.  This was a great time to come together.

And I think during that period, that's why Shiprock

Fair was so big, because this was a gathering of

Indians from all over this area of the Reservation.

And young people would get to meet other young people

that weren't particularly from their area.  It was a

great time for that.  I think the boarding schools were

still very strong at this time.  A lot of water was

being carried at that time, and probably a lot of use

of what we called river water, as drinking water and

things.  The trader or the trading post was looked on

as a source of water.  They'd come in with their

barrels and fill up the water and carry it back home at

that time.  So that was another service that was

rendered by the trading post at that time, as a center,

because they had, usually, water, and access to it.

Economically, it was what I would call the last of the

trading era.  I think during the 1940's [was] the real

trading period, but there was some cash flow out on the

Reservation, both from payrolls and from Social

Security and welfare, payroll and other sources.  There

were some railroad checks.  There was getting to be a

small cash flow to where everything wasn't trading.

There was some cash and some trade.  And I think it was

during that era that the transfer from all trade on

arts and crafts started to change to where a lot of

times you would buy things at half trade, half cash.

And you would give either a trade slip, if the people

didn't deal with you, or you'd give a trade token or a

trade slip, and then they could trade that out over a

period of time, and then you'd pay the other half cash

for things.

   So the trading era, back in the forties and fifties,

was starting to change--the change being that the cash

flow, and the people wanted cash, because they were

going to maybe outside markets and different demands

for that cash than they've ever had before.

   Cole:  What kinds of things did your uncle let you

do at the trading post during that period of time?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, at Teec Nos Pos I didn't stay there so

much, so a lot of times I was used for trucking

commodities or merchandise out that we would buy here

in town, of suppliers that didn't go out that way with

it.  And a lot of times we�d bring back livestock or

pelts or something that we had traded for from the

particular store.  And a lot of times I'd drive

livestock back in and bring it in to the ranch, which

was at Kirtland.  I would stock while I was at the

store, and boy, I was pretty young back then.  I was,

what, eight, nine years old, and so I was just

learning.  I was trying to drive.  They'd have to take

the keys out of all the cars, or I'd be trying to

drive, like I think any youth that age, and things that

are pretty normal.

   I can remember throwing rugs to Gil Maxwell and

Penny, his partner, when I was about eight or nine

years old at Teec Nos Pos.  So there were times when I

was there, and I'd help fold rugs or unfold rugs.  And

I can remember these very distinctly, because during

that time there weren't a lot of dealers that would

come through looking for rugs--especially wholesale,

where they would take more than just one rug.  And so

it was always a highlight when a dealer came by.  It

was an important time.  And I can remember folding rugs

as they would throw 'em to these dealers.  It was Ed

Crane and Penny and there was a Mr. Keely that used to

go up and he would run up through Jackson Hole and that

country in the summertime and sell a lot of rugs.

There was Ed Green from Boulder.  He would take quite a

few rugs up into the Colorado area.  And yet from

those, there weren't a lot of customers.

   Once a year I can remember the highlight of the

whole summer was going to the Gallup Ceremonials.  I

would help Russell and Helen over there set up a booth,

and then just be in the booth.  And I kind of thought

maybe I was helping.  As I look back, probably because

of my age, I was a lot of times in the way, but they

were very, very good about it, and I think I learned a

lot.  I loved the arts and crafts, and Russell did, and

I think through that I learned a great deal from him.

But at that time we'd always look for accounts at the

Gallup Ceremonial.  And one of the biggest accounts we

always had there was Fred Harvey.  And so when Fred

Harvey used to come by, it was a very important thing,

and they would buy their rugs.  Sometimes it helped

make that whole summer season, and we depended heavily

on that cash, because we have to convert those rugs so

we could buy more arts and crafts the coming fall and

winter.

   

   Cole:  Do you remember any of the buyers from Fred

Harvey?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, Mr. Evans was one of the early ones.

When I was [ten to fourteen], it was Mr. Evans, a thin,

bald-headish man, and I would guess, I'd say

Scandinavian of some kind.  But he was foreign.  He

worked in Albuquerque.  I remember the first stack of

rugs I took over.  Russell sent me over, I was fourteen

years old.  They were in the back of the station wagon,

and I took 'em in there, and I can remember him having

an old broom handle that had been cut off and the nail

was pointing out.  And every rug you'd throw to him--I

don't care the quality or the price of it--he would jab

that in it and pull it apart to see if it had a cotton

warp.  And Fred Harvey at that time would not buy

anything with a cotton warp in it.  So immediately, if

it had a cotton warp, he'd say, "Oh! when will these

weavers learn?!" and we'd fold it back up, and of

course carry it right back out.

   After that I believe it was Trammel Bowman.  They'd

moved their buying office at that time to the South Rim

of the Grand Canyon.  Trammel Bowman then was the head

buyer for the Indian arts and crafts.

   I think after Mr. Bowman, it was probably…  Oh,

gosh.  For a fact, he's been there until just lately,

and I can't remember his name, I'm sorry.  That name

will have to come around to me.

   

   Cole:  So you then worked at Teec Nos Pos for _____

years?

   

   Foutz:  No, I wasn't really working for Teec Nos Pos

as much as I worked with Russell.  And I really stayed

with Russell and Helen in Farmington.  And Russell,

back in that era, did not spend much time at the

stores.  He'd go out for a day and then come back in.

The roads were still dirt, and I can remember in

trucking out to Teec Nos Pos, that several of those

washes would be washing at that time.  And of course

they were hauling a lot of uranium out of Monument

Valley, and so we had convoys of uranium trucks.  But a

lot of the times when the washes would be running, they

would run so high that even the uranium trucks, the big

diesels, couldn't even go through 'em.  And we would

sit there on one side of the wash, if we were going

out, and we had commodities on the truck, so I'd open a

box of sweet rolls and pull out some sweet rolls, and

they'd have a coffee pot, and we'd make some coffee, or

we'd have some pop, and we'd sit there until the water

would go down.  And then they would hook onto my truck,

because it was a deuce-and-a-half, it was still small

enough that the water would go through the running

boards and out through the engine, and they'd pull me

across with a winch.  They could get through, and then

they would pull me through.  But at that time, it would

still take a long time to get out to some of those

roads.  They could be in pretty bad shape real fast

because of the weather.

   

   Cole:  Did you learn to speak Navajo?

   

   Foutz:  I speak fairly good Navajo, as long as I'm

in the store.  You get me to church, or somewhere out

of the store area…  But I would say I speak Navajo

well when it comes to the store, yes.

   

   Cole:  When did you learn?

   

   Foutz:  I think that was something I picked up right

along.  My grandfather, Al Foutz, [who] I stayed with

in Kirtland there when I was very young, taught me how

to count.  He'd be on the front porch, resting on the

couch, and I'd be with him, and for some reason he

taught me to count.  And I think with a lot of young

minds, you pick up things much easier.  And I, for some

reason, never forgot how to count in Navajo, from him,

and some of the things.  He always dealt with the

Indian people.  He'd run trading posts himself, and he

had a part of Progressive Merc, but even after that

time, he would always keep a lot of livestock on the

farm, specifically with the Indian people in mind.

While they were still using horses to pull wagons, he'd

always pick up at the auctions in Cortez and Durango,

animals that he thought would be good for them--either

riding or work horses.  And the Indian people would

come by all the time to buy horses, or to buy cows, or

to buy sheep from him.  And so he was always dealing

with the Indian people there.  So even when I was

younger than that, I was around them.

   

   Cole:  Did your uncle or yourself drive animals to

town?  Or was it mainly just…

   

   Foutz:  Russell.  I was back at the area when we'd

drive the livestock to town, and mainly that would be

your lamb drives.  Russell certainly was involved in

that still, and I still can remember hearing the

stories about how they would start to eat hay or

something with some burrs in, and they would get scabs

on their jaws so bad they couldn't eat, and they'd

start to lose weight.  But it was always a time to look

forward to, because of course your lamb and your wool

season were so important to the trader.  Even back in

that era, that was the way that we really kind of

cleaned off, that people were able to pay their

accounts completely off, was if they sold their wool or

their lambs.  Then that was a time that the traders

pretty well got their accounts receivable or their

accounts down to where they could pay their bills, and

pay the bank off, maybe, on some of the note that they

owed them.  Very important.

   

   Cole:  How would you describe the Navajo-Anglo

trading relationship at that time period?

   

   Foutz:  At that time period?  Oh, I think probably

the trader was a great intermediary between the outside

world and the Navajo.  The Navajo, up to that time, had

been very isolated.  He relied a great deal on the

local trader for a lot of his communication, and to--

what would I say?--to find things that he had got, on

how he could qualify for welfare or Social Security.  A

lot of times it was just how well the trader, and how

up the trader was on things.  And so the Indians relied

on him heavily for that type of thing economically.  I

think the trader became, a lot of times, relatively a

good friend, somebody they could really trust and rely

on.  And when I say a friend, it wasn't just a

business, seller-buyer type situation, but it was

somebody that they could come to when they really

needed it, whether they could pay back or whatever, but

they knew they could rely on that person to help.  And

I think that went both ways.  I think there were great

relationships back in those eras.  And of course they

relied on each other so much.  But the trader, I think,

went beyond that.  I think a lot of times he was…

Between that, he was the banker.  I think he was the

postman.  When letters would come in from, let's say,

people in World War II--some of the young ones went off

to World War II--that he was the one that would read

the letter a lot of times, or be able to read a letter

to 'em, because a lot of times they didn't have

somebody that could really read that much at that time--

or the kids would be away to school.  So a lot of

reliance there.

   

   Cole:  Did you ever fill that role when you were at

that age?

   

   Foutz:  No.  No, Russell always had either Jay or

Lloyd Foutz there, or somebody older that was looked on

as the local trader.  I was not the trader.  And I

think to really get to that level where the people had

trust in you, you would have to spend some pretty solid

time there, as Jay and Lloyd did, and Russell himself

had been there long enough that the Indians had enough

trust that they would deal with them.  And I didn't

speak good enough [Navajo], and because of my age, back

in that era, they did not [speak enough English].

Later on in my life, here at Shiprock Trading, I did

that many times.

   At the time of a death, called on--not just to help,

but to maybe speak.  Just any way that you could, you

would try to fill in, because they were adopting our

way of life, and sometimes it wasn't too comfortable

for them.  And while they wanted to do some things,

they didn't quite know how to do it.  And they maybe

did know how to do it, but they didn't have confidence

that they really did, and so they would use you to make

sure of that confidence to back them up, you might say,

in a lot of ways.

   Financially, you were a go-between a lot of times

with the finances at this period, because at that time

the banks weren't out here.  There was a bank now at

Shiprock, and there are branches out on the Reservation

now as we speak, but back in that era, there was not.

They were either in Farmington or Gallup or some border

town.  And consequently you had to do a good share of

the financial counseling for 'em.  And that was really

basically lending money.  And that was in the form of

pawn, or on livestock, or possibly on their account

that they'd pay off with livestock or wool and mohair.

   It was interesting.  You look back at the trading

eras and the first time that we really got a cash flow

out here on this reservation of any substance was

during the Roosevelt days when the New Deal came out.

They started building reservoirs out here, and doing a

lot of water work in drilling small water wells and

reclamation work.  And that was some of the first

substantial checks that were out in this country.  And

up to that time, it was almost purely trade.  And so as

you come away from that era, you just constantly get a

little greater cash flow out here, and then with the

advent of uranium and oil and gas, and just the jobs

that came along with things like that, you started to

get substantial cash flows.

   

   Cole:  As a child working for your uncle, did you

have time to play, and did you have playmates?

   

   Foutz:  Yes!  I had a group of cousins.  My Uncle

Bob and Aunt Helen had kids, as Russell did too, and I

played with all that group, yes.  Really, most of 'em,

because of my age, they were my cousins up there, but

kids here in Shiprock I got to know real well.  And as

we moved here, yes.  My kids were raised and went to

school here.  Yeah, some of the good friends I have are

Indian people, are from out here.  And they were great

times, but really from the time I was, I would say,

twelve or thirteen, I really didn't take a lot of time

to play.  I think I was more interested in working and

staying busy.  And once I started with Russell, it was

pretty well work most days.  Now, to me, that was

playing, I enjoyed that.  I don't look back on it as I

missed anything.  We'd play in the evenings, and I

certainly had those times when we'd enjoy long weekends

and that, but still we were pretty busy during the day.

   

   Cole:  Would you say that--I'm sort of curious--

Navajo kids your age, were they also pretty busy, they

had things to do?

   

   Foutz:  Well, at that time most of them--I'll

qualify that--were not living in big areas, so they

were living on small farms.  So they had things to do.

They had livestock to look after, they had

responsibilities, and they were expected to take care

of those responsibilities--whether it was tend to the

sheep or the livestock or help with the hay in the

garden, and things like this.  And the girls were to

help with the weaving and cooking and things like this,

and they were brought along.  And so it was very

interesting, because during that era, they were nomadic

and spread away from each other, and you can't help but

notice as you come into Shiprock, as the people have

built these housing projects, through both the tribe

and the government, and then just the people, because

jobs around here will look for places, and they built

places here.  But slowly as these people have come

together, the young people don't have things to do

anymore, they don't have the responsibility, and they

have extra time on their hands.  And so for the very

first time, as these kids came together, we started to

have problems with groups, you might say, at night.  As

kids got together, they started looking for things to

do, and some of those things were maybe looking for

trouble--or they ended up in trouble.  No different

than we were, but it was interesting, because you could

definitely see the shift happening.  And it's even

still happening, on more of an accelerated basis.  And

here in Shiprock…  Did you come in from Gallup?

(Cole:  Yes.)  You maybe saw the area that all those

little houses out there were built for the Fairchild

Semiconductor Plant.  I almost say that that was like

putting together, once the jobs left, that, to me, as I

watched families come in there, and the kids have

nothing to do, that you might say that in a small way,

that was like building a ghetto, in that the same

things happen.  The kids didn't have anything to do

when they got there, and all of a sudden they were

looking for things to do, and boy, we really had some

hard things going on in town, as we still do today.

Not just because of that, but it was just an

interesting thing to see happen, as you look back now--

that you don't get to see capsuled, finite things like

that happen in many communities like you did out here.

So things have really changed, it's changed a great

deal, as the cash flow…  The roads, of course, came

along--the area of transportation changed.  And with

that, the demands of the people changed.  And then I

think the really big change came about with the advent

of communication:  Your radio and your Navajo Hours

that were aimed and beamed almost straight at the

Navajo people in the way of advertising and things.

And it used to be at the old trading post that fashion

lagged maybe two or three or four years behind the

fashion, let's say, in the country.  If pointed tennis

shoes were in, somewhere maybe three or four years

later, they would be in demand on the Reservation.

With the advent of radio, and especially with TV, the

young people, as well as all of  'em, were brought into

the world today.  So if chocolate Cocoa Pops were

popular as a cereal, that's what you'd better stock in

your store, because that's what the kids would be

coming in and telling their parents they wanted to buy.

And so things changed pretty radically.  You couldn't

carry just the good old standard things that we used to

in the early days in trading posts.  Their demands,

like everybody else's, started to change and widen, and

we started carrying a greater selection of meat.

Instead of just mutton and lamb, we carried chicken and

luncheon meats and things like this.  And in the early

days you'd never see that, because of refrigeration of

things, as well as for just…

   

   Cole:  Did you have a nickname?

   

   Foutz:  I think most people are given a Navajo name.

The Navajo people are a very descriptive people, and

they give you names.  And it's a very interesting

thing.  Do you know why there's so many Begays?

   

   Cole:  I have no idea.

   

   Foutz:  Begay means "So and So's son."  So if your

father was given a name, and you were the first son,

you'd be your father's name [followed by] Begay.  My

father's name was �Ashkii Tsoh, which was "Big Man"

[Big Boy], and I was �Ashkii Tsoh Biye� to a lot of

people from Teec Nos Pos, but a lot of  'em didn't know

my father.  So I was so associated with Russell, and he

was called D�gh�ch��, which in Navajo means "Red

Moustache."  So I was called a lot of times D�gh�ch��

Y�zh�, or D�gh�ch�� Biye� "his son."  And really, in

Navajo, he's my �ab�zh� y�zh�, or my uncle on my

father's side.

   

   Cole:  When you came back in the sixties and

actually owned a post, did that name stick?

   

   Foutz:  Yes!  Oh, the Indian people knew my father,

and of course Russell was here with a partner with me.

And even more than everything else, rather than being

called �Ashkii Tsoh Biye� at that time, I was called

D�gh�ch�� Y�zh�, which was "Little [Red Moustache]."

I didn't carry a Red Moustache, but I was with Russell,

and that kind of, to a lot of people, associated us

together here at the store.  And so I was really called

D�gh�ch�� Y�zh� a lot of times.

   

   Cole:  How did the supply system work?  Like, say,

in the forties when you worked for Russell, how did

they get diesel, gasoline, and groceries out to the

trading post?

   

   Foutz:  There were a few large suppliers that would

come by, but most of the time you'd buy your stock or

let's say you'd stop by Farmington Merc.  That was the

big supplier in town, and they carried a lot of the

trading posts from wool season to lamb season, or you

ran an account there, and very seldom did most traders

pay up their account.  They would pay it up once a

year.  And I think they would carry a lot of dry goods,

Pendleton shawls.  They would carry tires, they would

carry almost anything the trader would need, and you'd

back in there, or you'd send an order in, and they

would fill that order, and you'd go back at the end of

the day and they'd have it sitting out on the warehouse

floor.  And you'd back up your pickup or your bigger

truck to it, and you'd load on that order and take it

out to the store at that time.  As things progressed

along, and as Kimball started to come out, they would

actually deliver to some of the stores out on the

Reservation if the roads were good enough.

   

   Cole:  Who is Kimball?

   

   Foutz:  Kimball was a supplier that I believe--and

I'm not quite sure--I think they bought out possibly

Farmington Merc, it become Charles Ilfeld, and then I

think Kimball's was a large wholesaler in this region,

and they bought out Charles Ilfeld, and I think [it]

became Kimball's.  For a long time Kimball's serviced a

lot of the trading posts and small businesses up in

this area.  Then slowly, as the Associated IGA or

Associated Grocer came in, we joined for the first time

in Denver.  And so we were supplied from the Associated

Grocer Company from Denver.  And at that time, for the

first time, we became fairly competitive.

   But backing up, as you move around, your mind takes

off on one phase, but during that phase of time,

Kimball was serving then for the very first time.  We

would start to get flour from Tanner's Flour Mill in

Cortez.  He would deliver out to the stores, and he'd

bring out maybe a full truck at a time.  And for a

store like Teec Nos Pos, that would maybe hold us for

three weeks to a month.  They would supply us with one

truckload of flour, or a partial lot, and they would

drop some at Beclahbeto and some at Teec Nos Pos.  And

these were still dirt roads at that time, and so a lot

of suppliers didn't come out.

   Then you were pretty well--you had a few reps, what

we called representatives, coming through, selling dry

goods, like Henry Yeltsin, and Herbie Mann from Phoenix

had National Dry Goods.  And there was the Babbitt

Brothers had their wholesale place in Flagstaff.  And

then there were several little ones, the Rio Grande

Lotion Company started coming out with salesmen and

that.  They found out enough business was out here,

that they'd work this area.  And they would slowly

start to deliver out here.  But before that time, boy,

you were pretty well dependent upon a supplier if you

lived up in this area out of Farmington.  And we'd pick

things up from Charles Ilfeld or Kimball's.  And then

later on they'd start to deliver, as the companies got

bigger--like Kimball's would start to deliver to the

store.  And then after Kimball's, IGA came in.  And for

the very first time I feel like we got relatively

competitive, because of that association.  We could

belong to a large group of people, buying in such

volume, that our things were delivered at a fairly

competitive price--and much fresher.

   

   Cole:  And that was…

   

   Foutz:  And that was when I was here at Shiprock,

and I'd say that's probably in the, oh, probably 1970's

and maybe early 1980's, that IGA came in.

   

   Cole:  And who would you have been competing

against?

   

   Foutz:  Here in Shiprock?  (Cole:  Uh-huh.)  There

was Bruce Bernard Company up just here on the hill.

And then there was Bond and Bond Company, that had been

here a long time, down on the river.  And then Mannings

opened a store that Charles Dickens had.  They bought

them out.  And then there was Manning Trading Post.

Back in the very early time, there was two or three

stores here, but when we started, there was Bruce

Bernard, Shiprock Trading Company, and Bond and Bond,

and then there was a little convenience store over here

run by the…  Oh, the family from Cortez.  Again, the

name slips me.

   So it was competitive, we did have competition here

for almost any phase.  Whether it was the Bernard�s and

us--we were competitive for livestock.  The other

companies, we were competitive for arts and crafts as

well as any business.  So for the first time we had

some pretty strong good competition, which was good for

the Indian people, as well as good for our business.

It made us stretch a little more.

   I think when I ran this store, as I got a little

older, I had one great advantage, and that's we bought

so many arts and crafts.  Russell had a great love of

arts and crafts, and he knew 'em well.  He, at that

time, I think, had decided that if he was going to be

real good at arts and crafts, that you had to establish

outlets.  And consequently, he was out working hard to

establish those outlets--Fred Harvey.  Russell worked

with Fred Harvey, and he worked with accounts a great

deal, building up the type of thing they wanted, and he

would listen to 'em and go back to the weavers and work

with them to try to find marketable things that would

be more marketable the next season, and come up with

new ideas.  In doing that, he was instrumental in

bringing Germantown wool back to the Reservation.  Now,

a lot of people were critical of that at the time,

because they said, "Well, aren't handspun rugs better?"

Well, they were, if the weaver could handle it.  But a

lot of times a weaver would spin all of her wool, do

her hand dying with her homemade coloring, and come in,

and the end product was very unsalable.  Now, a lot of

weavers could handle--let's say half the weavers could

handle it well, but the others had a hard time between

dying and coloring and keeping a rug straight and the

pattern going, to where when they got through with six

months' work, they'd bring it in, and you'd rather not

buy it, because you didn't know where you'd go to sell

it.  And it was really a hard thing.  By bringing the

commercial wool back in, we could take a weaver like

that, and she could double her output, control her

coloring, and I think to a lot of those weavers, we

tripled and [quadrupled] the money they were getting in

a year's time.  So I think when you look at one side of

it, you might argue the point, if you're a purist and

said, "Well, gee, handspun wool's the best," but

looking at the overall marketability of the rugs, not

just that, but the quality that came out on your four-

ply yarns were just almost as good as your handspun.

But we certainly put more money in the hand of the

maker.

   

   Cole:  So Germantown…

   

   Foutz:  Is a commercial yarn rug, or a four-ply

yarn.  The original, where the Germantown word comes

from is the very, very early four-ply yarn that was

used back in the early, early 1900's in the Germantown

rugs, came from Germantown, Pennsylvania.  And so it

was always referred to as Germantown.  We bought a lot

of our wool from New Richmond, Ohio, from Crescent and

Klassen [phonetic spelling] Woolen Mills, back in the

early days here.  Russell worked very hard about

establishing great wool connections.  And when I say

wool connections, [I'm talking] about the processing of

good wool for the weavers.  And he was always looking

for new markets.  And he worked with them to where he

refined it.  He wasn't just taking the colors, but he

wanted certain colors that would be marketable.  He

worked with 'em long enough, and he was able to buy

enough of it, that they would listen to him, and dye

the colors that he needed, to where he came up with

colors that were very, very good for, let's say,

Shiprock yei'iis--beautiful greys, beautiful beiges--

and consequently the market just absolutely opened up,

and we were able to sell a lot more of 'em, because

they were more attractive to the average buyer, and we

were able again to put more money in the weaver's hand.

And that's very important when you're here, looking at

the source.  You don't think of just the market out

there, you've got to think of the supplier, too, or the

maker.  And I think Russell was very conscious of that,

and we were, and I was taught that.  We've worked at

that very, very hard, and as we made outlets for it,

then we could buy more arts and crafts, but also you

had to stay on the road selling.  And so a lot of times

we were out selling, and I think when I was relatively

young, at that time I was buying in with Russell, or

buying part of Shiprock.  We went for the very first

time to what we call a "market" up in Denver.  It was

the Merchandise Mart in Denver, and it was a gift show.

And we took a booth and we sat up and we sold to

customers for the first time.  Well, not only at the

gift show do you sell, but you were able to go

completely around that market, and maybe there were

four or five hundred suppliers at that time, and so you

were seeing new lines that we could buy from:  scarves,

new commodities that the Indians were looking for in

the colors that they liked, that weren't just coming

through here.  So we didn't become just reliant on the

suppliers coming through, but we widened the market

that we had, and we went out and bought things, and so

we became very competitive, price-wise, and I think our

selection was much greater for the first time.  And I

think that helped build the store to the level that we

were able to build it.

   

   Cole:  What other types of arts and crafts were you

dealing, [in addition to] rugs at that time?  Anything?

   

   Foutz:  Rugs and a few baskets, a little Navajo

pottery.  And back in the 1950's the very first sand

paintings that I ever could remember coming in, were

brought in.  The very earliest ones were from Freddie

Stephenson [phonetic spelling] in Chinle, and he was

called Grey Squirrel.  Relations of his, Patsy and

Frances Miller from Sheep Springs, started bringing a

few in.  And then James Joe, that was also related to

that family, started doing some work here in Shiprock.

And I can remember Russell buying a small box of sand

paintings, different sizes, from James Joe, and we took

'em to Scottsdale for the very first time, and people

liked the idea, but they didn't quite know how to react

to it.  And slowly, as people built up a little

confidence that they were an art form, they started to

move.  And just slowly--and it was slow at first--we

started to establish a market for sand paintings.  But

a lot of the people back in that time would not do sand

paintings, because it was duplicating a religious deity

on something that couldn't be destroyed.  That was

really against the Navajo religion, to an extent.  Now,

a lot of the sand painters got around that by altering

colors or altering some of the personages enough that

it wasn't a duplication of anything that they felt like

would be holy to the Indian people.  And yet it was a

very sensitive issue for a long time.  A sand painter

would come in, and he never wanted to show his sand

paintings out front--he'd always kind of bring them in

a back room to show them.  And there was just enough

sensitivity to some of the people on both sides that

they just kind of honored that.  And so that was

interesting.  The first sand paintings that came in, we

never framed.  We sold thousands of sand paintings

unframed before we ever thought or got the idea of

framing them ourselves.  And now almost 95 percent of

the sand paintings that we handle--and you saw the

quantity of them--are all framed now.  So our framing

bill is immense every month.  Sand painting is a big

business now.  Back in that era, it was pretty well

rugs, where the big stay, we had some pawn jewelry, we

had some new jewelry, but most of it was rugs and small

things like that.  That's one thing the Foutz family

was known for, was always Navajo rugs, back in that

early era.

   

   Cole:  So what was the size of the Shiprock Trading

Company when you moved in here?  Was it still a bull

pen operation?

   

   Foutz:  It wasn't a bull pen, no.  It was a very

small store up front, and it was self-service.  The

Jack family had owned it for some time, and they really

needed to sell it financially.  They had gotten

themselves in a financial bind, and so Russell bought

it, and it took us a while to bring it back.  But our

big feature at that time was--no, it was self-service,

and of course we sold a lot of corned mutton and corned

beef.  Your lards and your shortening were a big thing.

Coffee was a big thing.  And we didn't have a lot of

refrigeration right at first--we had two or three small

cases, and then one small case of meat.  Joe Harris,

who went to work for Russell at a very, very early

time--I'd say in the forties or early fifties, I guess--

was with us for twenty-some odd years, and was always

the butcher.  The Indian people took a great liking to

Joe.  Joe was [of] some Indian [tribe from] back East--

I think it was Choctaw or one of 'em--but he and his

wife--his wife worked for the Bureau of Indian Affairs

here, and Joe worked here at the store.  But we had

fresh meat, and that was one thing the Indians would

always come in for, was they liked their meat fresh,

and they knew how they liked it.  They were very, very

fussy with their preparation, and how they wanted it,

and how fat they wanted it.  They were much fussier, I

think, overall, than the Anglo woman or person,

shopping.  They knew their meats.  And of course they

were sheepherders, and so they ought to.  And they were

very, very good at it.

   Not a lot of vegetables.  Most of your vegetables,

because of the lack of refrigeration, were dry.  It was

potatoes and onions and some bananas and oranges--

things like this--but nothing exotic like we have

today.  In our own supermarkets we've gone through

immense changes.  As we think of the market today, I

think back then it's been immense.  Out here it was

even more startling.  So they were pretty limited in

the things that we carried there, but they were self-

service, and the people could pick up things.

   A big majority of the store at that time, I'd say,

probably at least half when Russell first bought the

store, was credit, and half was cash.  And that trend

just constantly, that percentage just slowly changed

until it became almost 10 percent trade or charge, and

90 percent to 95 percent cash.  The store was very in

volume, compared to what it was four or five years ago--

it was very small--small volume.

     We slowly added to the store.  I think it went

through three or four major changes.  It's interesting

to me, and I'd just like to take note, because I think

a lot of people wonder about why they didn't see more

stores built and added onto during that era of time.

The Navajo Tribe, by the lease that they gave, back in

the early era were giving twenty-five-year leases.

After that time, they'd give shorter leases, maybe ten,

fifteen years, during the era that I came in.  They

would own--immediately after like we did the expansion

here and spent a lot of money--they own those

improvements.  And for some reason, had they wanted to

break [the] lease, or they would find some clause that

I was not doing right, that they could put me out of my

lease, they would not have to pay me for the

improvements, they owned those.  They own the building

and improvements to the lease.  Consequently, a lot of

the traders, or a lot of the people out here, didn't

want to spend a lot of money, because they didn't know

how long they'd be out here.

   There was always, oh, what would I say?  Talk in the

background, sometime the Navajo Tribe would want to

take the trading posts over, and see that these were

run by the Indian people.  And I think it made a lot of

your Anglo or white traders a little nervous--

especially in enlarging their stores or spending a lot

of money out there to improve.  And I think

consequently, during that era, you didn't see a lot of

improvement in the stores, because of this.

   

   Cole:  What year did Russell first buy this store,

do you know?

   

   Foutz:  Boy, you're gonna have to talk to Russell.

I think I would just back up.  I'd probably say back in

the fifties.  I'd say early fifties, probably 1954,

1952, something in there--so it was early fifties, that

he's had this store since then.  It's my understanding

that this store was started by Mr. Elgart [phonetic

spelling] that was in Tuba City.  He was down there,

Tuba City was, I think, originally settled by a group

of Mormon people that were sent down by Brigham Young.

At that time, it wasn't on the Navajo Reservation, and

they had beautiful farms going there.  And because of

the locale, and because the Indian people were

relatively close, Mr. Elgart built a trading post down

there, and I think you've got a wonderful picture of it

in your archives.  Well, when they extended the Navajo

Reservation, the people had to sell their farms out.

And so the Bureau of Indian Affairs at that time bought

the people out, and my great-grandfather with a segment

came up here.  Mr. Elgart came up with them.  That was

my understanding, that he started this store in about,

I believe, 1894.  And then I'm not sure, but I know

Jess Foutz at one time worked here and had part of this

store.  And then it went to the Evans family, and I

think from the Evans family to the Jack family, and

then from the Jack family, Russell bought that, and

ever since then, it's been in the Foutz group.

   

   Cole:  When you came in, in 1964, I'm sort of

curious, what was the situation with transportation and

the Navajo people in 1964?

   

   Foutz:  Okay.  Here we're on what we'd call the

periphery or the edge of the Reservation.  So there are

more cars per capita here than you would find on what I

would call further out on the Reservation or the

interior of the Reservation.  But here in 1945 I would

say more cars, and if not--certainly not every family

had a car--they had a relation or somebody that they

could get access to a car if they had to go to

Farmington.  But I think even back in that era, people

did not travel or go to town like we do today.  I think

maybe the average family would go to Farmington maybe

once every two or three months, maybe monthly.  And

there were some that worked maybe just slightly off the

Reservation--they went more, but not a lot.  While they

were traveling quite a bit, the average one didn't go

around.  And of course even back in that era, the

Indian people would actually pay somebody to take them

to town that had a car.  So this was a way that some

people made money.  They didn't run a taxi cab, per se.

We could call it that, but they had a transit service,

you might say, and they rented that to the other

people.  That happens even today.

   

   Cole:  Was it still fairly common then to see people

on horseback, wagons?

   

   Foutz:  Not as prevalent here in Shiprock.  It was

getting to be a little uncommon to see wagons.  You'd

see wagons and that, and I think I've got one picture,

and I'll never forget it, of an old wagon and team of

Willy John's.  He used to work at the store.  But one

winter he pulled up back here, and the whole harness

had been made out of old water hose.  He couldn't

afford a harness or a harness setup, but because the

[hose] was flexible and everything else, he'd made the

whole harness out of this rubber hose.  And it was the

darnedest-looking setup you've ever seen, wrapped

around his horses and that.  But the wagon was going

just fine and that.  But as you went not too far out on

the Reservation, just say to Teec Nos Pos--let alone

Chinle and that--you saw a high proportion of wagons in

that area.  Here in Shiprock, just because of the edge

of the Reservation, and because industry came in like

Kerr-McGee, and we had the helium plant here, and we

had a small settlement at that time.  No, we had more

transportation here.  The horses would be here, but the

wagons were going fast.

   

   Cole:  Was that uranium?

   

   Foutz:  Kerr-McGee was uranium.  It was a rendering

or a processing plant here.  They brought the uranium

in from several places on the Reservation, notably

Monument Valley.  In fact, you can see the big tailings

pile out here that's been covered.  It was huge.  But

they had a big payroll.  Plus they built quite a group

of beautiful homes down here for the Reservation, for

their management and for people like that.

   

   Cole:  Is that where the Dine College houses are

now?

   

   Foutz:  No.  That would be the Navajo Community

College over there.  That was right down here back of

the old chapter house.  I think most of the houses have

been leveled and taken away.  And the helium plant was

out here across in the flat back of the shopping

center.  And they had about sixty to a hundred homes

out there, done in a subdivision with beautiful trees

and everything else.  That was a big thing, the

processing of helium here, that would come from that

Rattlesnake find right up here by Shiprock.  They

worked a lot of people.  Kerr-McGee, that, and Helium

Corp., yeah.  Big payrolls.  Shiprock was quite a

community at one time.

   

   Cole:  So by the middle 1960's, when you became

involved with the trading post here, would you say it

was mainly a cash economy then?

   

   Foutz:  In the 1960's?  Yes.  But what it had been,

it was converting into a cash.  I think, oh, when you

say "cash," okay, it was cash with a lot of emphasis on

welfare and Social Security.  When I say "welfare," the

distribution of state welfare commodities was a big

thing at that time.  Your welfare and Social Security

paydays were very big.  Your livestock, we were still

trading here at the store some sizeable livestock

accounts--notably wool and mohair--the Garnezes, the

Kendalls, the Knights, the Lights--were all related,

but they were big livestock families.  And we still

traded on the account with those things.  We would run

probably one-and-a-half McKaskeys of just charge at

that time.  Some of those would be welfare checks, some

of 'em would be payroll checks, like the Navajo Tribe.

And some of 'em would be livestock.  But by far cash is

the most thing, yeah.

   

   Cole:  What is a "McKaskey"?

   

   Foutz:  The McKaskey is an old metal box you'll see

out there that closes.  It was the McKaskey Company,

and they made charge account receipt holders, and they

would make 'em fireproof, so when you closed it at

night, it was so heavy-metally, that if you had a fire,

up to that time it would withstand some of the heat and

not ruin your accounts.  And also, it had a lock on it

so you could close those accounts at night and lock it,

so if you were broken into, they couldn't steal all the

accounts and you wouldn't know who owed you money.  And

so it was the McKaskey Company--I'm sorry--that did

that.  And if you went to any trading post in the old

days, you'd always see their charge accounts.  It's

very interesting.  As you go out in Jay and Loyd's at

Beclahbeto, say, you'll see racks of these books

stacked up with the family's names on.  And that's why

I wanted you to stop by there, because that store is

like going back twenty years here, because they charge

still today, to so many of the families.  Your average

store does not charge today.  For a fact, there are

very few trading posts, per se, left, that buy

livestock.  When we say "trading post," you know the

trading era kind of evolved from all trade, the cash

trade, and then slowly the convenience store kind of

come in.  And your local came in, your big stores at

Kayenta and Tuba City and Chinle--City Market and

Basha's came out here.  And so slowly the convenience

store took over where the trading post once was.  And

yet there's still livestock out here.  And so there's

still the need for some services that buy,

competitively, livestock and wool, mohair, and things

like that.  While the market's decreasing, there's

still some here.

   The sheep have decreased for two purposes, I think.

First of all, they've lost their sheepherders.  Years

ago, during the forties when I came out, and during the

thirties, I think most families would kind of hold back

one of the children or one of the kids and basically

say that he was not going away to school, but he was

going to stay home and become the herder, or the one

that looked after the flocks or the sheep.  So they

basically had the sheepherders built in.  Well, the way

that the Indians take care of their sheep, you've got

to have a sheepherder, they've got to go out every day

and go out to a different part of their [grazing]

permit to keep the feed coming along.

   

   [END SIDE 1, BEGIN SIDE 2]

   

   Cole:  This is Brad Cole from Northern Arizona

University.  It's March 9, 1998.  We're at the Shiprock

Trading Company in the Rug Room with Ed Foutz.  Also

present in the room is Lew Steiger, who is running the

camera and sound equipment.

   Ed, could you continue?  We were talking about the

role of the sheepherder in the Navajo family.

   

   Foutz:  Well, as you know, as the livestock has

changed out on the Reservation, the role of livestock,

it's interesting to me, because back in the early days,

you know, really, basically, the Navajo really grew up.

As they were nomadic, they took with them their sheep

herds.  They relied on their wool, they relied on

several things that came away from the sheep, the lambs

for increase and of course the meat of the sheep,

mutton, to eat.  But as the new era came in, so to

speak, and as we said that all their kids needed to go

away to school, for some time that wasn't enforced to

the point that a lot of the younger kids--or not a lot,

but somebody in most families were retained out of that

to stay home, to become the herder, and basically were

never sent to school.  A little later on, some of the

older parents had to supplement the sheepherding, and

then now, they really have a hard time finding herders

to stay with their flocks, and so they either have one

of two alternatives:  and that is to either take one of

the older ones out, or put flocks together, or keep the

flock in the corral sometimes, feeding them hay.  At

the price of hay today, you find that even though they

love their herds so much, it's a very expensive thing.

And consequently, you've seen more of your Indian

people go to cattle, or to cows, and that on their

grazing permits they don't have to herd the cows every

day, or look after 'em.  They check on 'em maybe once

every two or three days or once a week, and keep track

of 'em.  Then that doesn't take near the time that it

does to look after a herd of sheep.  And so you've seen

a great decrease recently in the herds of sheep out

here, and the size of herds of the sheep and goats,

brought on primarily by that.  And then also, just

recently, very recently, they lost their government

subsidy or incentive on wool and mohair.  That was that

the government subsidized wool at a certain price.  And

that certainly meant a lot of differential to the

Indian that sold their wool for 32� and if the

incentive was at 65�, they got the difference between

65� and 32� from the government.  And so that made it

very economically feasible, or much more feasible to

raise sheep for that purpose.  And that subsidy now is

gone, and consequently it's hard, economically, to keep

a herd going with the price of hay today, that they

have to supplement their feed on the Reservation; and a

lack of really, basically, herders, it's hard to really

have a herd.  So your numbers of sheep and goats have

radically or drastically decreased over the last few

years, and have been decreasing for some period of

time, with the cattle increasing a little bit, but

really even down, too.  Your people are turning from

that kind of economy, and livestock-oriented

background, more to a job and training and that type of

background.  It's interesting.

   

   Cole:  Take 1965, 1966.  Describe for us the role of

the trader at Shiprock Trading Company with the wool

and mohair--maybe the wool season, how that all came

about, how much you'd buy and sell.

   

   Foutz:  I think this was one of the great

responsibilities, if you will, of the trader, or

anybody doing business.  If you're going to be a

successful business person out here, you need to render

a service to the people that you're trying to do

business with.  And I think that service to them is to

find a market or to be a competitive market in handling

what they need to market--in this case that we're

talking about, wool and mohair.  In the early days, we

pretty well used to buy wool and mohair here at the

store and market it through two or three people that

would traditionally market Reservation wool and mohair.

Now, I define Reservation wool and mohair, because

there is a differential because most of your mohair in

the United States is sheared twice a year.  Mohair,

goat wool, on the Reservation is sheared once a year.

And as we were speaking earlier, the only other place

that I know of in the world today that is another

market where they shear their goats once a year is in

Africa.  And so we have long mohair here, and so when

long mohair is needed, this is a market they've gotta

come to find it.  And [Navajo] wool is different than

the rest of the wool in that there's greater dust out

here in the way of wind blowing and dust storms in the

spring.  And so if we have a lot of dust, before we

shear, that wool picks up a lot of that dust, and

retains a lot of it, to where there's greater shrinkage

on this wool than the average pasture sheep.  And your

markets know that.  So they're unique markets, and

they're uniquely a little different than anywhere else

in the United States.  And over the years, your people

who have bought this know this, and build that into the

price they pay for the wool, which is a little less

because it shrinks more.

   Interesting too, there are some--what would I say?--

over the years that I've dealt here on the Reservation,

there's been some interesting things that you learn

young, and that's there is accepted gamesmanship that

goes on in the buying and selling of some of the things

out here.  And I call it gamesmanship, because I feel

that's what it is.  In the way of buying livestock, you

would find that a lot of times you'd never buy

livestock until late in the afternoon, on most days.

We'd see very little livestock come into the store for

sale till about three o'clock in the afternoon.  I

think a lot of time the livestock, specifically the

lambs, were left off of water for some period of time,

and then they were put on water, or even induced for

thirst by using a little salt, to where just before

they'd come in to bring 'em to market, they would put

'em on water.  And of course a young lamb can hold from

six to eight pounds of water a lot of times.  Well,

you've got to understand and know that if you're buying

a lot of lambs, or you've got a lot of extra water that

you've bought, and when you go to market it, that you

don't have that water there to market, and you've lost

a lot of weight.

   With the wool, of course the Indian people were good

about--what would I say?--adding some weight to wool in

ways.  But it was gamesmanship.  That was just kind of

an accepted thing, but you had to kind of understand

and realize it went on, or things could really be

difficult when you went to sell it, because you'd take

a great loss on it.  And you learned these things in

dealing year after year with them, and it was an

interesting thing to me.  I got bested many times in

learning the business of dealing with livestock here on

the Reservation.  And then there are other times when I

guess I won, I don't know.  But it's been an

interesting challenge here.

   When I first worked at this store with Russell, we

would buy about probably 123 or 120 bags of wool, and

probably, oh, 12 to 13 bags of mohair.  We have

recently taken that up to sometimes we bought better

than probably 1,500 to 2,000 bags of wool, and up to as

high as probably 800 or 900 bags of mohair.

   

   Cole:  When was that?

   

   Foutz:  That was probably back, oh, I'd say back…

Boy, time gets away from you!  Probably back about ten,

twelve years ago.  And so that would be in the mid-

eighties, the late eighties.  We were buying

substantial quantities of wool and mohair.  And I think

we did this more than anything else instead of relying

on the people that had traditionally bought the wool

here that were working for a wool warehouse, to where

you had two or three middle people.  We got enough size

and enough volume going through here that we went right

to the wool warehouses themselves.  We were selling

wool and mohair directly to England, mohair to

Johannesburg and to Texas on the wool market, and

consequently we were able to pay more to the people and

keep it more competitive and yet move the merchandise,

the mohair and wool.

   

   Cole:  Were you buying that wool and mohair strictly

from Navajos, or also from other traders?

   

   Foutz:  The wool that I spoke of there we bought

primarily from the Indian people themselves.  It was

interesting, one year the Navajo learned fast that if

they bought a large wool bag from the trader, they had

to spend $2-$3 for that wool bag.  So they would bring

gunny sacks of wool in that we had to consequently put

in the big bags and pack.  And after one of our wool

seasons, we counted over 10,000 gunny sacks we got out

there that we'd emptied, to show you the volume that

you do in it.  We had 10,000 gunny sacks back there.

And this was--we drove this to where a lot of the wool

and mohair was coming in from this whole region.

They'd come, because I feel like we were competitive,

and then a lot of the other traders had quit buying

wool and mohair.  And some of the other trading posts

had actually started to be just a convenience store, or

had transformed into a convenience store with Thriftway

taking them over.

   

   Cole: Were you still seeing a lot of lambs during

that period?

   

   Foutz:  We were buying larger quantities of lambs.

We'd taken the lamb buying here from probably, I would

say roughly we used to buy 500-600.  The largest year

we ever had was we bought just under 8,000 head of

lambs here, and that's a lot of lambs.  And we used to

buy that on a very small scale.  A lot of those lambs

were bought one by one in a big bucket on a single

scale on their back, you'd place each one in it.  But

the Indian people would feel more comfortable in

weighing like that, because they felt like in a big

scale that you could change the weight and they

wouldn't know it.  So they understood the small scale

much better.  And so we tried to keep it that way.  And

while it was a lot of work, it helped us, I think, buy

more livestock.

   

   Cole:  Is the livestock business--the wool, mohair,

and lamb business--still that big now?

   

   Foutz:  No, it is not.  I think we've talked about

the decreasing herds, and this showed up in lambs and

mohair, and especially this has accelerated the last

ten years, that the numbers are substantially down

clear across the Reservation.  The Navajo Tribe runs a

wool program, and buys wool and mohair there.  We

always found that was good competition, but we always

could usually match or beat their price.

   

   Cole:  Do you remember when that tribal wool program

came into being?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, I do not.  It's been probably viable or

going for the last twenty years.  It's been a program,

and interesting to me, it's been probably one of the

longer programs that the tribe has had going for it,

where they've bought things from the Indian people and

then have found a market for it.  Most of the things

they'd start up would slowly over a short period of

time be unsuccessful to a degree, or it wouldn't work

out, or the service wasn't needed anymore to where they

discontinued it.  With the mohair-wool program, they've

kept it up for some period of time, and it's been a

good program for 'em.

   

   Cole:  We were earlier talking about the whole

transition to the cash economy.  What effect have you

seen, say, from the mid-sixties on, with the federal

programs that have come about, and things like that?

How has that affected the buying and selling and maybe

even the Navajo people themselves, in your perspective?

   

   Foutz:  Well, I think first of all in that ______,

talking about the sixties--of course in the fifties and

the sixties we had a few payrolls, but still the

biggest payrolls at most stores--and they were very

substantial, and probably one of the busiest times of

the whole month--would be your welfare, which would be

the first of the month; and then your Social Security

payday, which would be the third of the month.  And

those were the two very substantial paydays, aside from

Navajo Tribal paydays and your Bureau of Indian

Affairs.  But they weren't as substantial as that.

Now, your payrolls are more substantial by far.

There's by far more cash flow than there used to be.

For a fact, now we cash substantial amounts of checks.

I think there have been weekends where we'll cash

$50,000-$70,000 worth of checks in a single day, and

have to run back to the bank to replenish for Saturday.

But totally changed because of your payroll, and the

size of checks.  Your welfare and your Social Security

checks themselves have certainly, over the last fifteen

years, because of the increase in them, keeping up with

the standard of living, have gone up substantially in

size.

   

   Cole:  How big did the store here get in terms of

how many employees did you have?

   

   Foutz:  We got as high as probably, oh, I'd say

close to twenty-five to thirty

   employees, at one time.  And probably of the twenty-

five to thirty, I'd say four would be Anglo, with the

rest being Navajo.  There were some very, very--what

would I say?--highly qualified Indian people that

worked here, that could handle anywhere.  I had two or

three girls that actually could manage the store.  They

didn't know they could.  I don't think they knew they

could, but they really could have�.

   

   Cole:  Did you and Russell ever bring in any kind of

like fringe benefits, profit-sharing plans, or anything

like that?

   

   Foutz:  I did, yes.  It was interesting, back in the

1980's, we disbursed out of a profit-sharing plan here,

and there were some very substantial checks paid here--

most of it to the Indian people.  I think there was a

little better than maybe $200,000-$300,000 disbursed to

'em in a profit-sharing plan that we disbanded.  It was

totally funded, and we decided there wasn't a need for

it anymore, so we funded out of it.

   

   Cole:  It sounds like even in the sixties and

seventies you still had quite a bit of credit business.

How would it work when--sort of take us through when

somebody would get their Social Security check or

whatever--how much would be put on the account, and how

that would all operate.

   

   Foutz:  Okay.  I think if you're gonna run credit

and be effective at it, you've gotta have really a good

credit manager.  And I think that's where I trained two

or three of our Indian people to be excellent at that,

because you've got to kind of watch.  And when I say

"watch," you've gotta keep very good track of credit.

But let's just take a Social Security check.  Let's say

the individual received $400-$450 in Social Security.

We'd sit down with that individual when they'd open an

account with us, and ask them how much they'd like

their account to run.  And we'd maybe come to terms at

$200 or $250 they'd like their account to be.

Invariably, over a period of time, a lengthy time, they

would always end up trying to go higher than that,

because they would always find that they had charged

$250 and they wanted more before the check came, and so

they'd be in trying to ask you, and so eventually you'd

let 'em go up higher.  But let's just say the bill

would be around $300, the check would come in, or not

come in, or they'd get the check, they'd bring it in,

pay their account, and the difference between what they

owed and what they got they would take in cash.

Sometimes that check would come here to the store.  We

didn't have a post office here, but it would come to

our post office box.  Other times the recipient

received it themselves, would bring it in.  I think

it's like credit you run anywhere else, you would have

some people that would pay their bill every single

time, others would pay it most of the time and come in

and let you know why they hadn't.  Others would not

ever pay their bill, and you were continually trying to

collect the bills from them.  And I guess over the

years, that is one reason you've had to--and that

really became a dilemma in the trading post, or in this

type of business--is how to mark up your groceries, or

figure your margins on the product you sold if you were

gonna sell some for cash, and be competitive; and

others for charge, where some people weren't gonna pay

their business, and you carried it for a month and had

to pay for that extra cost in the money you had tied

up.  Plus, there were a substantial number that didn't

ever pay their bill, and so you had to take that write-

off.  And so a lot of the posts would lengthen their

margin to cover this extra expense.  And it was tough.

Some traders, I think tried a double pricing--one for

cash and one for credit.  And I don't know many stores

[where] that ever worked out successfully, because

people were unhappy about charging and not paying the

same price as somebody with cash.  That's hard to keep

straight, and I understand that, because I'd be upset,

too, if I'd traded at a place for five years and paid

my bill most of the time, and yet I was getting charged

a higher price.  At the same time, I think anybody

that's been in business knows that they have to charge

a little more if they're gonna charge and cover those

kind of expenses.  And so that really posed a problem

as the greater cash came into being here.  And now,

really, at a store like Shiprock Trading here, where

there is enough payrolls around and that, I don't think

you'd really have to do any [credit] business if you

were competitive, and I think you'd probably be more

competitive if you didn't charge at all.  I think there

are a lot of the old timers that are so used to

charging, they would like to, but I don't think a

person would need to [extend credit] to be in business

here.

   

   Cole:  We haven't touched upon the pawn system, but

did you have a pawn system at Shiprock?

   

   Foutz:  We had pawn at Shiprock, we did.  And we had

a very large pawn safe.  Yes, we did a lot of pawn

business here, we did.  And that was back, and it was a

very intricate part of the trading business at that

time.  This is interesting.  Of course, as you know,

the one thing that brought the end to the pawn business

on the Reservation was the Federal Trade Commission

when they came out and did their studies on the

Reservation.  At that time I was, I think, a [member

of] the board of directors of the [United] Indian

Traders Association, and we, as an association, tried

to give the Federal Trade Commission as much

cooperation in the way of feeding our input, as we

possibly could, to them.  I don't really think that

they were open in receiving that as much.  I think that

they wanted to hear a pretty--what would I say?--narrow

feedback on what they got about what was going on on

the Reservation.  I think personally that the need for

some changes were definitely needed.  There's no doubt

about that, there was room for changes in the way that

pawn was taken, and maybe the rates of interest that

were being charged.  Most traders, I think at the time

they came out here, charged, I believe, 10 percent on

pawn.  And we all held it for a year.  And that was

probably 10 percent a month.  Boy, I'm trying to go

back, I think that was 10 percent a month that was

charged at that time.

   When the Federal Trade Commission came out, they

held their hearings, and because of those hearings--I

think they had pretty well prepared, it was like here

in Shiprock.  I think when you do business over a

period of a year, with, let's say, 5,000-6,000 people,

you're gonna have ten, maybe, for some reason or

another, are not satisfied, and maybe justifiably so--

you've made a mistake or something's happened like

their piece was lost or something like this.  Even

though you've replaced it, they end up being unhappy.

And I think those are the majority of people that were

heard at these hearings.  I don't think, honestly, it

was a representation of the general or the large market

that was dealing in the pawn business at that time.  I

think rates were maybe excessively high, but I think

the thing that happened--and I remember the hearings in

Window Rock--as I visited with the group of people that

were heading up the hearings for the Federal Trade

Commission, and Peterson Zah, I believe, was working

for the DNA [Din�be�iin� N�hiilna� Bee Agha�diit�aah�]

at that time, or the legal end, as a lawyer for DNA--

that when they said that they were trying to get the

rates established at 24 percent a year or 2 percent a

month, they felt like that anybody on the Reservation

would pawn at 24 percent a year, when the banks were at

that time charging to borrow, I believe it was around 8-

10 percent.  They said, "Well, it's double that."

Well, what they didn't take into account is that those

banks get a substantial interest or closing charge and

handling charge up front.  If you lend on pawn a

bracelet at 24 percent a [year], that's 2 percent a

month.  Or let's say on a $50 bracelet, if you were to

pawn it for $50, that means at 2 percent for the first

month, you'd get $1.  That would not cover your initial

costs in pawning.  And consequently, because of the

hearings, and because of the law that was passed

because of it, the traders were allowed to pawn on the

Reservation at 24 percent a year, or 2 percent a month.

Well, it became totally unprofitable, or unfeasible to

pawn to that particular rate, and consequently, that

brought the demise or the end of pawn on the Navajo

Reservation.  I feel bad about that for the people in

many ways, because I think first and foremost it hurt

the people pawning in that they now have to travel.

They didn't quit pawning jewelry--pawn just moved off

the Reservation to the surrounding communities.

They're now the people, or the people that we were

servicing on the Reservation, in their little, in,

let's say, their home when they lived at Shiprock--now

they have to travel to Farmington.  That's just an

added expense to them, to handle their pawn, the Navajo

Tribe, and consequently that hurt the people

themselves.  Secondly, the Navajo Tribe lost control

over the pawn, on the length of time it [could be]

held, and they could have really dictated the laws by

which we pawned on the Reservation, and oversaw that.

Secondly, they lost the income to off the Reservation.

So I think in several ways possibly it was too severe

in that it went too far.  I think it would have been

better for the people and the tribe if they would have

allowed pawning on the Reservation [in] some way, under

a controlled thing, with different controlled interest

rates.  I think they'd have answered the needs of the

people to a higher degree.  But as it is now, there's

no pawn on the Reservation.

   

   Cole:  Were you allowed to charge interest, or did

you charge interest on your charge accounts?

   

   Foutz:  Yes, I think some people charged interest on

their charge accounts.  This is one thing we never did.

I think there were some trading posts that did--or

that's my understanding.

   

   Cole:  But that did not fall under the [FTC

regulations]?

   

   Foutz:  That did not fall--to my recollection, that

did not fall under that.  They addressed, really, the

credit system.  And you might say the trading business

up to that time did live--it had grown up and it

continued, and you might say to a degree it was

saturated credit.  I believe that, and so I think it

helped us kind of wean off that a little bit, which I

think was a betterment--for the businessman as well as

the person dealing with the stores.  I think it was

time, and so I think this brought about some changes

that were good, very definitely, because of the credit

an the saturation of it, possibly, on the Reservation.

I think that just happened because the people

themselves were used to it, the Indian people, and

didn't feel like they could get along without it.  And

the trader had always been used to it, so it was

something that I think just grew up, and it was a

habit, so to speak.  I don't think it was meant to

really--what would I say?--catch or keep the customers.

I think it was just something that had been there in

place, and both parties had been used to, and it was

retained longer than it possibly should have been.

   

   Cole:  Other than the travel, is there a big

difference between how the pawn operation works on the

Reservation versus now where it's off the Reservation?

   

   Foutz:  Well, it's governed by state laws off the

Reservation.  And when I say that, the laws in Arizona

would be different than in New Mexico.  We have a pawn

place in Farmington, New Mexico at this time.  We are

regulated by the State of New Mexico.  At this

particular time, we can charge 54 percent a year.  We

are asked to hold by the State for six months--we hold

for a year.  We get 10 percent for the first month, and

4 percent thereafter.  The 10 percent up front gives

you enough return to cover your costs and your initial

expenses to where you'll do it.  Then after that, it

could be 4 percent or 2 percent, it doesn't really

matter, because it returns enough that the person will

pawn.

   

   Cole:  Would you say most of the pawn you take in

now is reclaimed or not?

   

   Foutz:  We lose about 2 percent a year, which is

very, very low.  We hold for a year, and we deal with

mainly Indian people that we've dealt with over a

period of time.  I think that that will change a little

bit as the great and heirloom pieces of jewelry are

lost.  The people are pawning new pieces, pieces that

they have just made and can't sell somewhere, so

they'll take it in to pawn it somewhere.  They've

initially sold it to the place where they pawn it to

when they initially pawn it.  So that turns.  So I

think that slowly our percentage of turn will become

greater--just by the people that we're pawning with and

the type of things that we're pawning.  And that's why

I'm saying the great old jewelry that we used to see on

the Reservation is slowly just disappearing, and it's

going.

   

   Cole:  In your years in the trading post business,

were you ever involved with Navajo ceremonies?

   

   Foutz:  Involved?  This is a place the trader was

asked--in the early days, a trader became almost a

partner with that, depending on the size of it.  I can

remember a big yei�ii bichai or a fairly large sing

going on at Teec Nos Pos, Russell would be asked to

give substantial things, like a beef, some sheep, and

quite a bit of flour to feed the people that came to

that sing.  He may participate with the family in the

way of donating a basket or two and buckskin.  So there

was a participation that was a service rendered, but

yet the trader had a tremendous influx of business

because of the people that would come there, because

they were very isolated.

   Later on, as a store here that I worked at so much,

where it wasn't--well, I'd say we still became very

involved with it.  We were asked to contribute and to

help with it.  The Navajo people are great ones to

reach out and ask family and friends to participate and

help, are given the chance to have them participate and

help at the time of a sing and a special need.  The

trader was no exception.  And we, all the time, if the

customer was a regular customer of ours, we'd always

participate and give to it, depending on what was

needed at that particular time.

   We were always invited out.  I've been invited out

to many as a participant, as a friend, or just somebody

who'd been personally invited out.  And that was always

what I would consider an honor.  I always looked on it

as such, and always tried to do that.  I think it was

part of being in the community, and sharing.  I don't

know, I think it's like belonging to a service unit

when you're in a town or something.  I think it's part

of being in the community and that.  You bet.

   Cole:  Did you ever have any dealings with…  You

mentioned earlier on about working with some Navajo on

funerals or things like that.  How did that come about?

because it seems like there are some taboos and stuff

with the Navajo, dealing with death.

   

   Foutz:  I think in the early days, and predominantly

you go back at the time of my father, I think those

taboos were very, very strong, perhaps--or stronger

than they were.  Slowly, as I come along, the Christian

church had made great inroads--be it the Catholic or

Mormon or Baptist or whatever, they're all out here--

had made enough inroads that a lot of the people had

slowly started to accept burying.  And of course just

being environmentally--you couldn't very well bury

people all over the Reservation. [Or] if you didn't

bury 'em, leave--because in the early days, they would

just move out of a hogan that somebody had passed away

in.  As time kind of progressed, and then the people

kind of accepted the burial and the cemetery and this

kind of concept--and of course your Public Health

Service certainly encouraged this, just to control

infectious diseases and things like that, it becomes a

necessity.  And consequently, the people back that.

And yes, when we were asked--I don't think that the

people back in the time that I first got down here

saved a lot of money, and they didn't save for crisis,

if we want to call [it] this, or a major something that

was unexpected.  They weren't users of insurance like

we are, or been taught to be.  And they weren't great

ones to say, but they believe in, we would say, passing

the hat, or letting friends and that contribute.  And

so they would pass the hat and have friends and family

contribute both financially to cover the expenses, and

then to help with food or anything else that would need

be needed at that time as the family came together.

There have been times that I've been asked to speak at

several [funerals].  In my own church--I am a Mormon,

or a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day

Saints--I've been asked to speak at Catholic funerals

or Baptist, or several others, just as a friend, or as

an associate.  I've always tried to do so.

   

   Cole:  Did you ever have any direct dealings or

needs to use a Navajo medicine man?

   

   Foutz:  Myself?

   

   Cole:  Uh-huh.

   

   Foutz:  Hm, I have not.  I have been in many sings.

I think through a person's faith in something or

somebody, that they can receive and be healed and many

great things.  But I've had many friends that certainly

were involved.  I had a doctor that was a great friend

of mine, Bob--Robert--Pudge [phonetic spelling].  He

was up here, and he was in specialized medicine and

ethnic medicine now, and teaches it at the University

of Washington, and also a university in New York.  He

teaches both.  It's interesting.  No, I have never

myself [used a medicine man].

   We've done another thing always in our stores.

Russell taught me this, and we've always just tried to

do it, and that's we've always carried items that they

need at the time of a sing:  specifically from us would

be medicine baskets or wedding baskets and buckskins

that have been hand-tanned, that have the ears and the

tail completely, that could be used in a sing.  And

we've really tried to keep these things priced

extremely low.  And until recently, we've been able to

do that, but the price of baskets has just escalated

because they've become such a marketable thing that

it's driven the price up.  But for years and years and

years a wedding basket would cost from $25-$45, while

other baskets have just soared.  But we tried to keep

them very low because of that, because the people at

the time of a sing really needed something--and a lot

of times couldn't afford a lot, but they had to have a

sing.

   

   Cole:  How would the community in your experiences

in the forties, and then again in the sixties, deal

with medical emergencies?  Was there access to doctors

and hospitals?

   

   Foutz:  There was always the Bureau of Indian

Affairs.  Here at Shiprock we've been lucky, we've

always had a fairly substantial hospital here.  And so

the people have always had access to that, free.  As

wards of the government, by treaty, they have always

been given--we had said that we would take care of

their health.  And we've always furnished those needs.

I found a lot of the people, I think because of the

length of time they had to wait to be seen up here, or

by a Bureau of Indian Affairs doctor, or through maybe

some of the ways the doctor had handled them, lost

faith in the doctors up here.  And a lot of 'em would

come in and pawn or want to borrow money because they

wanted to go to town to a doctor up there they had to

pay money to.  And they were willing to do that, but

they felt like maybe sometimes the service was a little

better up there, or more personalized, I don't know.

But I know that quite a bit of this went on.  And yet,

I think it was well staffed up here, the doctors were.

They had a surgery unit up here, and for a long time

Dr. McKenzie was one of the first Navajo doctors,

surgeons, that I know of, and he was very, very well

thought of, and he performed surgery up here, as well

as in Gallup a lot.  And he was from a family, this Ed

McKenzie, that used to deal with us forever here at the

store.  It's interesting, here you have a great

surgeon, and yet his parents could hardly speak

English--not that it mattered any--but in one

generation, that's what had happened, which is really

remarkable, which I think is wonderful.

   

   Cole:  What about veterinary care?

   

   Foutz:  Veterinary care, we carried some vet

supplies here as we got a little more sophisticated and

got refrigeration.  Before that time, the people just

used what I would call basic substantial, you know,

natural understanding of the elements around.  They

have natural things that they always used to put on--

salves and ointments they used to put on animals, that

they would make from vegetation and plants.  Before

that time, as we got other things, and they had access

to a veterinarian and penicillin and sulfide drugs that

would cause some infections to go away--the people were

very stock-oriented people.  And they learned fast, and

then so we carried veterinary supplies and syringes

here for that purpose, you bet--and encouraged it.  And

I think the Bureau of Indian Affairs, through their

programs, certainly educated the people in the use of

things with the livestock there.  But these people

teach themselves.  They are great livestock people and

want to take good care of their things--plus, they have

a great basic understanding of it, they've always

handled livestock.  Like you and I would panic maybe at

some little thing--some of those animals get sick--they

have an understanding to know what it is, and they

don't panic and they don't spend a lot of money, but

they get it taken care of.

   

   Cole:  Maybe switch gears here a little bit.  You

were saying that Shiprock Trading Company buys and

sells a vast amount of rugs, especially Navajo rugs.

   

   Foutz:  Yes.

   

   Cole:  How do you buy rugs?  How do you tell what's

a good rug?  Maybe you could tell us a little bit about

that.

   

   Foutz: Arts and crafts rugs…  Well, okay, you

know, you back up and Shiprock here regionally was

always known for the Shiprock yei'iis, and Mr. Evans

that owned this trading post at one time, was really

attributed to starting the yei'ii rug.  He worked with

some of the weavers here in this town that were doing

figure rugs, or what we'd call a sand painting rug, and

he went to 'em and he said, "I feel like if you'll take

three or four of these figures and put 'em on a rug

that somebody can hang on a wall, that we'd have a very

marketable piece that would market well in the market

today."  And some of the weavers went and started

weaving these yei'ii rugs, or similar rugs to a yei'ii,

and they found it very marketable.  And so over a

period of time, this became the center of yei'ii rugs,

and it's where it originated, and were attributed to,

and especially with white backgrounds.  As Russell came

along and started �em using commercial yarn with the

yei'ii rug, they became greater, much higher quality

rugs.  They were finer, more elaborate in design, and

just beautiful, with different color backgrounds--grey,

beiges, dark grey--and just became a very, very viable

thing.  You can see stacked in this room, that stack of

yei'iis over there.  There's two stacks of yei'iis

right there in the corner.

   But then as Russell took the store over, we worked

on it, with the wools that we carried for weaving.  And

over the years Russell built up outlets for rugs to

where we could buy the rugs.  If you buy rugs and can't

sell 'em, you can't buy a lot of rugs.  And

consequently, we built up markets and worked hard at

servicing those markets like Fred Harvey.  We helped

educate them, and helped find the things that they

could market in different markets.  As the economy went

up for red rugs, we tried to supply red rugs for 'em.

And we kind of tried to answer the needs of both

markets, and we tried to be in between those markets,

telling the weavers what was needed, or letting them

know what was marketable, and then taking that to a

market to where we could move it and come back and buy

more of that product.  Consequently, we took this store

up, and yes, we would average, I would say, between 150

to 250 rugs a month that we'd buy here at this store.

And that was a lot of rugs back in those days, and this

has been fairly consistent for all the time that I've

been around the store.  We have kind of deviated from

there.  Russell would buy rugs from other traders, as

over time I have done the same thing.  We'd go out and

buy from traders if we had a particular need.  But as

weaving used to be a regional thing, we used to buy

yei'iis here, and then slowly, because Two Grey Hills

only was a short distance away, we were starting to buy

some Greys.  As people became more mobile, they would

bring Greys in here, and then Teec Nos Pos from Teec

Nos Pos, to where slowly we would buy several different

types of rugs right here at Shiprock, that people would

travel twenty, thirty miles to come to us, because of

the price we could pay, because we had a market for 'em

consistently.  And we worked, again, very hard at doing

that.  Then slowly, as the rugs got better and the

prices higher, we started advertising at greater

distances.  And now weavers will travel from all over

the Reservation to come up in this part of the country

to sell a rug--not just because of Shiprock Trading

Company, but because up in this area there are five or

six extremely strong buyers.  And if we can't buy the

rug, somebody else will--or usually can--to where they

can market their rug up here.  And over the years we

have really built a reputation for carrying extremely

good Navajo rugs, and yet quality rugs.  We've become

known for it.  I'd say the Foutz family has become

known for that, and we've worked extremely hard at

Shiprock to really perfecting that, to where we really

carry a lot of quality rugs, [and a lot of quality

rugs] go through here.

   Not just being that, but the thing you really have

to kind of, I guess, work on the other end, is letting

the weavers know that you're consistently here to buy

top rugs.  They don't want to travel, let's say, eighty

miles to get over here to sell a top rug, and find that

you're not buying, or you haven't got the money to buy,

or you've got too many rugs already and you can't buy.

But we've always tried to establish a market and be

here open to buy, to when that weaver gets here, she

knows she can market the rug.  And generally speaking,

it's been our kind of--what would I say?--if a great

rug walks in this store, we try to buy it.  You don't

see very many leave the store without getting bought.

And I guess a lot of times that means that we just pay

the price she asks.  But I've always been a believer

that quality sells, and consequently, we've always

reached for that.

   

   Steiger:  How do you know a great rug?

   

   Foutz:  How do I know a great rug?  Gosh, I'd just

take a look at the weaver, and if she was a great lady,

I'd say it was a great rug.  (chuckles)  No, I'm just

kidding about that.  Great rug.  This is always

interesting, and we were talking about this before.  I

think so many times, to me, the people, when they come

in here--but I am the same way when I go into a market

I don't know a lot about, we're out of our comfort

zone, but we try to make--and I think especially buying

a Navajo rug--too hard.  So many times I will be

showing somebody some rugs, and let's say there's

several couples there, and somebody will say, "Well,

how do you tell a good rug?"  And I'll say, "Just a

minute, and I'll show you."  And I'll keep throwing the

rugs, and then I'll reach over and throw just what I

would call an extremely good rug.  And usually

speaking, the women, and even some of the men in the

audience there, or in the group, will go, "Oh!"  And

I'll say, "That's how you tell a good rug," because as

they have looked at it, the beauty of that piece just

comes out, and it brings that response or reaction that

we do when we see a piece that's just "Wow!"  It's a

beautiful piece.  Well, that means that the pattern,

the coloring, the size, and everything in that rug has

come together to make an attractive rug to the point

that it's a marketable or sellable piece.  And that

means I can pay more, because the account that we'll

sell it to will pay more, because they recognize that

as just a good rug.  Now, the weave goes in there, too,

consistently, but with most rugs, the weave isn't that

important, as long as it's consistently good, and for

the price rug it is, it's tight.  But buying a good

rug, it's that.

   And it's always wonderful when a weaver will bring

in a rug, and a weaver maybe that you don't know so

well, when she walks in, most of these weavers take

great pride in the things that they have done.  And

they'll, a lot of times, dampen it and iron it, prior

to bringing it in.  Then they will roll it, and let's

say if it's a substantially-sized thing, they'll roll

it in a bed sheet.  So when they come in, you don't see

the rug, but it's rolled up, and so as you come into a

room like this, and unroll the rug, and you're seeing a

gorgeous piece, your heart just absolutely jumps, and

you are delighted to have that weaver bring it in.

   It's interesting to me, in trading or buying from

somebody on this type of thing, so many times the buyer

will try to get an upper edge by kind of pointing out

maybe a little flaw or a defect in the piece.  Well,

I've always felt like that weaver on a big piece has

lived with that piece for six to nine months and she

knows every flaw in it, so I don't really need to point

it out to her--that's kind of negative.  And if I had

spent nine months making something, I really try not to

make it a negative experience for her or for me, but a

positive one.  And we'll work on the beauty of the rug,

even to build it up.  I think some people think it's

gonna cost 'em more if they say something good about

the rug.  I don't know, I think if I had made a rug and

spent six to nine months on it and somebody praised it,

I'd just feel kinda good about it.  And I have always

felt like people like to come back and deal with people

that are positive instead of negative, and so we've

tried to build that atmosphere in the store, and have

it a positive experience for the people that come in,

and kind of build 'em up.  They know a flaw, and maybe

as you look at a rug and it's a little crooked, you can

maybe just kinda of fold it out and kind of take note

of it softly.  But you oughtn't to do it and say,

"Wow."  Some traders will say, "Wow, that's really

crooked, I can't pay you much for the rug."  Well,

that's ouch.  If I'd have spent nine months on that, I

don't know but that would have been received too well.

   But we were lucky, we've built the business, we know

the rugs, and I have just felt like myself as--I mean,

it�s kind of filled my life, in that I just received so

much, really from the people.  The people are ones to

give.  They are great people and I think just down to

earth, and I have just come to enjoy my life amongst

them.  But the rugs are just a special thing, because

each one is so uniquely different.  You never know

what's gonna come out.  Like I say, when that comes out

of that sheet, you never know what to expect, whether

it's gonna be a small saddle blanket, or a beautiful

piece, and so it's just always kind of like opening a

box of Cracker Jack--you can always get a surprise.

Now, if you know the weaver, well, then you pretty well

know what to expect.  But this has been always just an

extension of something that you've done that I've

loved, but it has even added to it, because I really

truly love seeing the rugs, from working around here.

   

   Steiger:  I've got one more question, and then I'll

shut up.  You mentioned when we met how fun it was,

because you dealt with such a variety of people.  Did

you actually have a day when you were out there buying

sheep, and then you come in and you're dealing with

Rockefeller or something like that?

   

   Foutz:  Okay.  That was just a "for instance."  But

yeah, let's back up.  You know, out at a post like

this--and that's why I called Shiprock so fun, because

of the arts and crafts, and because of the livestock we

continually built up.  We had a reputation--and so you

would be out buying livestock, you'd be out buying some

hay, you'd be out in the front, handling, let's say, a

charge account or two, and then you'd always have kind

of the unique person walk in--let's say Rockefeller.

Will Rockefeller donated a mill down here, and so he

got coming in.  And he'd heard of us, and so yes, he

showed up at the counter.  But the nice thing is, then,

is you meet people like that.  Or let's say Robert

Redford was in maybe a year later, and he comes in

continually.  But you meet people like that, but the

unique thing is, is you don't just meet 'em, but you

meet 'em in an element that's so uniquely different,

and they enjoy it to the degree that you do, to where

let's say you go back into their country, like I had

the opportunity to visit Mr. Rockefeller in his office.

   I was embarrassed the day that I went in, in

announcing to the secretary who I was, she took the

message into somewhere, and it wasn't maybe two minutes

later that the door come bursting open, and

Mr. Rockefeller came flying out, and he says, "My gad,

what are you doing back in this country?!  You're

supposed to be back on the Reservation."  And I looked

over, and there were about four people waiting to see

him.  Well, he ushered me back in his office, and he

would have taken the rest of the afternoon with me, and

to me it was a little embarrassing.

   But yet, it gave me the opportunity to meet some

people on a level that [I'd] never have met them

otherwise.  And not just a Rockefeller--that's just a

"for instance," and of course we all rise to names.

But a lot of other people that you've met at such a

level, that open doors, and you've made associations

with, that you wouldn't trade for anything, that it

just gives you a neat--what would I say?--position,

because it was so unique.  You don't go many places

today, and if you were to say "Indian trader"…  Or I

don't even know if that fits.  You could say, "I'm a

businessman on the Navajo Reservation."  I guess you

could introduce yourself as many things.  But it would

be so uniquely different that it sometimes raises

eyebrows or opens doors or gets you kicked out, one or

the other, I don't know.  (chuckles)  But it is, and

the variety here was just that, and I think this was

what was so fun.

   And I worked at Teec Nos Pos, and I worked at a

couple of other stores.  When I was much younger, I was

working for Russell here, and that was when I was

probably seventeen, close to eighteen years old.  My

cousin, R.B. Foutz, that now owns Newcomb and Toadlena

Trading Posts, was working here, and both of us were

kind of getting restless to do something on our own.

Well, at that time, Russell bought Tocito Trading Post

from Mr. McGee, and gave R.B. and I, if we would stay

with him, each a quarter of it.  And so at that time we

would be trucking livestock out to Tocito, we'd come in

here, and I can remember a night or two that R.B. and I

would work all day at this store, truck merchandise out

to Tocito, livestock back in that night, getting back

in here about 10:30, 12:00.  We'd just take a blanket

off the blankets that were for sale, roll up in it, and

sleep on the counter somewhere, and be here for work

the next morning as we'd open the store at about 7:30.

But this is when you're young, energetic, and all full

of that old vigor that gets in us.  So that is an era.

But we actually go back to that time, yeah.

   Working.  We were talking about working at other

stores.  I don't think there's another store that I

worked at that I loved with the way that I liked this,

and it was strictly because of the mix.  You were not

just doing that, but you were buying, let's say, mutton

by the truckload.  And when I say "mutton," that

doesn't mean much to you, but these people are very

fussy on the mutton that they eat.  And as we

progressed along, and we were not buying the mutton

from them in quantities enough to sell back as meat, we

had to go out to the market.  So we would go out and

buy a truckload of mutton, and that would be 300 head.

But then we'd have to grind it and feed it so it was

just perfect for the way the market wanted it here.

Well, now, that sounds strange to you, but that's what

brought people maybe ninety miles on a Saturday to buy

mutton here.  Now, the average store would probably cut

up, let's say, five to fifteen mutton on a weekend.  We

were going through ninety mutton, just on Saturdays.

And we drove it that way, of just servicing the people,

and having that mutton fed, and a cover of fat on there

just thin enough the way they like it, because they are

fussy--again, I've told you--with meat.  But they would

come ninety miles to the store just to get fresh

mutton, and we were known for it.  And on weekends we'd

run specials, and because of those specials, we really

brought people a long way.

   But the variety of the challenges that we were able

to do, and the promotions we were able to do:  we'd run

rug contests a lot of times here.  It was a lot of fun

to do.  We'd give away good jewelry, or Pendleton

shawls, and cash sometimes.  And the weavers got a

really--you know, this was back when contests weren't

that popular.  They hadn't happened out here.  And it

really made a difference.  And then I think as we

stimulated these outlets for top rugs, we were able to

come back and work with weavers to where the quality of

rugs substantially went up, but we were able to pay the

weaver for that quality.  (vacuum sweeper noise begins)

In the time that I was here, I would take the same

weaver and quadruple and sometimes ten times the money

that she was able to get.  And this is one thing that I

know Charles Herring, when he was alive--I was talking

to him not so long ago, and he said, "Ed, if there's

one thing I can remember about you at Shiprock, is that

you were able to take that business and see that the

weavers got a lot more money for their product over the

years that you were there."  And I think perhaps we

did.  We sold so many that we were such a sizeable

market, that…  (vacuum sweeper noise grows louder;

an aside about stopping tape; tape is stopped and

restarted)

   That really isn't my heart you were hearing, or the

pacemaker--it's my stomach!  (laughter)

   But the same with the arts and crafts as you see

around here, we were the first, that I know of, that

really went into the framing of sand paintings.  And

then as we went into the framing, we really started to

experiment around, and we went into the chrome and

glass, the brass and glass, for New York markets.  We

went into the pine frames, and then slowly we went into

the matting of it.  And now the matting has almost

become an art of itself, as the young people like Bill

Foutz and some of the others have got into it in

cutting mats.  It's almost become a work of art itself.

So we've got to take…  But the thing that I've

really always tried to do is never grow tired, or just

get in a rut doing the same thing.  It's always been

stimulating to me that you take a weaver making a Storm

pattern, or a Two Grey Hill, and she'd got to such a

level--let's say it was a tapestry weaver--to where she

was getting $5,000 a rug.  Well, encouraging her to do

maybe a black background, keeping the same quality, it

was so uniquely different, that you could take that

weaver and you could actually add another $2,000 to

her, if she didn't do black all the time, but did it

once in a while.  And it was fun to do, but we did some

of this.  And it was just moving--and the same with the

sand paintings.  As your competition caught up with

you, it was always fun to try to move on to the next

level.  And a lot of times we missed, but a lot of

times we had fun hitting, too, and it was stimulating.

   

   [END SIDE 2, BEGIN SIDE 3]

   Cole:  This is Brad Cole from Northern Arizona

University.  This is March 9, 1998.  We're here at the

Shiprock Trading Company with Ed Foutz.

   

   Foutz:  Still!

   

   Cole:  Still.  And Lew Steiger is still running the

camera.  This is Tape [Side] #3 of seven or eight to

go, I think!

   

   Foutz:  We're goin' for the record?  (laughter)

Okay.  We were speaking about the rug market and rug

marketabilities.  You know, as you think about the

progression of rugs, you think about the sand

paintings, or the sand painting rugs that we carry.

And behind you is a stack of sand painting rugs.  But a

tremendous market for those, the authentic market.  But

it's frustrating, because these weavers will weave, and

you'll get the price going up as the economy in the

United States goes up.  I didn't realize until the

shortage of gas that came along in, what, the 1980's?

(Cole:  Right.) When all of a sudden we didn't have

enough gas and we didn't know if we were going to be

traveling all summer, and so the market kind of dried

up, because Fred Harvey and places like that did not

know how many customers would find themselves to them,

not being able to travel, and so they were not buying

very many rugs.  And consequently, we were nervous

about the rug outlet.  But it turned out well, but we

did find out one thing:  That the rugs are so tied to

the economy, and sometimes when the economy is really

good, the rugs have gone up and escalated in price.

Then all of a sudden when we've gone through a

tremendous downswing in our economy and the market has

gone to pieces, we find the Navajo rug market's got to

do the same thing, and adjust.  And to come back and

help the weaver understand, when she was getting $4,000

a rug, that the market will not absorb that price

today, is not an easy thing to do and help her

understand the complications of it.  And yet we've

tried to educate them to this.  A lot of times they

know, but it's hard to come down from $4,000 to $3,000

when you'll be getting somewhat the same rug.  But this

has to happen sometimes.

   We worked on a very interesting project with Ruth

Tiller and Roseann Lee who are sisters to Sam Tiller,

that I've talked to you about, from Two Grey Hills.

They wanted to start, and I one day, Rose was coming in

here with these very small tapestries.  And the

tapestry was selling from $2,000 to $3,000 for this

size of rug.  And it was counting close to 100-110 weft

to an inch.  And Rose was frustrated because I had

three of her rugs that I hadn't been able to sell, and

she came in with a fourth, and I said, "Rose, I can't

give you a lot of money for it, because I've already

got three, and I can't sell 'em at the price I've been

selling."  So I just told her what I could pay for it,

and I said, "Rose, try somewhere else.  If you can sell

it for more, fine."  And she came back in late in the

afternoon and sold me the rug and had come down about

$1,500 in price.  I think we probably gave her around

$2,000.  I'd been paying her $3,500 to $4,000 for that

rug.  She said, "What can I do?"  I said, "Well, Rose,

no one's done a great big tapestry or a large tapestry.

Why don't you do a large tapestry?"  And she said,

"Well, what do you mean 'large'?"  And I said, "Four by

six or four by seven."  And so she said, "I'll think

about it."  Well, she came in a little while later and

she was laughing and happy--and this was about two

weeks later.  She said, "I've talked to my sister, and

we're gonna start a large tapestry."  Well, this went

on, and she came in about a month later, and she said,

"Now, Ed, this rug's gonna be on the loom for some

time.  You're gonna have to lend me money kind of as we

go along, because this is gonna take quite a while."

And at that time I didn't realize how long it was going

to take.

   So when the rug was somewhat along, I guess it had

been on the [loom] about nine months, Bill Bob and his

wife came over from Cristof's, the store in Santa Fe,

and they had heard about the rug and wanted to do some

picture-taking of it, so I took Bill Bob, and we went

out to Roseann Lee's mother's place where the rug was

on the loom.  And I have never seen anything like it in

my life, in that it was about seven foot wide.  And

that means the loom was wider than that, and it was on

substantial metal pipes about this big around, the

bottom and the top of it, and they had about twelve big

tie-downs, chain tie-downs, pulling that pipe down to

where that warp was so tight it was more like a harp--

you could almost play it, but it was so fine.  Well,

the girls would sit side-by-side weaving on that rug.

And so you could not see if they had somewhat an

inconsistency that their sister didn't have, about

every hour they'd change seats, so they would weave on

both sides, so there would be no disparity or no

difference.  Along in that rug, Roseann Lee found that

they had made a mistake, and she backed up about three

months' work, undoing, unraveling, getting down to that

mistake to take it out.  The mistake was so small--and

I am fussy--but I said, "Roseann, it's not worth taking

out."  It wasn't that big a thing, I couldn't hardly

detect it, but it bothered her, and so she took it out.

   The girls worked on that fairly steadily--and this

was a Two Grey Hill tapestry that counted over a

hundred weft to the inch, and they worked, I don't

know, for about a year-and-a-half on that.  They had

what I would call a family disagreement, and the two

sisters weren't getting along at all, and so they did

not weave on that rug for about four or five months.

One day their mother came into the store and I said,

"Ruth, I'm worried about that rug.  It's pulled so

tight, that when you release those tie-downs, is it

going to just accordion and come together like an

accordion?"  And she got that twinkle in her eye, and

her eyebrow went up and she says, "Ed, you know me

well.  Anything I had anything to do with is not going

to be anywhere [near] that.  You don't have to worry

about that rug, it's going to be perfect."

   Now, I forgot to tell you why I was worrying about

that rug.  Up to that time, they had been getting money

from me on it, and I said it had been about a year-and-

a-half.  Well, as I checked one day on what they'd

picked up so far, they'd picked up about $4,000-$5,000

in cash on that rug.  Well, that was a lot of money for

me on any rug.  I just wasn't used to something this

large, this length of time.  That rug took them four

years to complete.  Now, they didn't weave totally all

the time on that, but I remember finally, as we got a

call, I got a call and I was in Phoenix at our home,

and Roseann Lee--and I could hear the excitement in her

voice--said, "We've completed the rug."  And I said,

"Well, fine, I'll be down here.  Why don't you bring it

down?"

   Well, her and her sister, Barbara Ornelas [phonetic

spelling], came down with the rug to Phoenix.  Well,

they were just ecstatic.  They were bubbly and bouncing

and they were so excited about the rug.  And we rolled

the rug out in my room, and I don't know that I've ever

had quite anything like that take me, in that it was

absolutely perfect, and yet it was almost six by nine--

perfect Two Grey Hills.  The pattern was so intricate

and busy, because she lays her pattern out on graph

paper.  And so it's not just a rug, it is the most

intricate thing you've ever seen.  Here was this

gorgeous masterpiece, and she rolled it out, and she

said, "What do you think?"  And I really couldn't…

I just sat and I just absolutely looked at the rug and

took it in for some time, because I really couldn't

answer for a while.  And finally I said, "Rose, I have

never seen anything like it."  And she said, "What do

you think we can sell it for?"  I said, "I don't know.

Rose, I think probably $20,000-$28,000, something up in

there, is wholesale on that, or we can sell it for.

But before I tell you that, I need to get a reading

from somebody that might know.  I'll go up to Dan

Garland and take it to a couple of places and kind of

get feedback on what they feel like they could sell it

retail for."  Roseann said, "That's great."

   And then she looked at me and she basically said an

interesting thing that I so understood.  She said, "Ed,

you're family, you're like my brother.  Do you know, I

don't want something to happen.  If you buy that rug

from me, and you pay me $30,000 or whatever you pay me,

and I hear afterward that you've got a lot more money

out of it, I don't know that I would ever be able to

forgive you or feel the same about you."  Well, I

thought for a minute, and I totally understood that.  I

said, "Rose, I understand that.  I totally do.  Maybe

we just better work out something that's a little

unique or different on this rug."  So we decided to

partnership the rug.  Her and her sister would [each]

own a third; I, because of the money and it was up to

$15,000, $16,000 by that time that I had in it, would

own a third of it; and we'd partnership it with her and

her sister being able to overrule me on anything they

wanted to, because they had two-thirds of the rug.

That fit okay with them, and so that's what we decided

to do.

   I took it out to Dan Garland and let him take a look

at it.  He had never seen anything like it, and we

decided maybe the rug would be worth around $30,000-

$38,000.  Well, Rose came back and I told her that, and

at that time it was in August, and she said, "How about

letting me take the rug to the Santa Fe Market and see

what we can do with it?"  So her and Barbara Ornelas

took a booth over at the Santa Fe Market and took it

over there to the show.  It's a judged show, and it's a

big show.  Well, the next day she called and she was

laughing and she said, "Turn on your TV tonight, we're

gonna be on TV."  And I said, "What do you mean you're

gonna be on TV?!"  She said, "We won the Best of Class,

which is the best rug over here.  Then they put all the

best of the classes together and we took the Best of

Show."  That was really an accomplishment for a Navajo

rug to beat out the pottery and the jewelry and

everything else, and they were gonna be on TV.  And

they were in the headlines of the paper and everything

else.

   Well, the next day, they'd picked up the rug from

the judging where it's on show that night, and the next

morning they get to pick 'em up and then they go back

to their booth to sell things.  Well, they picked up

the rug the next morning about six o'clock, they walked

back to their booth, and at seven o'clock this couple

came by and asked a couple of questions.  And then

Mr. Marcus from Neiman-Marcus came by and he and his

family furnished the money for the ribbons, and they

usually end up buying the best of class over there,

because they furnish the ribbon and they also buy it.

And he came by and looked at the rug, and he said,

"Well, I'll be by later in the afternoon and make you

an offer."

   Well, this couple came by and wanted to know

something about the rug a short time later, asked a few

questions about it, and asked Rose what she was asking

for it.  Rose, not knowing quite what to say, said

$60,000.  They took a look at each other and kind of

said, "What do you think?" and they said, "Okay, we'll

take it."  So they went ahead and bought the rug at

$60,000.  I guess Mr. Marcus came by some time later,

about two hours later, to see if he could buy the rug,

and Roseann Lee was elated when she could say, "Well,

I'm sorry, but it's already sold."

   The gentleman that bought the rug invited Rose and

Barbara to come to Texas, to bring the rug down, and to

see where it was going to be in their home, and to pick

up their money, and to just spend a couple of days with

them.  Well, Rose called me up and of course she was

ecstatic.  And she said, "How do I take the money?"  I

said, "Well, usually Rose, when you're dealing with

somebody at that level, it's fine to take a personal

check.  But if you're nervous about that, ask for a

cashier's check or a money order or something similar

to that--it's fine."  So I didn't hear anything more

from her.

   They went to Texas, and about, oh, I'd say four days

later, her and Barbara Ornelas show up at this counter

out here, and they were again bubbly and dancing and

laughing.  They said, "We've gotta tell you about it,

but we've gotta do it in the back."  So I brought 'em

back into this room and I said, "Well?!  What

happened?"  I can remember Roseann Lee took her purse

and dumped it up like this, and $60,000 in 100-dollar

bills come spilling out, right down here, all over the

floor.  And I said, "Rose!  Sixty thousand dollars in

cash?!"  And she said, "Ed, when he asked me how I

wanted the money, I forgot what you told me, and the

only thing I could think about was cash.  He kinda got

a funny look on his face, but he said, 'Well, fine,

give me a little time.  This afternoon I guess I can

have your cash for you.'"  So I guess he'd had to go to

his bank (laughs) and withdraw $60,000 in 100-dollar

bills, but here it was, and they spilled it out here.

   But probably one of the funnest things I've been

involved with, because they were just so special, and

it was such a special thing for them and their whole

family to work with, and Rose, I guess that was maybe

five or six years, and she was killed in a car wreck--

Roseann Lee was killed in a car wreck with one of her

grandsons not long ago on [Highway] 66.  Barbara

Ornelas still is very close to the Heard Museum.  I

think her husband's a pharmacist in Tucson.  And she

has sold several tapestries since then, but never quite

that rug, which was to me one of the most perfect rugs

I've ever seen woven.

   But the story that kind of surrounds that is unique

and fun, and just one of those special things that you

get involved with, where it turns out to be such a nice

thing for everybody involved, which it was.  I would

partnership with anybody like that--not because we made

any money--it wasn't.  I kinda came out and got my

money back out of it, the girls were very, very happy.

I think Rose ended up getting a double-wide trailer out

at Newcomb on that one.

   Amen, that's the end of that!

   

   Cole:  Do you have other affiliations with weavers,

long-term, short-term?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, do I!  I mean, how much time have you

got?  (chuckles)  I mean by that there have been some

great weavers.  I guess the things that notably come to

my mind would be the series of Two Grey Hill tapestry

weavers that I've had just really a close association

with, and bought most of their product.  Rose Mike,

Toadlena; Julia Jumbo, her daughter Serina Jumbo; Daisy

Ute was from there--just all great weavers.

   I remember years and years and years ago, Rose

brought a little tapestry in this size, wanted $250 for

it.  I wanted to give her $200 for it.  She finally

went out of the store with $250 for it.  And it was

laying on the floor in the safe in there where we buy

so many of the rugs when this big account from Cortez

comes in, Don Watson, that was very, very famous.  He

had probably the finest rug outlet.  This was back in

the forties and fifties and sixties.  And he'd come in,

he looked at it, and he goes all over the Reservation

buying top rugs.  And he came by and he recognized the

weaver, and he said, "How much for that little Rose

Mike on the floor?"  And I said, "I just bought it."

He said, "How much do you want for it?"  I said, "Two

hundred eighty dollars."  He said, "It's too much."  I

said, "Boy, I've got to have that out of it."  He

didn't say any more, but went in and went through all

of our stacks and folded 'em back very nicely and

picked out a little stack of rugs about this high, and

on top of it was Rose Mike's rug.  And he went ahead

and took it.

   The next day I got a call from Cortez, and he says,

"You know, that little Rose Mike rug that you sold me

is probably the finest rug I've ever bought in my

life."  And he told me he would mark an inch off and

mark it with a string, and on that tag he'd put the

number.  And he'd counted about four different places,

and he was known for that, and he'd done that on Rose's

and it counted 137 weft to the inch.  Well, some years

later he had leukemia and knew he was not long for this

world, and called me and said, "Ed, I want you to come

up and have lunch with me.  I've got something for

you."  So he had this little Rose Mike rug that he'd

had put away.  He says, "I want to get it back to you."

Now, it cost me $2,800, ten times (chuckles) what he'd

paid for it.  But even there, in that market at that

particular time, it was a very, very good buy.  But

I've still got that rug today.  Now, that's just one,

Rose Mike.

   Oh, the weavers, you could go on and on.  You've got

your sand painting weavers, you've got Mrs. King Tut,

or Desbah Evans, or you've got Anna Tanner as a sand

painting weaver.  You've got Margaret John as a Two

Grey [Hills] weaver.  But you could go on and on and

on.  And the thing I [riven 'em?] and I thrill at their

rugs, but I enjoy our relationships even more, because

they've gone on over such a long period of time.  With

Rose Mike, I've been buying her rugs for twenty years.

And to see her progress from where she was, and I was

paying $280 for a rug like this, to where I was paying

$5,000 or $6,000 for that same size--that was fun to

see her be able to get that kind of difference.

   And that's what I was talking about earlier when I

said I was able to increase the prices the weavers got

and build their names, for some reason, I think in such

a way that a lot of other people weren't able to,

because we were out in the market to such a great

degree.  Then I'd come back and I would let them know

on their next rug that I could pay 'em more, and we'd

up the ante.  And it was just fun to do, and fun to see

the differential.  To stop and think, but that's just a

case, $280 in probably fifteen to eighteen years up to

$5,000 or $6,000, the same size rug.  That's wonderful.

But her reputation and her weaving--she really did it,

I was just able to find a market for them.

   

   Cole:  What's the state of Navajo weaving now?  Are

there new weavers coming in that are good?

   

   Foutz:  There are new weavers coming along.  And it

goes up and down.  Right now, in the market we've got

economy-wise today, there are more weavers and more

weavings coming off than the market will absorb right

now.  I hope the economy changes.  We're just coming

off of a bad summer where things didn't move like they

were supposed to, but everybody was the same way.  The

Grand Canyon, for the second time, decreased in the

percentage of people there.  And we're just seeing kind

of a reversal that we've seen.  Foreign money won't buy

as much when they get here, so they buy a ticket and

lodging and they can't buy a rug to take home.  We'll

see where it goes from here.  There are some real

pressures on rug weaving.  I think the weavers are

there for some time, however I think it is dying off,

but not as fast as we thought it would do, because

these young weavers are coming along, and the real good

weavers can make substantial money doing it--$4,000 to

$8,000.  Well, to stay home and do something and still

come up with that kind of money, even in today's

market, that's pretty decent.

   You've got a whole segment of other weavers coming

along that express themselves artistically, like we

were talking about, that are weaving so contemporary

rugs, they're totally different, a mixture of three or

four different patterns in one rug.  And we maybe could

show you some of that.

   I think there's definitely a market for 'em, but the

thing that the rug weaving is facing is we are so

international in our markets today, that the world can

make so much product that while they're not Navajo

rugs, they are somewhat like 'em in pattern and things,

that they're gonna have great challenges in the market

today.  And it's a whole different pace of market than

I'm used to, and I hope my son and those young ones

that are in it can kind of come up with the answers.

But we always have, and I feel like they can, and I

think there'll continue to be a market.  And I think

that the weavers will have to sometimes adjust their

thinking and adjust down their price somewhat from what

they're used to getting, because the economy will

change.  And be patient, because the market will maybe

go back up.  But yes, weaving is a viable, wonderful, I

think, craft.  It's uniquely Navajo, and there are just

some great, great young weavers coming along.

   We were talking about the marketability of a rug.

And sometimes the weavers have a hard time

understanding how they can sell a rug to me here at the

store here in Shiprock and they can see it, let's say,

at an outlet in Phoenix at a substantially different

level.  And to maybe just help 'em with that, let's

kind of back up and let's take a yei'ii that comes in

here at Shiprock and I buy it from the weaver at $100.

I try to mark that up, let's say, 20 to 33-1/3 percent

markup.  Twenty-five percent will cover your expenses.

If you travel on the road today selling, 20 percent may

sound like quite a bit, but it really isn't, because

your expenses are so high today, that that'll just

kinda break you out, if you can work closer, because

you're carrying a lot of credit and that.  But let's

just say we mark it up $130 wholesale.  And I take it

to one of my accounts, and I sell it to 'em for $130,

they mark it, it's traditional in the Indian rug

business, or the Indian arts and crafts business, to

[use] what they call a "keystone markup," and they

double it.  So that means $130 at wholesale goes to

$260.  Now, that, to a weaver, sounds radically unfair.

But that person maybe won't sell that rug, they'll

maybe have to mark it down, they'll maybe have to have

it in stock for nine months before they sell it.

Because they mark it $260 doesn't mean they're gonna

get $260.  They hope to, and some rugs they do get that

for.  I think you've been in business, and Brad, you

understand that.  But others have to mark down, they've

got tremendous overhead to pay, and so what sounds

[like a] pretty drastic markup, it is really not that

much.  That's the same markup we pay for all of our

clothing like this, and the things that we have on that

we've marked down ____ anything else that goes on, or

we're maybe in a phase.  But I hope that helps some of

the weavers and some of the people understand the

marking that has to go up and achieve in this country.

And imports have to do the same thing from other

countries, too.  It's just part of the marketing in

this country.  Now, if they can go and retail it every

time, then probably they'll make a lot different

margin.  But that's gonna take time, traveling, and

they've got other expenses in that.  So while

__________ say, well, we got a little more going to

Phoenix, if they don't enjoy the trip and they just

went down, they're maybe…  You know what I mean?

It's not that profitable for 'em.  Does that answer?

   

   Cole:  Yeah, I think so.  I want to maybe switch

gears a little bit here again and ask about the United

Indian Traders Association.

   

   Foutz:  All right!

   

   Cole:  I know that you're a member of that.  How

long have you been a member?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, it goes back to, I would guess 19…

I've been associated, because the store's always been a

member, and as soon as I bought-into here, I was a

member.  So I would say around the 1965, 1966, 1967, in

that era right there.  Since then I've been a member.

   

   Cole:  Why did you join, or why was your store a

member?

   

   Foutz:  Of course I was connected with Russell

Foutz, and Russell Foutz has always been a tremendous

supporter of the United Indian Traders Association.

And when I say consistent, and a good supporter of it,

I don't know that there was ever a year that he wasn't

a member.  He was just an ongoing member.  Some members

would join, and for some reason, let's say

economically, or the need wasn't there for the

Association for them, there wasn't a purpose they

needed the Association for, they would drop out for

several years, and then they would join again and be a

viable member.

   Russell was just consistent, as the Babbitt family

was.  Each one of their stores, as I can remember--and

there were other members, too, as you've looked back on

the membership that have belonged for ten, fifteen

years.  But there were some that would join and not

join and be inconsistent.  You'd see others that were

just absolutely ongoing members--Russell being one of

them, and he taught me that.  And then I enjoyed the

Association.  I enjoyed the socializing, I enjoyed the

members, I learned from 'em.  It was just something

that I really received quite a bit from, I think.

   

   Cole:  What do you remember as being some of the big

issues that occurred during your affiliation with the

Indian Traders Association?

   

   Foutz:  How to control your competition.  I'm just

kidding!  Probably two or three things.  I guess the

predominant need that we used the Association for was

anything legally where we needed to band together for,

and it usually turned into be a legal thing--where

single members did not have the financial means or the

political clout to achieve anything.  As an

association, when you go to somebody and say we were

forty or fifty or sixty members of a group-- and that

was predominantly the majority of the group out there--

that carried quite a political clout and movement with

people, or with things, or with other associations.

And secondly, with the funds that we had available, we

could hire legal people at such a level, and over a

length of time to where we could achieve some things

when we had to handle something legally.

   And I guess [one] of the standout cases [is] the

Warren case.  That was before my time, but that was

where they took the Warren Commission--and I think

Russell will touch more on that--but where we basically

took it clear to the Supreme Court and the Indian

Traders Association did that, to establish that they

could not tax on the Navajo Reservation.  They couldn't

declare sales tax, federally.  They were trying to.

And that case was a standout.

   I think another case--and you've got 'em down there--

are…  Oh, boy, most of those, the Federal Trade

Commission was something that we banded together and

the need was great for it.  The time that Arizona was

trying to tax on the Navajo Reservation was a time.

Russell, I'm sure, will tell the story when they had an

assessor from, I think Holbrook, call him and tell him

if they didn't receive their property tax, they were

gonna close him down.  And Russell said, "Well, if you

think you can, come on out."  And lo and behold, the

assessor was at his doorstep the next day, wanting to

close him down.  Russell said, "Hey, hold on for a

minute."  He went and called Mr. Jonas who was the head

of the Regional Bureau of Indian Affairs, and Mr. Jonas

said, "Put the assessor on."  And he said, "I don't

know what jurisdiction you think you have out there,

but if you don't back down, we'll have the Navajo

Police and the Bureau of Indian Affairs legal people at

the edge of the Reservation to pick you up when you

come off."  So the gentleman left the store and went

back home and never said anything again, and the

Association kind of backed up on that.

   Boy, aside from that, I think the Association was a

great time to come together in the early days, as we'd

come together on these semi-annual meetings, they were

a great time of socializing.  And in doing so, we were

like the Navajo people, we were spread out nomadic, and

we didn't have a lot of interplay with people out of

your immediate region.  And so you got new ideas on

livestock, you got new ideas on what some people were

doing on a lot of things--on areas of credit or

anything else.  It was a time to interchange some

ideas.  It was a time to go over things.  And boy, it

was just a nice time to get together with young couples

and socialize, so I think it filled that need, which

wasn't radical.

   And then I think it was just beneficial to have a

group there with the means--and I think it kept us from

having some times that we had to use legal people, in

having an association, there were other groups that

didn't want to take us on, because they knew that we

had the ability to do it.

   Politically, there's some other things.  I think

that Shiprock Trading had a case before New Mexico

pending, which was very interesting.  They charged us

property tax on a trader down here.  I went up to Bud

Tansey's [phonetic spelling] office.  They handled that

case for me.  It was a State thing, we went before the

State Court, and we got a call from the assessor up

here asking us to withdraw.  We wouldn't withdraw it,

but we didn't push it any further.  He says if we

pushed that case and won it, that this county would

lose all the taxes they're getting from the Utah Mine

and the processing plant out here, and they'd just

rather we didn't do it.  We bowed to that, and ever

since then we've paid our taxes under protest here--

[and will until such time as] that case will be taken

and won.  But the Association did that somewhat.  It's

a case we could win if we pushed it, but we're not

gonna push it right now. For the other cases that might

be legal, probably I'm missing a bunch of 'em, but

those are the big ones I can remember.

   

   Cole:  How were the bigger trading companies

perceived, like Babbitts et cetera?, in the

Association.

   

   Foutz:  Hm.  Okay, I'm gonna have to just say how I

perceived 'em.  My first association, or my most

memorable association through the Association with the

Babbitt group--and they are from the other side, so we

really didn't have a lot to do with them, other than

through the Association--was Mr. Bilby.  Mr. Bilby was

a son-in-law to the Babbitts and a very impressive man.

He was probably in his late forties, early fifties when

I first met him.  He was president of the Association.

He sat on the board of APS and I think Arizona Land and

just several things, and was a lawyer, and very

articulate.  I was very impressed.

   And then how did I surmise Babbitt as a group?  Very

well run.  They were very impressive.  One thing that

really impressed me is the Babbitt group stayed

together as a group, and they had their own wholesale,

and they worked that volume to their advantage.  Our

family, the Foutz family, was always--what would I

say?--splintered to the point of we were just different

families, and we never did come together as a group,

other than Progressive Merc, to where we took advantage

of, let's say, the twenty stores that we had out there,

in our buying or volume capacity.  So I thought

Babbitts were very wise there, they diversified.  I was

very impressed with the whole Babbitt organization.

   I knew the individuals.  The Powell family ran two

or three of their trading posts.  I was always

impressed with the quality of people that they hired.

I always felt like that they had the Indian people, or

their customers, at heart.  They weren't out there

[just] to make money, but they were out there to

service the people.  I liked their attitude toward

business on the Reservation.  Really.  I thought most

of their stores that I went into were always quality

places.  They changed with the times, they moved

forward as the need moved forward.  They came from the

bull pen to the self-service.  Their places were always

kept up well, I think they were clean, and you couldn't

say that about a lot of trading posts you walked into.

   I remember walking into an old trading post one day,

and I looked around, I thought, "Gee, this is what an

old-time trading post would look like, or should look

like," and I was just impressed.  I remember getting

back in the car with my wife, and she was just

appalled.  She said, "Did you see the dust on all those

[cults?]?," and all this stuff.  And it was.  They were

hanging from the rafters like you would in the old days

and things.  But her reaction was totally different

than mine.  Mine was full of nostalgia and things like

this, and hers was, "Boy!" you know.  And some trading

posts weren't kept up.

   But the Babbitts--I don't know that they really took

advantage because of their size.  I think that they

serviced the people better because of that, and I think

that's a real asset.

   

   Cole:  Did the Association ever act as brokers for

members?  Did they find markets or anything like that?

   

   Foutz:  I think they did in the early days.  And

there were times with the sheep and the wool and

mohair, that they tried to, in my era.  When I say "my

era," when I was with Russell and that.  But I think

most of the traders were so competitive, that they had

a hard time selling to one place.  Russell bought from

other stores, wool and mohair.  I think one of you

asked that question, and I never addressed that.  Later

on, as I had Shiprock Trading Company on my own and

bought Russell out, I would buy from other places, wool

and mohair--some of the places that didn't have good

outlets--to where I could cover their price, and they

were out of my region where the people didn't feel like

it was competitive.  I think the traders close around,

like Jay and Loyd, would be a little nervous selling to

me, in that they felt like we were competitive enough

that I'd have a hands up in knowing the amount of wool

they bought and the price.  I can understand that, and

I never really tried to be too aggressive there.

   Russell, when he was here, would buy from other

traders--both rugs and wool and mohair, because I think

we established stronger outlets, and consequently I

went way beyond that on mine.  And it helped--by

putting the volume together, we got a better price.

   

   Cole:  How much of the membership was Navajo

Reservation traders versus off the Reservation, or

Apache, Zuni?

   

   Foutz:  When I first came into it, there was quite a

segment, there was two or three members that were down

on the White Mountain Apache Reservation.  There were

several members like the Pendleton Mills and

Mr. Brachman and Holbrook that sold Pendletons.  And a

group of arts and crafts people--not a big group.  And

then there were some retail outlets that wanted to be

able to hang the United Indian Traders Association

[logo in their shops], that were authentic people in

the Indian business.  When I say "authentic," [I mean]

that carried authentic handmade things all the time.

Like Mr. Holbrook's in Denver, he was always a member.

I think that when I came along in the 1960's, I would

say 80 percent, if not even higher, closer maybe to

90 percent, were [Navajo] Reservation Indian traders.

And predominantly the problems that we confronted and

faced were almost all Reservation-oriented, somewhat.

   

   Cole:  I know the organization was established

mainly to make sure that arts and crafts items were

authentic.  It seems like that still was a problem in

the sixties with a lot of the (Foutz:  It was!) shops

that came along the Interstate.

   

   Foutz:  Oh, absolutely!

   

   Cole:  Did the Association continue to deal with

that issue?

   

   Foutz:  I believe at one time there were some

letters written from our legal office to some of the

outlets that we specifically knew that were using the

word "Indian handmade" a little loosely.  And we tried

to, what I would call "rattle the chain," in a way of

warning.  I don't think that we ever took anything

legally, or anything went too far, but there was quite

a bit of talk in directors' meetings.  Nothing kind of

came from that, no, that I know of.  I think that some

State laws, we supported some State laws that were

written for that.  And I think maybe one of the laws we

supported a little financially, in the funding of it,

in New Mexico, that made it illegal to sell anything

under a false name.  And it should be.  I think any of

us that buy something that was misrepresented to us, we

all have a sour feel in our mouth afterward.  And it

hurts the market.  I think if we're sold something

that's Indian made, but the Indian was maybe living in

Mexico, and we were sold that as that, then that's a

different thing.  We bought that knowingly, and I think

that's the thing.  But I think to be fooled, I don't

think we really appreciate that, I think that hurts

everybody.  But there are those that will always try to

do that as the market gets so good.  And I think that's

one advantage the tribes have.  I think there's a real

need for that, and I wish the Tribe itself would become

a little more involved, maybe out in the political

market, helping to write laws that would protect the

Indian arts and crafts a little more than it has in the

past.

   

   Cole:  Did the Traders Association have any

involvement with the Navajo-Hopi relocation issues that

you recall?

   

   Foutz:  Relocation, as to…

   

   Cole:  As to the partitioned lands.

   

   Foutz:  Boy, that was far enough that you need to

talk to traders down there.  (aside to store help)  On

the relocation, that was a whole different place, and

the Indian Traders Association did not, to my

knowledge--but somebody like Elijah Blair at Dinnebito,

and people that you've spoken to that have been very

active in the Association know more than I would.  I

don't think the Association as an association became

involved with that.  That was pretty well a land

dispute between two tribes.  There wasn't a lot we

could do there.

   

   Cole:  How long, how many different times, have you

been president of the organization?

   

   Foutz:  I've been president once.  I've been vice-

president two or three times.  I've been on the board

for a long time.  As the need for the Association

really disappeared, we did not meet as regularly, and

then we actually did not meet for several years,

because of no need.  And that was probably some of my

fault.  It was poor leadership in a way.  I think we

should have probably had an annual meeting, at least,

which we did not do.  Our legal counsel at that time

kind of grew apart from us, and did not really

stimulate that getting together.  I had moved to

Phoenix, and the whole, I'd say, period, was

nonproductive, but there was just no need for the

Association that there used to be, of getting together

and talking about things.  As the traders slowly were

sold off, there just weren't that many in the trading

business.  And now as the makeup of the directors--like

Lavoy McGee and several of  'em are not in the trading

business anymore at all.  They have been, but they're

not actively in it [now].  I'd almost fit into that

scenario in that I've got an arts and crafts place and

a pawn place in Farmington, and my family's connected

with it, but of course I've sold this to my son.  And

that happens to be the fifth generation in our family.

I'll just mention that, because that might be of merit,

historically--somebody might be interested in that.

   

   Cole:  Did the Association ever have any involvement

with Navajo politics?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, I think so.  I don't think you can be in

relationship out here and be effective without doing

some lobbying, if you will.  We didn't do a lot of it,

but we did some lobbying.  In politics we never backed

a particular person, one over another.  I think that

was a very individual thing.  And really, the makeup of

the Indian traders themselves, they're very--what would

I say?--most of 'em are loners, they do better on their

own and their own thinking, and they weren't great ones

to come together and say, "This is how something should

happen."  I don't think we ever really influenced

elections or anything like that, but I think we

politicked for some things that we wanted, like we

wanted less bureaucracy in leasing, and streamline the

leasing apparatus to where it wouldn't take so long to

get through a lease--anything that would do that.

We've certainly been actively involved in Window Rock.

We've had our legal counsel there a couple of times on

different things.

   

   Cole:  Let's switch gears here again a little bit.

What separates a good trader from a bad trader?

   

   Foutz:  And you want my advice on that one?  Ah, a

good trader.  I think it comes down to one thing.  I

think the basic ingredient is if you love or if you

recognize the people you're dealing with.  What would I

say?  If you respect the people that you're dealing

with, I think especially out here, that is really a

prerequisite if you're gonna be a good trader.  You've

gotta recognize them.  I think that you've got to

recognize and render service, and fulfill that service

in a way that's beneficial for those people that you

deal with--not just for yourself.  I think if you're

going to do that, you're going to be in business for

the long term out here.  And I think if you're not,

that your time and your days are counted out here.

Competition alone will weed you out.  But I think that

if you can be fair…

   I think the one thing that you've got to be [is]

profitable.  You can't be a viable business and not

make money.  You've got to be making money so you'll

still be in business tomorrow.  I think some people

actually look on profit as a dirty word.  That is not.

Your successful businesses today make some money.  And

if they didn't, they wouldn't be here, and they

couldn't service you.  But I think a fair profit…  I

think the big thing is, you've gotta be there to

service the people.  And if there's a service needed,

you find out what it is, and you service it, and you do

it in a fair way, in a competitive way, and then I

think it can be a good relationship.  And I think by

fulfilling that need, you'll be ongoing.  And I think

that a person, if he's willing to adjust and move, I

think there's still great opportunities out here on the

Reservation for a person.  I don't think the end is

here.  I think that you've gotta be flexible, you've

gotta be changeable, and you've gotta change with the

times and see new avenues and new ways you can service

the people that are out here, 'cause they have needs.

And I don't know that you'd call us Indian traders

anymore.  (laughter)  I think you'd be businessmen out

on the Navajo Reservation, probably.  But I think

there's great opportunities out here--I really do.

   

   Cole:  What do you think you've learned from the

Navajo?

   

   Foutz:  Hm.  (pause)  I think I've learned an

appreciation for people that are different than I am,

that think differently and are different in a lot of

ways.  And I think that it's made my life a lot easier

in seeing their struggles at a level that they are, and

yet [to] overcome and be as happy and as content and as

fulfilled as they are--that certainly I can do the same

in my life.  They've taught me patience, they've taught

me better understanding, to be more content with what

you have, to share.  They're great sharers.  They're

great family people.  And when you're a friend, you're

a friend.  There's a respect there, and exchange, and

words don't have to be said.  It's just there and you

know it, they know it.  I've loved and enjoyed that.  I

think that I've received more than I've given.  I think

they're that kind of people.  I've loved being out

here.  I wouldn't trade that for hardly anything in my

life, I don't think.  I mean by that, they're a great

people, and they've got so much to give.  And yet so

many people say they're very quiet and stoic.  I think

they're like anybody, if you don't slow down and reach

out, you'll never have that opportunity to learn and

tend to get from them.

   But I think it's like anything, if you come out with

the idea of serving, and not just taking, that you're

open to receive.  That may sound strange, but it's

true.  I think those that have come out just to make a

living, they've done that maybe.  And I don't think

they've ever kind of gone deeper and really enjoyed the

people.  When I say "enjoyed the people," [I mean]

really got to know the people.  The people just have so

much [to give?].  You know, everything that we have in

the world isn't that important, really.  And sometimes

they've got so much to teach.  I've seen older couples

come in here to Shiprock and move into one of these

homes that are furnished here with all the conveniences

we have of running water and all the conveniences--

kitchens and everything else--and they move back out to

the interior of the Reservation where they've got a one-

room hogan, and they cook over a [fire] and carry their

water, but they're happier.

   You know, sometimes we need to slow down, and they

teach me that all the time--that we run by the clock.

I love the saying--Eugene Joe one day came in to me,

and I was running around the store frantically, and he

said, "Hey," he tugged my sleeve and he said, "don't

run with the clock, walk with the sun."  That is kind

of a Navajo-ism or an Indian-ism, you might say, but

it's true.  We are so geared and so fast, and as we get

in this world today with all the conveniences we have,

the Internet and everything else, the pace gets

greater.  We fill our lives full, but when it's all

through, is that important?  Do we learn from it?  I

think we learn more from people than we do from things.

They've taught me that.

   

   Cole:  What do you think they've learned from you?

   

   Foutz:  Wow.  (pause)  Huh, I don't know that I'd be

a good one to answer that.  I don't know that I could.

You know, I really don't.  I don't know, you'd have to

ask one of them.  (pause)  I'd like 'em to learn a lot,

but I don't know that that is really true.  I think

I've been a good employer, I know that, 'cause I've

worked at that one really hard.  I don't know, I really

don't.  I think there you'd have to do a self-analysis,

and I think how we view ourselves is so distorted

sometimes, I really would be almost fearful of puttin'

that one down.  I just hope that my enjoyment for them

shows itself to where they know that.  And I've felt

like maybe that was…

   You know, some people say, "Well, you could never do

business out here without speaking Navajo."  I've said

that really isn't true.  If you--we talked about being

a positive reaction--if you will just accept and love

them as a person, they feel and sense that.  And I

think if any of us go into a place and we feel that

we're accepted or feel good, you'll want to return if

you possibly can and do business there, instead of

somewhere else.  And I think that we've worked hard

about that relationship here.  And I don't know, some

of the relationships, I feel like genuinely I've got

some great friends out there.  And I hope they would

feel the same way.  And I think that goes two ways a

lot of times--you have to give and get.  And I hope

maybe they get some of that from me, and acceptance.  I

don't think you have to speak Navajo.  I think if you

accept them and they know that, they'll come back.

They can always get an interpreter, they can get one of

their family members, or they can find somebody to

interpret for them.  I think they'll come back and do

business with you.  And so I don't think a prerequisite

is learning the language.  I think it's wonderful, and

I think it's a respect to them that you do, but I don't

think it's a necessity.  I think it's really an

acceptance of the people as a person, because I think

there's a lot of places they go, that they don't feel

that accepted.  You watch them in town, or some of the

places--I don't know that they feel that accepted all

the time.  That's one thing that I'm really a stickler

on, and I've really worked to try to do.  And then I

just try to be--and I think it's because of the ethics--

I've tried to be very fair with them.  I hope they've

felt that.  I've done well, and I've made money, but

I've run, I think, a very fair place.

   So many times you deal with the elder women.  I've

always tried to just think that was maybe my mother, or

somebody in my family, and my reaction has tried to be

to treat her just like I would like her to be treated

somewhere else.  That's the bottom line, I don't care

where you are.  So I hope that's come across.  I

certainly hope they've felt that.

   

   Cole:  What are some of your favorite memories of

being a trader?

   

   Foutz:  The people.  The people and the

relationships.  Some of my favorite memories:

livestock.  I love being in livestock.  I like to be

out on the Reservation and smell pi�on pine on a winter

night, and to know the isolation and the quietness of

the Reservation, the calmness of it.  I love that.

Singular experiences we could probably go into, but

just overall I'd just say just everything comes

together:  the people, the beautiful geography that

you're in, the desert here, the livestock and the mix

that we've had here, just come together to just make a

very, very wonderful, I think, experience for me.  The

arts and crafts, the family scene, my family going to

it, and the interest they have, the heritage of our

family.

   As I was younger, this didn't mean anything--I

almost shied away from it.  As I've got older, it's a

great thing to have a heritage like that, passed down.

And yet there's a responsibility, because I've tried to

teach my kids you don't use a name, you give to it.  Do

you know what I mean?  (Cole:  Uh-huh.)  Okay.  And I

can't say that about all the Foutzes, and so I've tried

to preach that one, to not use that name, but to give

back to it, to where it grows and means to another

generation what it could.  And so, yeah, it's just been

[great].  I guess I'm really appreciative of the

heritage that gave me this opportunity out here,

because it's so unique.  I don't think that if you're

not born into it that you would never come into it at

this level.  And so it was a unique thing, and to think

of our forbearers putting up with what they did out

here, and the isolation and the things that they went

through--yeah, I've gotta be proud of them, and I'm

grateful to them, to have this.

   But you look around, and boy, these people have got--

artistically they're wonderful.  You know, they're a

happy people, they're a great people.  We can return to

that one if we get a chance to.  I mean, if we ever sit

down together for another hour or two.  We'd really

better kind of pull this--yeah, I think we'd better

quit.

   

   [END OF INTERVIEW]