CLAUDIA BLAIR INTERVIEW

   

   [BEGIN SIDE A]

   

   This is Karen Underhill with Northern Arizona

University.  We're at the Dinnebito Trading Company in

Page, Arizona.  It's Monday, February 9, 1998, about

4:00 p.m.  We're with Claudia Blair.  Brad Cole from

NAU and Lew Steiger are also present.

   

   Underhill:  Claudia, we'll begin with your

background.  When and where were you born?

   

   Blair:  I was born in Hindman, Kentucky, September

16, 1928.  My father I think was teaching in North

Carolina at the time, and it must have been the custom

in that era for the lady to come back home to mama, so

my grandfather's house had burned down, and they were

in the process of rebuilding and they were renting a

small house in Hindman at the time, and that's where I

was born.  There was no hospital in the town.  We did

have a doctor rather than a midwife, but later on that

property was bought in conjunction with the high

school, and it was just adjoining the high school

property, and they converted it into the lunch room.

That's where lunches were cooked and served.  So I

could tell the children, the kids, that I was born in

the lunch room!  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  And Claudia, what was your maiden name?

   

   Blair:  Caler, C-A-L-E-R.  Not many Calers spell it

that way, but we did.  My father was from Georgia.

   

   Underhill:  How big a town?

   

   Blair:  The town of Hindman I think, at that time,

was about 600 or 700 people.

   

   Underhill:  And how long did you stay there?

   

   Blair:  Well, from the time I was born, I wouldn't

say very long at that time.  And Daddy taught schools

at various places within the area later on, and we

moved [to] neighboring counties and such, and finally

wound up in a rural community about 4� to 5 miles from

Hindman, and that's where I grew up, say from five

years old through high school, and I came to high

school on the school bus, and my father at that time

was teaching in the high school, so we came together

(chuckles) on the school bus.

   

   Underhill:  When you were growing up, what did you

hope would happen in your life?  What kinds of options

did you think you had?

   

   Blair:  (sigh)  I don't know that I really thought

that far ahead and had any options.  I think we all

just did what everybody else did.  I certainly never

(chuckles) dreamed of coming to an Indian reservation

and a trading post.  I didn't even know there was such

a thing at that time.  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  And how did you meet Elijah, your

husband?

   

   Blair:  His sophomore year of high school, he came

and stayed in a settlement school in Hindman, and I was

already a student, a bused student, going to the same

high school, so we met in high school.

   

   Underhill:  And then he went on for military

service?

   

   Blair:  After we graduated, he went into the army.

I think he figured he would be drafted, so he beat that

and chose what he wanted to do.  So he volunteered,

went into the army, and that summer I went to Berea

College there in Kentucky, and rather than take

courses--Berea was a school that operated you worked

out most of your tuition.  Everybody at the school did

have a job with the college.  So I worked there, and

then the following fall--I went to school there for a

year, and then decided I'd change and go to a business

school.  I guess I was in a hurry, wanted to get out

quicker.  And I was almost out, but then just before I

finished that, Lige came home and we decided it was

time to get married.  He was gonna come back out here,

he told me, whether or no.  I later found out he had

been accepted, I think at the University of Ohio.  He

would have gone there, but he kind of fibbed just a bit

and said that he was gonna come back out here, and I

finally decided, well, we'd get married, and that's

what we'd do.  And I knew nothing about it, absolutely

nothing.  I didn't know what I was coming into.

   

   Underhill:  And what did you think when you first

arrived?

   

   Blair:  When I first arrived on the reservation, I

guess, it was at his brother's place on the highway

between Cortez and Shiprock, a little place called

Mancos Creek.  And it was one of the ugliest places

I've ever seen.  It's just clay hills.  There was

hardly anything growing, and I felt like crying.  They

had enclosed what had been a screened-in back porch,

but it was now enclosed and made a bedroom out there.

And when I woke up, I looked up to kind of a high

little window there, and I saw this face which--just a

part of a face.  It looked more like a monkey than a

face, really--like a human, you know.  And he was a

real character, this fellow was.  He wasn't the best-

lookin' Navajo that you'd ever meet.  It was scary.  I

thought, "Gee, what is this?!"  (chuckles)  But after

we stayed there, Lige already had a job at Toadlena,

and when we went there, it was right up near a

mountain, and it was much prettier, and there was more

people.  You know, much more satisfactory than Mancos

Creek had been.  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  When you did take your first trading

post then as a couple, what were your living conditions

like?

   

   Blair:  Well, now, we were just--he was just a

worker there.  Occasionally they would call me down to

help a little bit, but seldom at this trading post.  We

didn't stay very long there.  There was a duplex that

had been built kind of up on the hill above the trading

post which half of it they were letting a couple of

Mormon missionary boys live in, and the other half was

our apartment.  And we lived there, we came out in

July, and we left in November to go to Mexican Water.

And that was the first trading post that we actually

operated by ourselves.

   

   Underhill:  And was that 1949 that you went to

Mexican Water?

   

   Blair:  No, it would have been almost November of

1948.

   

   Underhill:  And what was Mexican Water like?

   

   Blair:  Lots of sand, for one thing.  (laughs)  It

was very isolated at the time, and the living quarters

was quite nice.  Part of it was real old, a lot of it

had been remodeled.  A huge living room.  It was really

almost like two rooms, with an archway in between, with

hardwood floors.  And then the bedrooms, they were an

older part.  We did have running water and a bathroom

in that place.  The other place, I believe we had at

Toadlena we had running water in the kitchen, but the

bathroom was not completed.  We had to go down to the

trading post quarters to the bathroom, and for showers

and such.  But I grew up in Kentucky in very rural

conditions, and we didn't have electricity until I was

fifteen, so some of the things at Mexican Water was

actually more modern than what I had been accustomed to

in my earlier life.  We had ample room.  The stove

there in the kitchen was a combination of propane and

coal, so it heated with the coal and heated the hot

water in the reservoir, and then you had the propane

burners on the other side, which was very convenient.

We had a propane-operated refrigerator.  It was very

nice--until the wind quit blowin' and the windmill quit

goin' around, and sometimes we'd run out of water.

That was very difficult.  If we knew it ahead of time,

we drew water and saved it until we could get the

repairs done.  Sometimes in the winter I even melted

snow.

   

   Underhill:  What were conditions like for the Navajo

customers?

   

   Blair:  Well, they were just their typical hogans--

most of them fairly distant from the trading post.

There were a few that lived fairly close around, but

there was very, very few pickup trucks at that time.

Most of them came horseback or in wagons.  If they came

from a great distance, they'd come and stay overnight

in our complimentary hogan by the trading post.  And

they may trade for two to three days, if they had a

great distance to go.  But there were no houses, as

such, you know, as they live in today.  They were all

hogans.

   

   Underhill:  How did you get your news of the outside

world?

   

   Blair:  We always had a radio, which at least we had

news from that, and we had magazines that we got

regularly, and we had people coming through.  There was

always salesmen and people who hauled the merchandise

out.  Occasionally, you know, even on those terribly

bad roads, there would be tourists driving through,

adventurous people.  And there were people to talk to.

And at Mexican Water also, it was only about fifteen

miles, I think, from Red Mesa, where Elijah's brother

and sister-in-law operated a trading post.  And Sundays

we could get together.  And then a little later on, the

people that operated the pumping station at Boundary

Butte, a couple from Arkansas that became very close

friends, very dear to us.  They would come down and

have dinner with us, or we'd go up and have dinner with

them in the evenings, and play canasta, and had quite a

good time with them.  It was just really fun times.

There was a missionary couple also [who] came later.

They didn't approve of our playing canasta.  (chuckles)

But they were people that you could talk to, and we got

out, actually went to town maybe once a month.

   

   Underhill:  Do you speak Navajo?

   

   Blair:  I don't really.  I can't say I really speak

Navajo.  I know words, I know some phrases, I

understand much more than I can speak--but I never

became fluent, not like Elijah.

   

   Underhill:  And do you have a nickname?

   

   Blair:  Their nicknames are not exactly nicknames.

They described you, and they did this among themselves

as well.  They usually called me their "in-law," their

"daughter-in-law."  Even little toddlers come up and

they'd hear their parents say "Shizh����d," so they

would call me the same thing.  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  How would you describe the trade

activity--what transpired between folks at the trading

post and Navajo customers--to someone who is not

terribly familiar with it?  How did it work?

   

   Blair:  Karen, now you're really getting into a

difficult and complex question, to make them understand

it.  If you haven't lived it, it's extremely hard to

understand.  When we first went to the trading post, of

course we knew from the owners before who their

customers had been, who were the ones that were

trustworthy, that you could credit, and to how much.

This was passed on to the new traders always.  And you

set limits, sometimes you might go over, but as you got

to know them, you said, "Well, you can trade 'X' number

of dollars until lamb season or wool season" or what

have you.  And of course anything extra that they

needed in between was either by pawn or by bringing in

a rug or a basket or a buckskin--sheep and goat hides,

which brought very, very little--pi�on nuts, the years

that there were a lot of them--cows and horses, an old

ewe, whatever that they had they would let go of in

between, they would bring in, in between the two main

seasons, which was wool season in the spring and lamb

season in the fall.  I don't know, does that explain?

   

   Underhill:  Uh-huh, the basics.

   

   Blair:  The basics of it.

   

   Underhill:  And what did the trader do with

livestock?  And what was the volume of livestock in a

typical year?

   

   Blair:  Well, now, I'm sure Elijah has given you all

that.  He knows statistics and numbers so much better

than I.  I don't remember things like that.  I remember

happenings, but not numbers, dates, and what have you.

But a lot of times, the owner of the trading post, we

were just working for him at that time, he had a big

truck that he'd bring out, and he would load up a

couple of cows or horses or old ewes, what have you,

and take them to a sale barn.  But at first they

trailed the sheep from the trading post to Farmington,

the closest railhead, and we hired Navajos to herd

them, and we went to resupply them with food and check

and be sure that all the sheep were there each evening.

There were a lot of them.  I don't want to give

numbers, I'm not good at that.  We had to put them in

the corrals, and sometimes it would rain terribly, and

the muck would get so deep, and sheep would get--

they're dumb--they would get down, get sick, or what

have you--they just give up and die, they don't fight

for their lives.  And one year I remember they moved

them all into my backyard, right outside our bedroom

window.  If  that wasn't music to go to sleep by!

(laughter)  And we had branded the sheep as we bought

them with paint.  We had our brand, and I was involved

in that.  Many times they'd hold a sheep while I'd hold

the branding iron dipped in a paint and stamp it.  And

I used to think, "Boy, if my old friends back in

Kentucky could see me now!"

   Underhill:  The trading post really was the center

of the community.  (Blair:  It was.)  You mentioned

happenings.  What kinds of activities took place around

the trading posts?

   

   Blair:  Activities?  Well, you know they came there,

they knew this was a meeting place for everybody.  If

they hadn't seen other Navajos for a while, they knew

they would see people they knew at the trading post.

This was kind of a social event in itself, to come to

the trading post and visit.  And you got to know each

individual that did trade with you.  Occasionally I

guess they would hold meetings near the trading post,

outside the trading post or something--before they had

the chapter houses, when they would move into those.

Lots of times there were the Navajos that lived close

by, there might be a squaw dance or their puberty

ceremony.  That would go on nearby.  What else?

   

   Cole:  Were you and Elijah invited to any of those

ceremonies or dances?

   

   Blair:  Sometimes.  Sometimes, yes.  I know one

Navajo at Aneth lived just down over the hill next to

the river, and when one of his daughters had their

puberty ceremony, they asked us to come.  We went down

in the evening and stayed for a while.  And we went to

a few squaw dances.  And of course at first they were

very eery and weird to me before I realized the

significance and what it meant to them.  There's sings

for illnesses--they didn't usually invite you to that.

That was very personal.

   

   Underhill:  What do you think the Anglo folks need

to understand about Navajo culture, based on your

experiences?

   

   Blair:  Well, I think they need to realize that they

are a different culture, and they have a right to a

different culture.  I feel that they need to respect

that culture, and not really try to change it, unless

they want to change, unless they want help.  If they

ask for help in a certain area, fine, but I don't think

it should be forced or imposed on them.  I believe all

of us, if we turn the situation around and think of

people coming in and trying to change our culture, our

religion, our ways of living, we'd resent it.  And I'm

sure they resented it, too.  I think we need to respect

all people for what they are.  You don't have to become

one of them, but you need to respect it and give them

the right to their way of living.

   

   Underhill:  How do you think--and this happened, of

course, at Dinnebito--that the Navajo-Hopi land

dispute, or Navajo relocation, impacted trade,

especially in this part of the reservation?

   

   Blair:  Well, of course I didn't live at Dinnebito.

I was gone before that.  Even before Aneth I had moved

in with the children.  So I wasn't there all the time

like Elijah was.  But he did come home, and we talked

and discussed things.  And it seemed that after the

impact of  the relocation, when they actually started

moving them to different places, he would come home

sometimes, quite depressed, because a family that he

had really liked and had good business relations with,

would be the very ones that they had moved off.  And as

this happened more and more and more, then of course

there was less business.  And as he always said, his

very best customers were moved away.  You couldn't do

the credit business that you had done before.  And it

became unfeasible, really, to stay there, as isolated

as it was, as hard as it was to get your supplies and

to really get out into the outside world.  You know, it

was a long ways from Dinnebito to Cortez.  If he had

not had his airplane, he wouldn't have been home very

much at all.  And he talked for years about whether he

should or shouldn't get out, and yet I think he felt

committed to the people, and they to him.  They wanted

him to be there.  He almost felt like he was deserting

them in many ways.  So he stayed there longer than he

really should have, from an economic point of view.

   

   Underhill:  And when did you move to Cortez with the

children?

   

   Blair:  [In] 1960 or 1961.  Vonda was born in 1955,

when she went to school, we had already started

building the house, so I did move in when the house was

finished about probably the fall of 1961, when she

started school.  Kathy had stayed with my mother and

father in town during the week, and then come down on

the weekends to be with us.  I felt like it was too

much to ask.  I thought that was too much to ask, but

then definitely with two children, I could not think

that that was right, to have them take care of two

children in school.  So we moved in then, and Jim was

just a baby.

   

   Cole:  Did you spend summers or anything out at

Dinnebito?

   

   Blair:  Not really spend summers.  There were a few

occasions that I would go down with Lige, but most of

the time he'd been there all week, and he was ready to

come home, and that's where the kids were, the kids'

friends were, where everything that was going on in

their lives [was].  So when the weekend came up, he was

ready to come home and be there.  So we didn't go down

very frequently.

   

   Underhill:  When you were there, when Kathy was

small…  First of all, I should ask you where Kathy

was born.  She's your oldest?

   

   Blair:  Kathy was the only one that was born in

Farmington.  The other two were born in Cortez.  We

were at Mexican Water, and I went in and stayed, I

guess, with--I must have stayed with the owners of the

trading post, Roscoe and Ruthie McGee.

   

   Underhill:  And what year was Kathy born?

   

   Blair:  She was born in 1951.  And I had to stay,

you know, the last three weeks or so--actually, it

didn't pan out quite as long as I thought I'd have to

stay, because she came just a little bit early.

   

   Underhill:  And she grew up, the first three or four

years, there?

   

   Blair:  Well, after she was born, we came to

Flagstaff and Elijah worked as a checker at the Navajo

Ordinance Depot for almost a year.  And we did this

because the three McGee brothers owned Mexican Water.

They did offer to sell him a part, but he knew that the

store was not really big enough to make a good living

for four people, and he would be required to be there.

He had no chance to advance any further than that.  So

he decided at that time--he had learned to speak Navajo

quite well, and he felt that he had learned how to

operate a trading post, and he said that he would go

down and work in town in Flagstaff.  And he said, "But

I won't go back on the reservation unless I can go on

as an owner.�  And he says it was seven months, I

think, that we stayed in Flagstaff.  And each month,

there would be one or two offers to go to a trading

post.  Most of them would say, "Well, you come and work

for a year, and then we'll talk about it."  And he'd

say, "No, I won't do that.  I've made this declaration

that I will not go back until I'm a part owner in a

store."  So he held out until the offer to go to Aneth,

Utah, came up.  And the fellow was so desperate--his

family lived in town in Cortez--he was so desperate to

get somebody to run the store, that he said, "Okay, I

will sell you a third of the store."  And that's when

we moved back to the trading post.

   

   Underhill:  And while you were at Mexican Water,

what was your role with the trading post?

   

   Blair:  I don't know that I had a role, per se,

Karen.  I went in and worked whenever they needed extra

help.  There is not a lot of people on a lot of days

that came to the trading post, because they did live

quite a ways away.  And it might be very slow days, and

he might not need me some days, but then when it was

busy, then I was expected to go in, which I did.  When

the main owner of the store, Roscoe McGee, who had

hired us, came out, he stayed with us while he was

making his rounds of the stores and checkin' them all

out.  And I was basically a housewife and then a part-

time worker whenever needed.  This is what was

expected.  When Roscoe offered us the job, he made it

very clear that I would work whenever needed.

   

   Underhill:  What kind of duties did you perform when

you were in the store?

   

   Blair:  I did the same thing Elijah did.  I traded

with the Indians.  They'd come in and start…  We had

these little account books, and first they might buy

some cinnamon rolls and a can of pop.  But you just

left it.  You put their name at the top of the page,

and they indicated they would be back later.  Somebody

else would come in, you'd start a new one.  And you may

have several in the same account pad, going at the same

time.  You'd leave a little space so you could keep

adding to it.  They would keep coming in and buy a few

things at a time and go back out and say they'd be back

later.  Eventually then, when they'd get ready to go

home, they would finish, and you would add up their

account and tear off the carbon and give it to them,

and put the other one in the McCaskey [phonetic

spelling] system.

   

   Underhill:  Now, what is the McCaskey system?

   

   Blair:  Well, it was just a big metal…  I don't

know how to explain it.  Didn't Elijah tell you about

McCaskey system, Karen?

   

   Underhill: No.

   

   Blair:  Well, it was a metal case that had the

leaves, which had a place for the different accounts,

across, all the way through, and then there'd be

another leaf and it would have it.  And you had it

organized like that, as alphabetically, I guess, as you

could.  You tore off the one you kept of the account

pad, and put it in their slot, then gave them a carbon

copy.

   

   Underhill:  And both men and women had credit at the

trading post?

   

   Blair:  No, usually it was just in one name.  Even

though it was a matriarchal system, most of the time it

was in the man's name, even though the women may say

they own the sheep, they did the weaving and

whatsoever.  And occasionally a weaver would come in

and she'd say, well, she wanted what they called a t���

sahdii or separate account, and you might make her a

separate account on the rug, and she would trade toward

the price of the rug.  And then when she came in, you

would settle up.  If there was more left, then you

would pay her whatever was left.

   

   Underhill:  And what were the popular items you

carried for men and for women?

   

   Blair:  Well, of course the most popular was all the

food items, which they bought.  You know, flour and

shortening and coffee and sugar and these things, in

huge quantities, and all the other food items that

they�d buy.  But then we also carried what they loved,

the Pendleton shawls and robes, whenever they could

afford it.  Just like their sheep, this was a

prestigious thing with them, their shawls and robes

meant a lot, and it was a way of high standing and

recognition to them.

   

   Underhill:  Do you remember offhand a general price

range for a Pendleton?

   

   Blair:  At that time, I really don't, Karen.  I know

that they've increased in price over the years, but I

can't remember what the price was at that time.

   

   Underhill:  Who did most of the buying?  Was it the

men or the women?

   

   Blair:  If I remember, they did it pretty much

together.  I would say the women probably bought most

of it.

   

   Underhill:  Are there any artisans, weavers, or

silversmiths who stand out in your mind that you worked

with?

   

   Blair:  We seldom bought directly from the

silversmiths; the weavers, we did.  I remember Susie

Claw at Mexican Water that wove a pretty good rug.  At

Aneth, they didn't do as much weaving, not as fine a

weaving as they did some of the other trading posts.

Elijah worked with them, and I'm sure it did improve

over the time, but he did more of it at Dinnebito, and

I was not there.  Of course we do have rugs in our home

of his favorite weavers, particularly, and I'm sure

that he mentioned Rose Dan, who really stood out in his

mind.  And we've had rugs from Rose Dan.  Marie Watson

was another excellent weaver.  But there were a lot of

them:  the Shepard family had several good weavers in

the Shepard family.

   

   Underhill:  While you were there at Mexican Water,

are there any humorous things that happened that you

recall?

   

   Blair:  Oh, I'm sure!

   

   Underhill:  Right on the spot?!  (laughs heartily)

   

   Blair:  (laughs)  Oh, Karen, I don't really want to

tell you some of them!  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  That's what makes it a good story!

(laughter)

   

   Blair:  Oh, I remember one old lady� Her husband was

an old man we called Short Hair, and he worked around

the trading post and helped us.  He made us some Navajo

moccasins one time.  Unlike most Navajos being non-

demonstrative, particularly to an Anglo, he came in the

house to try to fit me.  Mine were too little, and he

had put wet sand in them and buried them for a while to

try to stretch them.  And he came in to help me get

them on and see if they were gonna fit.  And then he

reached down, I think, and in Navajo called me his

daughter or something, kind of patted me, put his arm

around me and patted me on the shoulder, which was kind

of an unusual gesture from the Navajo.  He was always

very caring with Kathy.  The Navajos liked the

children, and they were very, very kind and kind of

watched them.  They were really on the lookout for

them.  We never had a fear of anything bad happening.

Very different today.  You wouldn't be as nonchalant

about it, but at that time there was no fear from the

Indians, none whatsoever.

   

   Underhill:  Did Kathy learn any Navajo words when

she was small?

   

   Blair:  Not when she was real little.  She didn't

learn any English words that quickly either.  I think

we left Mexican Water before she--oh, I know, before

she was talking.  And then we went to Aneth when she

was about two.  There she picked up a few words,

usually like "no good" and words like that, that she

would hear.  I guess Vonda picked up a few, too.  And

then Jim later on, when we'd go down to Dinnebito with

his dad during the summers, he learned.

   

   Underhill:  Did you feel that you were accepted by

the Navajo customers and the community?

   

   Blair:  I felt that I was accepted, as much as they

would accept you.  I think that you know that you're an

Anglo and they aren't.  They know that, and there is

definitely a difference.  But they were never unkind,

they were never unfriendly because of this.  You were

accepted as the trader's wife, but not necessarily as

one of them.  Elijah comes close, but you were

different.  We are different.  They knew it, we knew

it, but it was all right.  We didn't dislike each other

because of it.

   

   Underhill:  What characteristics do you think the

traders--at least the ones you've met--have in common?

   

   Blair:  There must have been a personality thing, or

they wouldn't have chosen to stay in an isolated place

like that and do what we did.  So there must have been

characteristics that would be similar.  And as I said,

Elijah and I grew up in very rural Kentucky.  We didn't

live in a fast social life, like people maybe do in

town.  I think the rural life anywhere, there's

similarities to our life in the country, and their

lives on the reservation.  So it was not so difficult

to accept, and I suppose that a lot of the traders came

from similar backgrounds.  I don't really know the

answer to that question.

   

   Underhill:  And you may not have ever known a bad

trader.  But what do you think it takes to be a good

trader?

   

   Blair:  Oh, I think it takes integrity, interest in

them as a people and as a culture and what they expect,

and what you can give in return.  You can't always live

according to their expectations.  If you had, you'd

have gone broke real quickly.  You had to understand

these things, and why, how it came about.  I think a

willingness to learn their language and converse,

there's always, in any culture, anywhere we've

traveled, I think if you tried to say a word or a few

words in their language, it's always accepted with

pleasure, really.  And I'm sure that the fact that we

tried, although we made a lot of mistakes and got

laughed at and what have you, that…  I do think that

just knowing them, learning all you could about them,

without trying to put them down or degrade them.  But I

do think that integrity is a big thing, in bein' a good

businessperson in any situation, really.

   

   Underhill:  Elijah talked a little about this, too,

but you mentioned expectations.  What did the Navajos

expect the trader to contribute to the community?

   

   Blair:  What he wanted, whether he expected it or

not, he did want them to give, to give a lot.  You

couldn't always do it.  We did contribute when they

were having a sing, if they came and wanted a

contribution, we always gave something from the store.

At their squaw dances, we gave things.  They really

expected this, but according to their culture, for

survival I suppose they had to give, from each other,

and particularly within their own clan.  So they would

have liked for the trader to have been the same way.

And they would maybe come in and say--if you turned

them down for credit, well--"Well, we would feed you,"

or "We would help you."  And when you hired an Indian

in the trading post, many times they didn't think of it

as if they were a hired person--they were helping you.

This is the way that they spoke of it, that they were

there helping you, even though they were helping you

for a salary, that's the way they termed it.

   Underhill:  Elijah also mentioned multiple roles,

that he interpreted letters, wrote letters.

   

   Blair:  Oh, yes.

   

   Underhill:  What kinds of things did you see over

the years that were not just a business, but beyond

that?

   

   Blair:  Well, of course at that time, there were not

many of them that read English--read anything.  They

didn't read their own language either, there was no

written Navajo language at that time.  So if a Navajo

was recruited to go work on the railroad, or if the

kids were off to school if they wrote letters to the

family, then they had to be read to the family.  And

Lige got to where he could do that.  He could see it in

English and tell them what it said in Navajo, which I'm

sure was a very big thing with them--otherwise, they

wouldn't have known what they said.  What else did you

ask me about?

   

   Underhill:  Other kinds of tasks that he performed

that were maybe above and beyond the requirements of

business?

   

   Blair:  Well, many times, you know, when somebody

would get hurt, there'd be an accident, they would come

to him for help.  He's done some major first aid with

them, and many times taken them into the hospital or

the doctor.  We didn't have a very active part, as so

many of the traders talk about, burying the dead.  I

know one of our very first experiences at Toadlena was--

I'll bet we hadn't been there, I hadn't been there, two

weeks--a Navajo girl died way back on the mountain, and

we were sent to take the store truck, go into

Farmington and buy a casket and come back and a Navajo

boy was to meet us at Two Gray Hills, and then show us

the way to this camp.  Although we didn't bury the

person, we took the casket up to where they were, and

just before we got there, we heard a shot, which we

found out they had shot her horse, and we saw this,

looked like a bonfire, which they had moved her,

knowing that she was getting very close, that they

moved her from a hogan out into a tent, which could be

burned, and they didn't have to abandon the hogan.  So

that was the fire that we saw.  And they had come down

and taken out as much of her pawn jewelry as they could

to bury with her.  And they bought more than one

Pendleton shawl, I'm not sure how much, and had her

wrapped in these.  And then when Lige had to help put

her in the casket, they had her so wrapped that she

would hardly fit in it.  It was almost like pushing her

in it.  And we took the body back down.  Then the

Mormon missionaries took over from there, took it and

buried the body.  Some of the traders did, I'm sure,

bury the dead, but Lige and I didn't have an active

part in actual burials, that I remember of.  If he did,

then he did, but I don't remember any.

     There were many times when the Indians, some of

them, were sick or had an accident or somethin', they'd

come to us for advice and for help, which we nearly

always gave.  And if they had somebody in the hospital,

then they would want to call and get information.

Well, as you know, hospitals don't usually give out

information to anybody other than family members.  And

one old fellow at Aneth came in one time, and the store

was quite busy, so Elijah had asked me to go back and

make the call to the Shiprock Hospital for him, to

inquire about his family member, and they said, "Are

you a member of the family?" and I said, "No, I'm not."

"Well, is there a member of the family that we can talk

to?"  And I asked them if they spoke Navajo, and it was

somebody that could speak Navajo, I guess.  Or they got

somebody that could.  So I handed the phone to Old

Sagney Tso, and I said, "Here, you talk."  And he

looked at me kinda funny [as if to say] "What do I do?"

So I put it up to his ear, and I said, "Say y��t���h."

And he very reluctantly did it.  (slowly, quietly)

"Y��t���h?"  You know, like, "What am I supposed to

hear from this?" you know.  And then they started

rattlin' off in Navajo, and he said, �Shoo!  Ay�o Din�

yidiits�a�!�  Which means, "Boy, it really can speak

Navajo!"  Not they, but it can really speak Navajo!

(laughter)  It was just like he didn't know there was a

live person on the other end.  He was just shocked that

he could hear Navajo on the telephone.

   

   Underhill:  How did technology like telephones,

television, automobiles, impact trading?

   

   Blair:  Oh, today the Navajo loves the telephone.

Of course most Navajos don't list their numbers,

because everybody that knows them would call, call

collect, and they can't afford it.  Back then, of

course, there were not telephones other than at a

trading post or at a school.  The school was a

government school, so this was "no-touch telephone," no

matter what the emergency, you don't use a government-

owned telephone.  So the trading post was usually it--

that was the one that they would come and…  It was

just a means that they could find out what they wanted

to know.  They didn't usually do it other than to find

out about a sick family member in a hospital or

something.  They didn't…  Well, they knew nobody

else to call in the town, knew nobody that had

telephones, so they didn't bother you much at first

with that.  And television, of course they didn't have

television back then.  We didn't, for a while.  So it

didn't play a big part.  And of course computers today

are just mind boggling.  It simplifies so much.  And

it's amazing--has always been amazing to us--how

quickly a Navajo can pick up simple use of a computer

or cash register, the adding machines, calculators,

whatever.  It just seemed that it was almost a natural,

that they could pick it up so easily.  If you notice,

there's lots of Navajo checkers in the border towns

that just zip right through, and have no problem with

it.  To this day, I have to look at every number and

everything on a cash register and a calculator.  I

don't do it by memory, I do it by look and see.

   Underhill:  You've mentioned the missionary folks a

couple of times.  How would a trader differ from a

missionary or maybe a government employee, teacher,

that kind of thing?

   

   Blair:  Oh, their aims and goals were entirely

different.  The missionaries did do some of the things

for them--some of the same things.  They would

sometimes, if there was a missionary around, they might

take them into town to a doctor or a hospital.  And of

course a lot of the missionaries did take over burying

them.  If they were able, they would have read the

letters.  Sometimes the missionary, they'd take a

letter to a missionary, and he couldn't read and

interpret it, so then he would bring them to Elijah to

do it, although he was trying very hard to learn

Navajo, and one of them in particular trying to

translate the Bible into Navajo.  Learning it from

written words, he would be many times critical, maybe,

of the way Elijah would say something.  However, when

it came right down to the nitty-gritty and you had to

interpret it, then he had to have Lige do it.  This

particular missionary, I can remember once after I was

in Cortez and he was also living just outside of

Cortez, and he'd worked years and years and years with

other people doing this translation, and he called me

and he was just so elated, he had finally translated it

into Navajo.  And I said, "Well, that's good, I'm glad

you have.  But who is going be able to read it?"

Because there were not a great number of Navajo people

that could read Navajo.  They went to school, they

learned to read English.  They are, more and more now,

are learning to read Navajo.  But at that time, you

know, they didn't--not many of them.  And his answer to

me, which I still haven't quite figured out, he said,

"Well, Claudia, you know there's always gonna be some

of those old people that don't understand English."

Well, that's true, but how that meant that they would

read the Bible, I don't know.  Maybe he thought maybe

perhaps that somebody in the family that could read

Navajo, could read it to them.  That's the only

connection that I could make sense out of.

   

   Underhill:  Well, with United Indian Traders

Association, did you attend those meetings on a regular

basis?

   

   Blair:  I only attended the annual meeting, or

actually I attended the banquet, dinner-dance, what

have you.  I guess I did sit in on a few of the general

meetings at that time, but basically I didn't attend

the meetings other than the annual one, which was kind

of a party thing.

   

   Underhill:  How would you describe the group?  Were

they fairly fun-loving and outgoing at those annual

meetings?

   

   Blair: A lot of them were.  It was mixed, some of

them were teetotalers and really felt everybody should

be . . . . didn�t like that we might have a before

dinner cocktail. A lot of them tried to rule it out.

They were not as exuberant maybe as some of us.  It was

mixed.  It was always a fun time.  We had door prizes.

Generally, it was a pretty congenial group, I would

think.

   

   Underhill: Were there families that you were

particularly close to that were members of the

Association?

   

   Blair: Well, yes.  I�m sure there were.  There would

be, besides Elijah�s brothers and their families and

the families that they married into and that we worked

for--it became almost like a clan. (laughs)    The

McGees and the Bloomfields and, of course, Bruce

Burnham, the kid that worked for us off and on several

times and became like a family member, and his

[Elijah�s] nephew Hank did the same thing.  But we knew

most of them, always had a good time with Troy and Edie

Kennedy.  They had the trading post at that time at Red

Rock.  They were a fun-loving couple.  There was quite

a few that we did mix well with.

   Underhill: Did you get to see the other families

that weren�t directly related to you much outside of

the annual meeting, or was it …

   Blair: Not too much, no.  They were all busy at the

trading post and this was a full-time job.  So they

were all so far apart that that was about the only time

of year that we all got together.

   

   [END SIDE A, BEGIN SIDE B]

   Underhill:  This is Tape 2 of an interview with

Claudia Blair at the Dinnebito Trading Company, Page,

Arizona, Monday, February 9, 1998, and it is now

5:10 p.m.  This is Karen Underhill.  Lew Steiger is on

camera, and Brad Cole from NAU is with us as well.

     So Brad was just asking during the break about

other properties that you have had over the years,

including Kayenta.

   Cole: Kayenta and Wetherill Inn.

   

   Blair:  Yes.  His brother Brad had been at Red Mesa

for a long time, and was in somewhat the same

situation, I think, that we felt we would have been at

Mexican Water.  He didn't have enough interest to

really provide what he wanted and needed for his

family.  And he got out of Red Mesa then, sold out his

part to his partner, which was Roscoe McGee, and for

quite a long time, then, Brad was just looking for a

store to buy that he thought would be a good one.  And

he hadn't found what he wanted, or hadn't made a

decision� But anyway, he had many wonderful ideas, but

he did an awful lot of talkin' and didn't just go out

and say, "Okay, I'm gonna do it!"  Lige and I were

different in that we would sit down and talk over

something that we thought we might do, incorporating

the trading post, or buy, or what have you, and say,

"Okay, the pros and the cons…"  We'd let one balance

the other and come up, "Well, is it or is it not a good

deal for us?"  And then if Lige bought a lemon, he made

lemonade.  I mean, whatever it was, he went into it

with the intention of making it work.  Brad, although

he was older than Lige, he seemed to be maybe a little

fearful of whether he could make it work or not,

although he could.  He had no difficulty in it, he was

a good trader.  But he hadn't found a trading post to

buy, and this Reuben Heflin that owned the Kayenta

Trading Post, and Wetherill Inn at the time, wanted to

sell out.  And he came to Lige first, and he knew Lige

better than he did Brad, I guess.  And Elijah thought

this would be really good for Brad, and he really

wanted to get Brad back into his profession, what he

had always done.  He thought it would be good for him,

so he talked him into it.  He said, "This is really a

good deal."  It did require a lot of money.  It was an

expensive purchase.  I think that Reuben felt like that

he might be better off if he had the two brothers in,

rather than just Brad.  And they decided then to go in

and buy it together, and they bought that one, fifty-

fifty, really.  But we already had more than we could

handle--or Lige did--and Brad and Carolyn moved out and

lived there.  In fact, that's where they just about

raised their children.  Now, she did have the children

when she was still at Red Mesa--or most of them--and

she taught the older ones the Calvert Course--she was a

teacher--for the first few years.  And then of course

when they went to Kayenta, then they could go to school

there, they had a public school, not like some of the

other places.  At Aneth it was just the Indian boarding

school, and our kids couldn't have gone, they were not

allowed.  So she was able to put her kids in school at

Kayenta, and they went to school there.  I think Hank

graduated from Farmington, but then the others were at

Kayenta.  And Carolyn taught at Kayenta for a long time

before she gave up teaching and came into the trading

post full-time.  And that was a big operation and a

very successful operation.

   Underhill:  When did you sell that?

   Blair:  Hm.  Must have been ten or twelve years ago.

As I said, I'm not good on dates and times, Karen.  I

don't now always remember that.  It was a very

lucrative business.

   

   Cole:  So was Wetherill Inn and Kayenta the same?

Were they two different places?

   

   Blair:  Well, Wetherill Inn was just up on the hill

there in Kayenta, and the trading post is right down

underneath the hill.  As far as I know, they've always

been owned by the same owners.  When the La Fonts

bought us out, they would loved to have just bought the

Wetherill Inn, but one of the requirements to get the

Wetherill Inn, Lige said, "No, you have to buy the

trading post, too."  But it's been very good for all of

us, very good.

   

   Underhill:  How would you say that trading has

changed over time, from your perspective, in the last

fifty years?

   Blair:  Well, of course as the trading post evolved

to what it is today, many of the people moving off the

reservation, the children not taking an interest in the

livestock that meant so much to their parents and

grandparents.  The livestock has decreased so

dynamically, that they can't be self-sufficient as much

as they used to be.  Of course today, everything in

most places is cash and carry.  Most of it is

convenience stores.  There's a few that still--very

few--but there's a few that still issue a little credit

and buy whatever they have to sell.  In fact, Lige just

said he went into Van's Trading Post in Tuba City the

other day--just last week, I believe--and he said they

have an enormous amount of Navajo rugs, and they're

still taking pawn, which they must have just ignored

the regulations.  They couldn't do it like it was

required of us, it was just impossible, and made no

sense whatsoever.

   

   Underhill:  You mentioned the evolution, but can you

describe maybe a little more about how the trading post

had changed from kind of the bull pen sort of

operation?

   

   Blair:  Sure, some of us--a lot of us, in fact, and

some didn't--change from the bull pens.  A few of them

stayed just like they were, they didn't progress.  But

as the kids went off to school, they came back, they

had things they wanted that they had seen, and

everybody else had.  They had more demands.  They

taught their parents to want more.  As the demands of

the Navajo increased (tape goes dead for a second) so

whatever they wanted, if we didn't have it, then the

next order, we tried to include it, order whatever

their needs and demands were.  We broadened the scope

of what we sold, I guess particularly in the clothing

line.  It used to be we didn't sell anything except

yard goods and a few shoes and the hats and the blue

jeans.  And they made their dresses.  As they began to

wear jeans like we do, and more modern blouses and

such, you know, we increased the dry goods and such as

that--whatever they wanted.  Whatever they wanted.  We

didn't start a car dealership, something like that, on

the reservation, but anything within reason that they

wanted, we tried to carry for them.  Of course we went,

then, from the bull pen to the self-service store with

the gondolas and the shopping carts.  We knew this was

what they were seein' in the border towns, when they

went to a supermarket, so we tried to do whatever they

really wanted, what was better for them.

   

   Underhill:  And what is a store like today?

   

   Blair:  Well, most of them have gone, you know, from

even the supermarket, they've got it back down to the

cash and carry Thriftway convenience store.  There's a

few of them, the Foutzes in Shiprock have the shopping

carts and gondolas and a big, big space with lots of

things for them to choose from.  I suppose at Van's,

although I wasn't with Elijah, I suppose it is the

same.  And Window Rock.  Of course, they have now, you

know, like in Kayenta and Window Rock, they have a

Basha's store or a big supermarket as well.  And when

you have a chain supermarket that comes in and buys in

gross, you know, carloads of things that then they can

distribute to different stores, then they can buy so

much cheaper than the individual.  And I think the same

thing has happened to the individual grocer in the

towns, too.  You don't find many of them, they're all

chain supermarkets.  And it became very hard to

compete.  Of course when Wal-Mart came in, and with the

prices that they can sell at, then it was no wonder

that the Navajo thought that we were cheating them, if

they could buy what you could at Wal-Mart, and then go

to your store and see practically the same thing for

nearly double the price.  And they couldn't understand

that, they didn't realize that the other was bought in

such mass that they could get it so much cheaper than

we could do it.  So it became very hard to compete.

After the roads came in and more and more had--

everybody, nearly, had cars and pickups [for]

transportation--it was very hard to compete with the

towns.

   

   Underhill:  How do you think Navajo culture has

changed?  And you've touched on just a little.

   

   Blair:  Well, it definitely is changing, I think as

it must.  We find kids here in Page that either cannot

or say they cannot speak Navajo.  To me, talking to

this younger generation of Navajos, locally, if you

weren't lookin' at them and knew that they were a

Navajo, you wouldn't know any difference from their

Anglo contemporaries.  And I think as this becomes more

and more so, it's going to change their culture.  It

already has changed.  I fear that eventually that they

will not, these young people will not remember the

stories, the ceremonies, the songs.  They won't

remember anything about their culture.  You take

Roberta, downstairs, she's learned to speak some Navajo

since she came here.  She lived in Kayenta, went into

the Kayenta schools.  Her mother worked for us at

Kayenta, and I think they spoke more English at home

than they did Navajo.  And when she started workin' for

us down here, and of course the Navajo would come up to

her and see she's a Navajo and try to talk to her, and

she'd look at Lige, "Help me!  What did they say?"  And

he has tried to teach Roberta to speak Navajo.

(chuckles)

   

   Underhill:  Full circle!

   

   Blair:  So it's sad, in a way, that they eventually

may not even remember their culture.  But then I think

that's true in all people.  We've told our children and

our grandchildren about our life in rural Appalachian

Kentucky, but now when our grandchildren have children,

how far is that going down?  When will that work itself

out, too, where they won't know about this kind of

life?  So I don't think this is so unusual.  And as you

say, your Indian people at NAU, like [Terry] Janis--

what's his name?  If he didn't tell you he was a Sioux,

you wouldn't know, I don't think.  They are mixing.  We

have quite a few mixed marriages here.  Downstairs, our

accountant is married to a Navajo girl.  They have a

very nice family, they work it out very well.  A white

girl that used to work for us in the store when we

first opened up is married to a Navajo.  So it's

working both ways more and more, and the kids all feel

pretty much the same--particularly the ones that do

speak English exclusively.  They don't feel any

different from the Anglo.  And I think eventually it's

just going to wash out.

   

   Underhill:  What have you learned from your

association with the Navajo over the years?

   

   Blair:  I hope I have learned a lot of patience and

tolerance, because they are definitely a patient and

tolerant people.  I don't care what kind of mistake you

make, hardly, Navajos won't correct you, they don't

tell you about it, they don't criticize.  They've

always been very kind, very tolerant, and very

accepting.  Something's different?  So what?, then it's

different, and they don't make a big deal out of it.  I

hope that I have at least learned that.  And of course

it's been quite enlightening to me to learn, I think,

as much as we have, about another culture.

   What more do you want?

   

   Underhill:  That's fine.  What do you think you've

taught…

   

   Blair:  I don't think I've really taught much of

anything, Karen.  Let's skip that one.  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  What are you most proud of, of your

years here in the Southwest?

   

   Blair:  Of what am I proud?  I guess first I'm proud

of my family.  (chuckles)  Very proud of my family.  I

think that Lige and I have managed and invested and

done exceptionally well looking out for our future and

probably our children's future.  I think that's

commendable.  I think we've probably been as giving and

benevolent as we needed to be with the other people,

without going really overboard in doing so.  I guess I

was a little bit proud, too, that the Navajo people

must have learned that I didn't look at them so

differently, I was always glad to go in and talk with

them if I could--particularly the ones that could speak

English and talk to me.  Several of them have mentioned

in the past, "You're different.  The other traders'

wives wouldn't come in the store.  They wouldn't come

in and talk to us."  Now, my sisters-in-law, or Lige's

sisters-in-law, did, they had a very active part, very

active.  But some of the traders' wives wanted no part

of it, and they wouldn't interact.  Edie Kennedy was

another one that was very, very involved.  But a lot of

the women didn't, and sometimes you'd go into a trading

post where the previous trader's wife hadn't taken a

part, hadn't been friendly, hadn't talked to them, and

just excluded herself from them.  And they would look

at me and think, "Boy, you're really different."  And

I'm glad.  I am glad that they could see me as bein'

different in that way.

   

   Underhill:  So why did you and Elijah stay in the

business in the Southwest and not go back to Kentucky?

   

   Blair:  Well, certainly we felt that there was more

opportunity, it was more lucrative here than it would

have been for us back there.  And we learned to love

the wide open spaces, we learned to like the people,

and it was just a way of life that appealed to us.  It

grew on us, as time went on we became more and more

accepting of it.  I don't think we felt we were missing

out on anything in particular.  So a lot of the people

back there would say, "Well…"  They thought we were

gonna come out and make our potful of money and then

come home.  And they'd say, "Well, when are you going

to come back to Kentucky to live?"  We didn't intend

to.  "You mean you're gonna live out there?!"  Well, we

had been living out there, and intended to stay.  They

couldn't understand why we wouldn't want to come back

to Kentucky.  And there's lots of them back there still

yet, that have gone away, and then came back home.  One

of my mother's cousins, one time talking to me when we

were back visiting, and she said, "Well, surely to

goodness, Claude and Alva will come back home to die."

(suppressed laughter)  That was just the way they kinda

looked at it.  But we will die at home, but home is

here.  After all, I was nineteen when I left, and I'm

sixty-nine.  So this has been my life.

   

   Underhill:  Is there anything you would change?

   

   Blair:  I don't think so.  I really don't.  I've

been happy, content.  I won't say that Elijah and I

have never disagreed.  I mean, that would be amazing,

wouldn't it?  (laughter)  But we've disagreed and

learned to disagree without having any major clashes, I

guess, so I think we've both been very happy.  We feel

that we've been successful and it's been good for us,

and we hope we've been good for it.

   

   Underhill:  Is there anything else you'd like to

add?

   

   Blair:  Right off my head, unless you've got more

questions, Karen, I don't think that well.

   

   Underhill:  You don�t want to read a statement to

us?

   

   Blair:  I didn't have any prepared statement.  This

is pretty much it.  As I say, Elijah, I think as long

as he can maneuver and walk about on his own, this is

where he is happiest.  And as I say, this is where he

goes to get his perks, and then he comes home and I can

stand him for a while longer.  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  Well, on behalf of the United Indian

Traders Association Project, I thank you for your time

and for sharing some of your memories with us.

   

   Blair:  Well, thank you for listening.

   [END OF INTERVIEW]