JAY FOUTZ INTERVIEW

   

   [BEGIN SIDE 1]

   

   This is Karen Underhill with Northern Arizona

University.  We're here at Beclahbeto Trading Post,

with Jay Foutz.  It's Wednesday, August 12, [1998],

about 10:00 a.m.  [Brad Cole and Lew Steiger are also

present.]

   

   Underhill:  Jay, we'll start with where and when you

were born.

   

   Foutz:  I was born in Fruitland, New Mexico,

November 26, 1924.

   

   Underhill:  Who were your parents?

   

   Foutz:  My parents were Elmer Foutz and Ethel

Brimhall [phonetic spelling] Foutz.

   

   Underhill:  Why were they in Fruitland at the time?

   

   Foutz:  They were the original settlers in Tuba

City, and when the government bought 'em out so they

could give that part of the country to the Navajos and

Hopis, why, they moved to Fruitland.  My grandfather

Foutz and Grandmother Foutz settled in Kirtland.  And

the Brimhalls, they moved from Salt River Canyon and

Snowflake and down in that area, and they settled in

Fruitland.  So my father was raised in Kirtland, and my

mother was raised in Fruitland.

   

   Underhill:  And were they farming families?

   

   Foutz:  Well, my mother's folks were in the sheep

business and ranching business.  And my father, he was

in the trucking business.  And my first recollection of

this life is in Ganado--that was where we were living

when I was about three years old.  My father was in the

trucking business and we were living at Ganado,

Arizona, at that time.

   

   Underhill:  And what was Ganado like then?

   

   Foutz:  Ganado was two stores and a Presbyterian

mission--that was it.

   

   Underhill:  How many Anglo families were around you

then, do you remember?

   

   Foutz:  Well, there were two Foutz families and one

Lee family and one Spanish family.  Four--that was it.

They were just building a Presbyterian mission at that

time.  And my father was hauling coal from Steamboat to

Gallup, and then he was back-hauling freight for the

Presbyterian mission at that time.  Anyway, I think

they eventually named a wing of the hospital after [my

father].

   

   Underhill:  How long were you in Ganado?

   

   Foutz:  Well, we moved to Holbrook when I was five

or six years old.

   

   Unidentified man:  You went to school there, the

first grade.

   

   Foutz:  Yeah, I went to school--well, I was only

four years old, so I went to the first grade at Ganado.

I was four years old, because the teacher--my next

sister older than me, why…  Let's see,

Mrs. Holderman was the schoolteacher, and she was

teaching all the Anglo people.  It was from one to

nine.  Anyway, she needed kids, so she just asked my

mother if I could come and go to school with my sister

Eilene and help relieve the monotony, you know.  So she

spent more time with me than she did with all the other

kids.  (laughter)  And then when we moved to Ganado, I

was just old enough to start to school, so anyway I

signed up for the second grade, because I'd already had

the first grade.  They wouldn't let me go to the

[second] grade.  It was ridiculous, but anyway…  So

I had to take the first grade all over again.  So then

from Ganado we moved to Fruitland.  And then I started

school in Kirtland.  My birthday was such that when we

moved to Fruitland, why then I signed up for the second

grade there, because they wouldn't let me go to the

second grade in there.  And so my father had to go

straighten 'em out, and he put me in the second grade.

   

   Underhill:  (laughs)  And you did get out of school.

   

   Foutz:  I did.  I did go to the second grade, 'cause

I'd had that first grade two years.  And even then, I

could write and read and spell and everything, better

than any of 'em, because I'd had so much time spent

with me when I was in--well, preschool, you might say,

or kindergarten or whatever.  So that was my…  And

then we lived there all the rest of our life.

   

   Underhill:  What did you want to do when you were

older, do you remember?

   

   Foutz:  Well, I really didn't give too much thought

about it.  When I graduated from high school, I was

seventeen.  I was always a year, year-and-a-half

younger than everybody else in the class, so I really

didn't get to participate in a lot of the activities

that all the older, you know, because I was too small,

you might say.  But when I graduated from high school,

I went to California and spent about three months with

my uncle, Ernest Brimhall, in California, looking for a

job, but I couldn't find a job, so I came back.  And

then I went to work for the BIA in Shiprock for about

two weeks.  My brother-in-law was working for the BIA

irrigation, so he got me a job at the motor pool at

Shiprock.  Anyway, I worked there for maybe two weeks.

And then Kenneth Washburn, he was running Teec Nos Pos

at that time, so he stopped by and asked me if I'd come

work at Teec Nos Pos--so I did.  So I was working at

Teec Nos Pos when I went into the Navy in 1943.  Then

when I was separated from the Navy in 1945, why, I

worked there at Fruitland with my dad in the store

there at Fruitland, and I got a chance to go to work in

an oil field, so I worked in the oil field for a couple

of years.  And then I got married to my wife, Marie

Marshall Foutz, and after we were married we moved to

Gallup and worked for Tanner's Incorporated there in

Gallup.  He was running a bean warehouse there.  And my

brother-in-law was the bookkeeper there.  His name was

Skeet Woods, and my sister was Ardith Woods.  So we

moved over there and we lived with them about two weeks

'til we got an apartment of our own.  So I worked over

there for about a year-and-a-half.  My father-in-law

was a Consignee [phonetic spelling ?], Texaco Consignee

there at Farmington.  He talked me into coming back to

Farmington and going to work with him, because he

needed some help bad.  And about that time was when the

oil industry was really gettin' strong--El Paso and all

of 'em had moved in, and they were really gettin' to go

strong.  So then…  Well, I worked in the oil, when

we moved from Gallup, I went to work for him and worked

for him for about probably three years.  Then Russell,

he came down to the house that evening.  It was on a

weekend, it was Sunday afternoon, I guess.  Russell

asked me if I would come out and run Beclahbeto for

him.  And I was looking for an excuse to find another

job, let's say, because I'd worked for my father-in-law

too long.  (Underhill laughs)  So he said, "Well, can

you come out next week?"  You know, the following

Monday.  He was there Sunday, but the following Monday.

I said, "Well, I don't know whether I can just quit

that quick or not, but I'll tell Ray that I'm going to

go out and run the store, and see what he says."  Of

course he didn't want me to leave.  But I told him I

needed a change.  So we moved out to Beclahbeto.  It

took about two weeks from the time he came until…

And then I ran Beclahbeto for about two years,

probably.  And then Russell was wanting to move to

town, so he moved me over to Teec Nos Pos to work with

Loyd, my brother-in-law.  So he turned Teec Nos Pos

over to Loyd and I, and him and Helen moved to town.

And then we hired a kid by the name of George Baker to

run Beclahbeto at that time.  But it was strictly

primitive at that time.  I mean, there weren't any

roads--just a wagon trail from Shiprock to Teec Nos

Pos.  Took an hour, just exactly an hour, to drive from

Shiprock to Teec Nos Pos.

   

   Underhill:  And this was about 1953 or so, when you

_________?

   

   Foutz:  About 1954 when I moved to Teec Nos Pos.  I

ran Beclahbeto two good years before that.  Everything

was running smooth, everything was going great.

   

   Underhill:  You were at Teec Nos Pos in the early

forties.  How would you describe it in the early

forties, before you went in the Navy?

   

   Foutz:  This was after I�d got out the Navy.

   

   Underhill:  Right, that you went back.  But you

worked there for just a couple of years?

   

   Foutz:  I worked for a year-and-a-half for Kenneth,

before I went in the Navy.  Then when I got back,

Russell had already traded Kenneth out of his part of

Teec Nos Pos, because it always belonged to the family.

The family had always owned half of it.  So then

Russell traded [Gaibo?] Canyon and some land out there

for Kenneth's interest in Teec.  And then when I moved

to Teec Nos Pos after Russell moved to town, why, then

that's when Loyd and I started buying half of it,

working an interest in the store, you might say, in

Beclahbeto and Teec Nos Pos.

   

   Underhill:  What was the post like then, around

1954?

   Foutz:  Well, it was just strictly a trading--there

was no money of any kind.  I mean, it was strictly

trade.  We got paid twice a year:  in the spring was

wool and mohair, and in the fall was lambs and cattle.

And that was it, that's the only two times you ever

handled any money.  The rest of the time it was all

just the barter system.  They'd bring a basket in or a

rug in or whatever.  And if they needed something, they

pawned a little something for it.  You never saw any

money.  I mean, you might operate for a whole month and

handle thirty dollars, you know--which was a lot of

money in those days, for that ___________.

   And then later, when they started hiring a few of

the Indians to work on the railroad, why, then that's

when a little money became available.  That's when a

little money started circulating, because they'd go off

to work on the railroad in the summertime, and then

they'd come back home in the wintertime.  And then

they'd sign railroad unemployments, which at that time

was fifteen dollars every two weeks.

   

   Underhill:  And did you handle the money?

   

   Foutz:  Yeah.  Well, we were the post office and

everything there.  We had to pick the mail up in

Shiprock and haul it ourselves and everything.  And I

was a railroad representative that took the claims and

everything and mailed 'em in and all.  And really, that

was the beginning of any cash flow of any kind in this

part of the country, anyway.  There might have been

cash flow other places, but that was the only cash flow

we had.  And then after a while, they raised the

unemployment benefits from fifteen to thirty dollars

every two weeks, which was exceptionally good at that

time.  And then later they raised it to…  Well, the

last year or so that we signed for railroad

unemployment benefits, I think the checks were $120

every two weeks.  But basically that was all the cash

flow there was until the uranium started, you know.

And then the uranium industry hired a good many of 'em,

and they paid 'em every two weeks, which…  Well,

that was quite nice, you might say.  We were rollin' in

dough, you might say.  (laughter)  I mean, really,

because it'd been such…

   

   ?:  [In peril?].

   

   Foutz:  Yeah, it'd been such a trade and barter

system so long that it was good to start really

handling a few checks and handling a little money.

   

   Underhill:  And how did that improve the business

for you, to have cash?

   

   Foutz:  Well, it doubled and tripled our volume, you

know.  Teec Nos Pos became a pretty good store.  I

mean, it was doing a pretty good volume at that time.

[Beclahbeto?] was doin' good.  It took us five years to

get our part of it paid off.  And then from then on it

was really good.  I mean, it treated us pretty well,

that's all I can say.

   

   Underhill:  And when you were buying livestock and

handling the wool, can you describe a little bit about

what a typical wool season was like, and how much you

brought in?

   

   Foutz:  Wool season was…  During the livestock

reduction program, why, they forced them to reduce

their herd you know, and all that.  So a good wool and

mohair season, we'd probably buy thirty bags of mohair

and probably anywhere from sixty to a hundred bags of

wool.  That was probably as good as anybody at that

time.  Maybe further out around Kaibito and out in that

area, they might have bought more wool.  But at that

time, we were buying more wool and mohair there than

any store in this part of the country--and more lambs

than any store in the country.  We'd rebag all [the

wool] and haul it to town and store it.  If we were

lucky, we'd find a buyer for it--if we weren't, we'd

just keep it in storage 'til somebody would come along

and buy it.

   But now lambs were a different story.  There's a

market for them every…  I mean, when you went out

and bought and trailed--herded--them to Farmington and

put 'em in that railroad stockyards to load 'em on the

railroad cars, why, there were buyers there to buy 'em.

   Underhill:  And how many lambs would you typically

have when you were herding them?

   Foutz:  I was going to say just on average, 2,500

head.  And Beclahbeto on average, was about 100 maybe

150.  But we kept 'em separate until we started to

town.  And then when we started to town, we took 'em

all at once.

   

   Underhill:  And how many folks were usually involved

in your drive?

   

   Foutz:  Oh, there were always at least three

herders, and then we were checking on 'em every day,

making sure they had plenty of water, plenty of food,

plenty of whatever they needed--plenty of wood.

   

   Underhill:  And how long did it take to get to…

   

   Foutz:  Took just a week to get from Teec Nos Pos to

the top of the river there, on the south side of the

river.  Then that night, we'd move in on the river.  We

would let 'em water, and then we'd feed 'em good.  And

then late that evening we'd start across that bridge

with 'em.  We'd stop all the traffic and we'd herd 'em

across the bridge and up the lane and into the railroad

stockyards.  Because after you got 'em in the

stockyards, you couldn't do nothing with 'em.  I mean,

they had to have an overnight drink, and then we'd

weigh 'em at daylight the next morning and load 'em on

the cars.  But that was a fun time.  I mean, because

everybody was involved, and everybody liked it, you

know.

   Now, wool season, it was work.  I mean, it was hard

work.  Nobody really cared (laughter) too much for wool

season.  But lamb season was work, too, until you got

'em all put together, 'cause you had to weigh 'em one

at a time.  You'd put an old number two tub on the

scales.  I think the tub weighed three pounds, or

whatever, so you knew how much the tub weighed.  And

then you'd turn the lamb upside down in it, and weigh

it, and then you'd kick it out and brand it and turn it

loose.  It took forever to weigh lambs, you know,

because every time you turned one upside down in that

tub, why, there were always two people making sure that

you got the scales just right.  And that's the way we

wanted it, you know.  So it involved lots of work, and

sometimes…

   

   Underhill:  How many days did it take to weigh 2,500

lambs?

   

   Foutz:  Well, it took about thirty days.  We bought

lambs for about thirty days, and then we were all

through.  We started in right after the fair in

September.  We always started the first day after the

fair in Shiprock.  And then we ran from then 'til we

completed.  The fair was generally the latter part of

September.  Then we'd buy up 'til the last week in

October.  And then we'd trail 'em out.

   

   Underhill:  And what made wool season so much

harder?

   

   Foutz:  Well, you had to dump every sack, and you

had to resack it.  And then you had to…  You know, a

sack of wool is heavy.

   

   Underhill:  How much did they weigh, usually?

   

   Foutz:  About 270 pounds average, with the dirt and

grease and everything.  Mohair, it was always heavier

than wool--300 pounds or so.  So they quit using the

big seven-foot bags on account of it.  They went back

to the six-foot bags.  Makes it easier to handle.  It

was fun, we had all the time in the world--it was

just…  Well, nobody likes to break a sweat (laughs),

let�s put it that way!  (laughter)  But we enjoyed it,

or we wouldn't have stayed so long.  And it's treated

us quite well.

   

   Underhill:  And when did you learn to speak Navajo?

   

   Foutz:  I was raised close to the Indians, so I had

the basic individual words, you know.  We used to sell

a little fruit and a few watermelons and stuff in

there, along on the river, you know.  Basically, always

had enough--the basic words to where I could get by

pretty well in the store.  But as far as carrying on a

conversation, why then that was something else.  Then

it took quite a while before I could visit with them,

you know.  I still can't talk it--I can just barely get

by.

   

   Underhill:  Do you have a nickname in Navajo?

   

   Foutz:  Not really.

   

   Underhill:  None that you know of, anyway.

(laughter)

   

   Foutz:  The only nickname I ever had was this old

boy down here at Red Mesa…  When we left Teec Nos

Pos and come over here, I was the only trader on the

reservation that would buy a goat.  I'd buy every goat

that I could possibly get my hands on, because as far

as I was concerned, in the overall operation, there's

as much money for me to make dealing in goats as there

was in sheep and lambs and all, because they'd sell

goats anytime, but lambs and sheep were only a certain

time of the year.  But I could buy goats anytime, I

could buy goats all summer long or all fall long--

winter long, for that matter.  I've had a corral full

of goats in the dead of winter, where if they'd lay

down, they'd freeze to the ground, you know.  But I

could always make a little money on goats--not a whole

bunch, but just enough to keep me interested in it.

And so this old man down there at Red Mesa, he come in,

Hosteen Klizzy [phonetic spelling] you know.  (laughs)

So he called me "Hosteen Goat."  (laughs)  I was the

only one on the reservation that I know of that'd buy a

goat.  But when he passed on, why then that fun part of

it quit.

   

   Underhill:  What other customers like that stand out

in your mind from those days?

   

   Foutz:  Well, all the old-timers that really were

fun to trade with.  They're prit' near all gone,

they've all passed on.  But we've still got a lot of

old-timers here that we visit with.  And they love to

come and visit and trade with us.  I mean, they

wouldn't trade anywhere else.  But we've always treated

'em fair, and they like the way we treat 'em, and they

come back.  There's not all that many old-timers left.

I mean, look at us, we're way up in years.  And they

were old-timers when we come, so I mean, they're

gradually movin' on, and basically all we're lookin'

for is the younger generation.

   

   Underhill:  What do you think it takes to be a good

trader?  You mentioned that you were fair with your

customers.

   

   Foutz:  You have to let 'em know that you like 'em,

that you enjoy tradin' with 'em.  And you gotta let 'em

know that you're their friend.  When they have a

problem, you're the first person they come to, and you

try to help 'em through that crisis.  I mean, sometimes

it's a burden for you maybe to help 'em, 'cause you

have no idea how or when they're gonna be able to bring

it back to you, you know.  But basically, they come

because they prit' near always know, if it's serious

enough, they're gonna get it.  And that is just

building trust.  And we feel like if we've got that

type of relationship, I mean, eventually, no matter

what, they're gonna step in and put their arm around

you and hand you the fifty dollars you loaned 'em, or

the hundred dollars you loaned 'em.  It may take a lot

longer than you intended, or they intended.  We've had

people step in here that's owed us a bill for three

years, and plopped $300 down and say, "I'm sorry, but

I've been up in Salt Lake, and here it is."  So I mean,

the trust was there when they left, and they want it to

continue to be that way.

   

   Underhill:  What kinds of services did you provide

other than just trade goods and wool and lambs?

   

   Foutz:  We're the only full-service store left on

the reservation, that I know of.  We deal in

everything:  livestock and rugs and jewelry, baskets,

buckskins.  Anything they need, they can come here and

ask for it and we can probably find it for 'em.  I

mean, basically.  That's it.  It's completely different

than a convenience store.  It don't even compare to a

convenience store.  We still do credit, and we do a lot

of things that we've done ever since 1949 or 1951.  I

mean, it hasn't changed that much as far as we're

concerned.  And that's basically what I'm sayin' to

you, that we were a full-service trading post.  We were

then, and we are now.  If they need advice, they come

and ask us for it.  If they need help, they come and

ask us for it.  Maybe we can't help all the time, but a

lot of times, we can.  That's about it.  If I hadn't

have liked it, I wouldn't still be here.

   

   Underhill:  How did pawn change for you over time?

You're not able to take pawn now?

   

   Foutz:  No.  When they took that out, they done the

whole tribe an injustice.  There's very little…  I

mean, all the good pawn that we were used to handling

is gone.  There ain't no more, there isn't any more

ever.  I mean, there's a lot of good new stuff on the

market, I'll grant you that, but all the old good coral

beads and all the good belts and stuff that I would

like to own, that I would like to have, it's gone,

there's no more of it.  I mean, it's all been pawned

off, and those people weren't under any guidelines--30,

60, 90 days, whatever.  We were bonded Indian traders,

and we were obligated to do what we agreed to do, and

that was it.  But when they took it off, when they took

the pawn away from us, that was probably the biggest

injustice they ever did to the Navajo people, except

when they forced 'em to reduce all their livestock

below what they should have done.

   

   Underhill:  How has that impacted the Navajo

economy, to do away with pawn?

   

   Foutz:  I don't really think it's affected their

economy.  The fact is, they don't own it anymore.  The

only pawn they've got is some new piece of jewelry that

they'd purchased since they lost the old jewelry.  And

basically, that's all the pawn there is, is just the

new stuff.  I mean, right here in this area I'll bet

there's probably half a dozen of these old squaws that

wear red beads that they've had that are a hundred

years old, you might say.  But you can look at 'em and

tell they're a hundred years old, you know.  But that's

it.  Whereas the men and the women and all of 'em used

to wear that good jewelry when they were going to a

squaw dance or a meeting or something.  The only

jewelry you see anymore is the new stuff that they've

just purchased in the last year or two.  But as far as

impacting their economy, I don't think it's hurt 'em,

because the fact is, they have to run it to town and

pawn it, and they can pawn it for maybe ten cents on

the dollar for what they paid for it--that's it.  And

then they have to pick it up every 60, 30…  Where

before, if we pawned a good string of beads, we didn't

care if we had it for three years, as long as when wool

season came along, they paid interest on it; and then

when fall came, if they came by and paid the interest

on it; we didn't care if we had those $400 or $500

beads in there.  It didn't make a bit of difference.

   

   Underhill:  Would you loan it out to them for

ceremonies?

   

   Foutz:  Once in a while, special ones--not all of

'em, because all of 'em wouldn't want to borrow it

back.  When they wanted to use it, they'd come in and

take it out.  And then after they'd used it, they'd

bring 'em back in and pawned it to you, because they

knew it was safe in your safe.  They knew it was safe

there, and that's the only reason they left it there

year after year, because they didn't want it at home

for somebody to steal it while they were out herding

sheep.  But as long as it was in my vault, they felt

like it was plumb secure.  And it probably was, to a

certain extent.  I mean, you know, 'cause we didn't

mind keepin' it.  We were glad to have it, really.

   

   Underhill:  Were you involved in the FTC hearings?

   

   Foutz:  Yeah, we went over to that.  Just like the

circus up in a circus tent.  ______ total farce ____.

And I don't know of anybody that was over there that

won't say the same thing.  I mean, it was a complete

farce.  I mean, they had that testimony pre-empt and

nobody could say a word.  It was all pre-programmed,

the whole outfit _______.  Just like goin' to a circus

under a circus tent--that was all it amounted to, just

terrible.  I don't know of anybody that had anything

decent to say about the whole outfit.  Even our lawyer,

the Traders Association lawyer, they won't let him say

one…  They wouldn't let him say one word.  Nobody.

The only people that could say anything was the people

that had been pre-programmed on that program, and that

was it--no input of any kind, no questions of any kind--

nuthin'.  It was just like settin' there listenin' to a

tape recorder.  Total farce.  Disgrace to the human

mind, really.

   

   Underhill:  Did you think about quitting then?

   

   Foutz:  No, we didn't care anything about it.  I

mean, we could see where it was leadin', but then we

had a lot of good pawn at that time.  We had quite a

lot of good beads in there.  We had probably fifteen or

thirty strands of choice red beads.  We had probably

fifteen or twenty choice belts.  I mean, we had lots of

good jewelry and pawn.  But then of course in time it

was all redeemed, and now they don't own it, and it's

gone.

   

   Steiger:  Why don't they own it?

   

   Foutz:  'Cause they pawned it off the reservation,

and those people are under no…  I mean, they pawn it

for 30 days or 60 days or 90 days, and then if it's not

redeemed, it belongs to them.  So that's the reason.

And if it's not redeemed in that given time when they

pawn it off the reservation, now, I'm sure there's

rules and stuff to regulate the pawn industry off the

reservation--everything has rules and regulations--but,

what I'm saying is there's no give and take.  I mean,

if the pawnbroker doesn't want to have any give and

take on the tail end of that, why, then there isn't

anything anybody can do about it.  You know, I mean,

it's up to him to say what…  He's complete boss of

it after that pawn contract has expired.  So, I mean,

that's it.  Where here, if they'd come in and say,

"Don't do anything, we're gonna do this, we're gonna do

that.  Keep it for us," well, they knew we'd keep it

for 'em, 'cause they were good people, they're good

customers, we've traded with 'em every day.  So, I

mean, we weren't going to do anything to tear that

relationship apart.  It was just that simple.

   Underhill:  What other differences are there between

your trading post and a border town operation?

   

   Foutz:  Well, I really don't know that there's that

much difference.  Off the reservation, it's just more

or less either a pawn shop, a convenience store, or …

what.  I mean, a lot of 'em don't really deal in

general merchandising much.  I mean, they probably deal

in a few groceries and a few fast food items and stuff

like that, but I don't know of a full-service place

anywhere off the reservation.  Now, the Tanners, over

at Gallup--Joe Tanner and some of them over there--I

don't know whether they buy livestock or not.  They

used to, but I don't think they do anymore.  I mean,

it's strictly just pawn and miscellaneous--groceries

and stuff like that.  And pi�ons is a big thing with

'em, you know.  But they only hit every three to seven

years, so it's a long, drawn-out payday there, too.

   

   Underhill:  You mentioned the United Indian Traders

Association.  When did you become a member?

   

   Foutz:  I've always been a member, ever since I

moved out here--1951 or 1952.  First year I was out

there I paid Association dues.  See, I knew what they

were.  When I was living in Gallup, my brother-in-law

that was a bookkeeper for Tanners, Incorporated, he was

an Indian Traders Association bookkeeper also, when he

was living in Gallup.  And I knew what the Indian

Traders Association was, and they were the instigators

of the Gallup Indian Ceremonial as you know it is

today.  I mean, if it hadn't have been for them, the

ceremonial would have never started.  But it was the

Indian Traders Association, and that was strictly

started to promote the Indian arts and crafts.  And

that's basically all the Traders Association was

involved in, that's all it ever did--promoting the

Indian arts and crafts.  As far as I know, they're the

ones that started that Indian ceremonial over there--or

the basic founders of it.  I'm sure the City of Gallup

and all of 'em helped, because look at the revenue it

brought into the city then.  I mean, it wasn't near as

extensive then as it is now.  I mean, I don't know

what's wrong with it now, it should be coining the

money hand over hand.  In those days, it did coin lots

of money.  I mean, they gave away a lot of good prizes

and everything.  But they always had money in the bank,

too.  But now, I see where they're wanting Gallup to

furnish two or three million dollars to get 'em started

again.  So I don't know.  There are big lumps of money,

you know.  They lost money last year, and I can't

hardly see how that could…  I mean, there've got to

be a lot of fingers in the pot.  (laughter)  A lot of

people handling the piece of ice, I guess, I don't

know.

   

   Underhill:  Did you have a United Indian Traders

Association number for jewelry?

   

   Foutz:  I never did, 'cause jewelry wasn't our big

thing.  The old traders in Gallup, the Richardsons and

the Tolpins [phonetic spelling] and those people around

Gallup that jewelry was their main…  You know, their

main business was jewelry.  They sold the silver, the

turquoise, and everything to make it with, and then

they paid the silversmith for making it and bringing it

back.  And they would wholesale it or do whatever.  I

mean, it was quite lucrative for them, too, at that

time.  But basically that's all the Indian Traders

Association was ever involved in, was just the

promotion of arts and crafts--Navajo arts and Indian--

didn't have to be Navajo, just any Indian arts and

crafts.

   

   Underhill:  What were the annual meetings like that

you've attended?

   

   Foutz:  Well, the annual meetings is just…  They

read the bylaws and the minutes of the last meeting.

If they needed to elect new officers, they elected new

officers, and sustained the ones that were left.  It

was just like any corporation meeting.  It didn't vary

from any of that.  It was just basically the basic crew

of 'em.  Then they had a big happy hour and a big

dinner that evening, and danced and everybody had a

good time.

   

   Underhill:  Have you served as an officer of the

Association?

   

   Foutz:  I've had the opportunity, but I turned 'em

down, because I didn't want to take the time to get

involved.  I didn't have the time.  I was raising a big

family and working hard and everything.  I really

didn't want to get involved.  But I had a lot to do

with who was involved.  And it was just a corporation

meeting is all it was.  Kind of dull and time-consuming

(laughs)--nothing exciting.  All the corporate meetings

I've ever been to have been time-consuming and not too

exciting.  But anyway, that was it.

   

   Underhill:  Are there any big issues that you recall

from the Association that stand out in your mind?

   

   Foutz:  Well, not that I'm really on top of.  I've

heard of different areas where the Traders Association

went to bat for different traders and did them a

service.  But being as I don't know any of the

particulars, I wouldn't voice any opinion on that or

whatever.  There's been one or two traders that's been

picked on by the DNA, and the Traders Association went

to bat for 'em.  Anyway, the lawyer of the Association

went to bat for 'em, but I'm unaware of the particulars

or anything, so I wouldn't voice any opinion on it.

   

   Underhill:  Have you had encounters with the DNA?

   

   Foutz:  I haven�t.  We've had a clean bill of health

ever since we started.

   

   Underhill:  Great.  Have you had a lease over the

years?

   

   Foutz:  Well, we've had two leases, and we're

negotiating for another one now.  I can't foresee any

problems with that.

   

   Underhill:  How long did your leases run?

   

   Foutz:  Twenty-five years.  The last one was twenty-

five with an option for five.  And we've run the option

out, so we've got to negotiate for one now.  And we're

in the process now.

   

   Cole:  What is that process?  How do you go about

getting a lease?

   

   Foutz:  You have to get the chapter approval, which

is community input.  And then you have to go before the

tribal development, or whatever the heck--economic

development--people there in Shiprock.  They've got to

review it and everything, and then they send it to

Window Rock.  The council over there either stamps

"approved" or sends it back and wants more information

or something.  I mean, all it is, is just renewing an

old lease, so they've got all _______.  We've been here

for that long, they shouldn't have any problem with us.

   

   Underhill:  Do you know how much it costs these days

for a lease?

   

   Foutz:  It don�t cost anything with a new lease.  It

costs you $300 a year for a business license, and then

you have to pay 1_ percent on your gross sales, rent to

the tribe.

   

   Underhill:  And that goes directly to the tribe?

   

   Foutz:  That goes directly to the tribe.  The

business license in the office is BIA, so your $300

goes to them.  And then your rent goes to the tribe

itself.  But it should be just a simple operation.

That's all the legal work and everything, with all the

legal minds and everything you gotta contend with, you

never know what you…

   

   Underhill:  How long have you been waiting?

   

   Foutz:  Well, we just started, so we don't know.  We

haven't had any problem before.  If they want us here,

fine.  If they don't, we're gone.  It doesn't make a

bit of difference to us one way or the other.  Like I

say, we're gettin' old, they've treated us well, and

whatever happens, happens--that's it.

   

   Underhill:  And when you were out here in the early

years, who were your friends?  Who did you spend time

with in those rare moments when you weren't working?

   

   Foutz:  Just the kids and my family.  We wandered

the hills and always found something to do.  This is

beautiful country out here.  I mean, if you've got the

time to explore, there's no telling what you can find.

About as beautiful a spot as you can find is Twin Falls

right up there, if you want to take the time to get up

there.  It's not an easy job, but once you're there,

you want to stay.  Beautiful.  Lots of beautiful places

around here.  And the kids used to go over here in this

wash over here, where the water runs out from under

these big sand rocks over here.  The water runs out

from under there.  They used to go over there and bring

a whole tubful of polliwogs and __________.  Anyway,

it's fun ________.  But the solitude is what we liked.

I mean, nothing to bother you.  All your time was

yours.  When you got through with the day, the rest of

the time was yours, you could do anything you wanted

to.  You didn't have to obligate yourself to go help

somebody.  (laughs)  Oh, you know, unless somebody

needed you.

   

   Underhill:  And how many kids do you have?

   

   Foutz:  Seven.

   

   Underhill:  And were they born here or in town?

   

   Foutz:  They were all born in Farmington.  My oldest

son was born in Gallup.  When we were first married, we

moved to Gallup for a year-and-a-half, and he was born

over there.  But all the rest of 'em were born here in

Farmington.  My [older] kids graduated from Shiprock

High School, and the youngest ones all graduated from

Farmington High School.  My older kids, they went to

school at Shiprock.

   

   Underhill:  How were you treated by the Navajo

community?

   

   Foutz:  They loved us.  I mean, we had no problems

whatsoever.  My kids used to wander these hills.  You

didn't worry about 'em.  I mean, kids used to come to

the store and shop in wagons.  My oldest boys used to

get on the tail-end of the wagon and ride it down there

two or three miles and then walk back home.  I mean,

they weren't scared.  They wouldn't do it now,

probably, but in those days you didn't have much to

worry about.  The only thing you had to worry about was

rattlesnakes, and that was it.  And they always had a

dog with 'em that would ______ if they run across one.

They enjoyed it.  They're glad they weren't raised

anywhere else.

   

   Underhill:  What are the Navajo people like, from

your experience?

   

   Foutz:  They're very friendly and they'll help you.

I mean, they're just--basically, in their hearts

they're just the best of people there are, really.

Their attitudes and their friendliness surpass any

white community you can find anywhere.  You have a few

drinkers and troublemakers or whatever, but you have

them everywhere, it doesn't matter.  But basically

they're very, very friendly people.  And they're

willing to help.  If you ask someone to help you with

something, they're willing to.  I mean, they're just

good neighbors, really, basically.  No problem.  Of

course they've come a long ways since the time we moved

out here.  They were a lot more primitive then than

they are now.  But they're well-dressed, well-educated

and everything now, so they're completely friendly.

   

   Underhill:  And how have things changed, in your

mind, here over the fifty years almost?

   

   Foutz:  Well, the change is indescribable, really,

because it was strictly primitive when I came out here.

There was no electricity, there was nothing--no

highways, no roads of any kind, or anything--and now

it's more or less a modern civilization, you might say.

Like I said, it took a full hour to drive from Shiprock

to Teec Nos Pos--maybe longer.  And you never made a

trip to town that you didn't break a tire on a rock or

something, you know.  The roads were terrible.  There

were no bridges, you had to cross the washes.  When

they were runnin', you couldn't cross 'em.  Now, it's

just a zip.  It�s like going from the horse-and-wagon

days to the space age, you might say--it's that

drastic, really.  But they deserve all they can get, I

guess.  They need the education and they need the roads

and everything.  They've come a long way, really.

   

   Underhill:  When you went to town, how often did you

go?

   

   Foutz:  We went to town once a month.  Went in on

Saturday, and came back Sunday evening, or maybe early

Monday morning.  And that was basically just to get

supplies that we didn't normally stock or something.

We furnished our own electricity and everything.  We

all had diesel electric lights.  You run 'em all the

time, so you had to have all the lights on all the

time.  Everything was running all the time.  But it was

a good life, really was.

   

   Underhill:  Is there anything you would change if

you could?

   

   Foutz:  (laughs)  There was nothing I could change.

Like I say, I was glad when the changes came--let's put

it that way.  I was glad when they put the highway in.

I was glad when they put bridges over the washes.  I

was glad when I could drive to town in forty-five

minutes instead of two-and-a-half hours.  And I'm glad

that I didn't have to buy a new tire every time I'd go

to town.  (laughter)

   Underhill:  How did you get your supplies?  You said

you were just stocking some things that you wouldn't

normally have.

   

   Foutz:  We ordered 'em.  The salesman came by once a

week and we ordered what we needed--or every two weeks,

you might say.  And then they'd deliver 'em the

following week.

   

   Underhill:  And where were they coming from?

   

   Foutz:  They were coming from Farmington Merc.

Later the Farmington Merc sold to Charles Ilfield

[phonetic spelling] or whatever.  And then we bought

supplies from there.  And then Charles Ilfield sold to

Kimball.  Then we bought groceries from Kimball.  And

then when Kimball closed their outfit up, we went to

Associated Grocers out of Phoenix.  Then we got

groceries from them every week, or every other week,

whichever.  So, let's see, Associated Grocers quit

coming out in this area about three years ago, so now

we're getting all of our supplies from Albuquerque out

of A.G.

   So anyway, I'm all through!  (laughter)

   

   Underhill:  Are you sure?!

   

   Foutz:  Or whatever!

   

   [END SIDE 1, BEGIN SIDE 2]

   

   Underhill:  This is Karen Underhill from Northern

Arizona University, and this is Part 2 of an interview

with Jay Foutz at the Beclahbeto Trading Post, and it

is Wednesday, August 12, [1998], about 11:00 a.m.

We're going to keep you going here for a little bit.

(laughter)  We were talking about getting your grocery

supplies.  When you first started, what kinds of things

did the men want to buy?  And what kinds of things did

women want to buy?

   

   Foutz:  Basically, there were only three or four

clothing items that the women bought, and that was the

plush shirts and the broadcloth for skirts.  And then

sometimes we had the transparent velvet and stuff for

them to make their party dresses or whatever.

Basically, the clothing items were very simple, 'cause

they all wore the same thing.  All of 'em wore the same

thing--the same blouse, the same skirts--and they still

do.  And the men, as far as they're concerned, they

just wore the Levi's and denim shirts or whatever.  And

it's just been here the last few years that they've

been buying the regular polo shirts and that, tee

shirts and stuff like that.  Before they didn't wear

them, they always wore the long sleeves and the sun-

protective gear is what they wore.  And the women

always wore their bandannas or their scarves.  I've

never seen one without a scarf.  And the men always

wore a hat.  I've never seen one of 'em without a hat.

But their clothing items were very simple.  Their shoes

were all very simple.  And their hosiery was very

simple.  The food items were all just basic items,

because they didn't eat exotic foods.  All they'd eat

is fruit and the basic foodstuffs.  They eat lots of

fruit and lots of grain and lots of corn and stuff like

that.  Then all the fruit they could get in season, of

course.  They really didn't eat much fresh fruit in the

wintertime, because it was unavailable, really,

basically--outside of a few oranges and a few apples,

you know, that'd be about it.  And I can't ever

remember selling any bananas until we moved down on the

highway at Teec Nos Pos.  I mean, we never stocked

bananas.  But when we moved down there, we used to sell

two or three boxes of bananas a week.  Lots of fruit in

season, lots of corn in season, lots of vegetables in

season.  And then in the wintertime, why, they just

fell back on the basic food items--flour, sugar,

potatoes, canned tomatoes and stuff like that.

   

   Underhill:  And what was your diet like?

   

   Foutz:  Well, we'd eat lots of meat.  The Indians

ate lots of mutton, too, in those days.  We'd slaughter

three or four mutton in the morning and hang it up, and

by noon, if it was sold out, why, we'd have a lady kill

a couple for the afternoon, you know.  But they didn't

eat any beef.  The only kind of pork they'd eat was

that salt pork.  They didn't care anything about bacon

or anything like that.  They ate lots of salt pork.  We

ate basically what they ate.  Our diet was very simple.

Of course when we went to town to get supplies, why,

we'd gorge ourselves for two or three days after we got

back.  But after that, it was just basic foods.  I

can't really see much change in their diet today,

except they have more access to fruit and fresh

vegetables.  And of course they have all kinds of

different things to buy to wear.  I mean, they've got

twenty different outlets for different things to wear.

But still the old-timers wear the same principle

clothing:  the velvet blouses and the broadcloth

skirts.  I see now a lot of 'em wearing the pre-made

skirts that they bought at Wal-Mart or K-Mart or

wherever.  But the old-timers don't--they still wear

the basic clothing.

   

   Underhill:  How involved were you in the rug trade?

   

   Foutz:  We used to buy the world's rugs, because I

guess Teec Nos Pos had some of the finest weavers there

were in the country--and they still do, those that

weave.  And we used to have stacks and stacks of rugs.

I mean, Penney and Maxwell out of Farmington.  About

three or four times a year we'd have wholesale people

come by and keep us pretty well moved out, so that we

could afford to buy more, you know.  But there were

really some very fine rugs woven at Teec Nos Pos _____.

We bought lots of nice rugs here, too.  But it's the

same area, basically.

   

   Underhill:  And what are the designs like at Teec

Nos Pos?

   

   Foutz:  (chuckles)  They used lots of colors in the

Teec Nos Pos area, and lots of design in the Teec Nos

Pos area.  And they use…  Well, once in a while

you'll buy a real nice outline--you know, the zig-zag

pattern.  Once in a while, a nice y�ii bicheii or

something.  But basically, the Teec Nos Pos weavers

didn't deal in--they either wove just a Teec Nos Pos

rug or outline.  Once in a while a sand painting--not

very often, because it was taboo to most of 'em.  And a

storm pattern or two.  We never did buy many saddle

blankets.  We never did get ______ in saddle blankets,

because once you start buying saddle blankets, a

weaver, instead of devoting full time to a good rug,

they'd break off and weave a "two-bit saddle blanket,"

we called 'em.

   

   Underhill:  Not two bits any more!  (laughs)

   

   Foutz:  No, they sure are not!  But I mean, they

used to be five dollars or whatever, where they'd get

pretty good money for their good rugs.

   

   Underhill:  Who were the weavers that you remember?

   

   Foutz:  Well, there were lots of 'em.  I mean,

Slocum Claw's [phonetic spelling] whole family wove

rugs.  Daisy and Irene, and the old lady.  They had

three daughters, Slocum Claw's daughters wove beautiful

rugs.  Lots of Goats' wife.  And Capitaninelli's

[phonetic spelling] wife.  Ray Lee's wife.  Goodness!

Little Salt Water's wife.  Oh, there were lots of 'em.

I mean, there's too many to name, really.  But they all

could weave a beautiful rug, and they did a beautiful

job, and they expected to get paid for it, and they

did.

   

   Underhill:  How much would you pay for a typical

rug?

   

   Foutz:  Well, in those days, why, some of the best

rugs were probably three or four hundred dollars--but

that was lots of money in those days, when they were

used to living on a hundred dollars twice a year, you

know, for wool and mohair, and lambs in the fall.  But

sometimes it'd take 'em a full year to weave it, or a

year-and-a-half sometimes.  They were the best.  I

mean, you can say what you want to, but they were the

best rug weavers in the country.  Now, there were a few

over on the other side at Two Grey Hills, along in

there, that made that all natural colored rug that sold

good in certain areas.  But I'd pick a Teec Nos Pos

over them anytime, because I liked the color and I

liked the design.  So we did, we bought lots and lots

of rugs in those days.  In fact, there was very seldom

a day didn't go by that we didn't buy a rug of some

kind.

   

   Underhill:  You mentioned the wholesaler coming in

every once in a while.  Who would you sell to besides

the wholesaler?

   

   Foutz:  The normal people.  We very seldom had a

tourist or individual stop by.  That was when we were

up in the canyon, anyway.  Now, in later years, when we

moved down on the highway, we put up a special building

just to handle arts and crafts, where we had lots of

rugs and jewelry and everything in there.  Now, we sold

a few rugs out of there to tourists and different

people.  Now, we did do that.  But up until that time,

we never sold a rug to an individual.  I mean,

basically, it was all wholesale.  Penney-Maxwell used

to be the heaviest buyer.  They'd come out twice a

year.  Now he put a lot of his in museums around the

country--Maxwell did.  I think Penney furnished all the

money, but Maxwell did all the promoting and

distribution and all that type of thing.  And then

Russell traded a few rugs for [New Cora?] once in a

while.  Outside of that, it was basically wholesale.

The last few years we were at Teec, we did sell quite a

lot of arts and crafts out of that building, that lean-

to we put up, the extension we put on the store.  So we

did everything we could to make a dime, let's put it

that way.  (laughter)  We weren't there to sit

twiddling our thumbs!

   

   Underhill:  What are some of the humorous things

that may come to mind that happened over the years at

the trading posts?

   

   Foutz:  I don't know.  Every day was a joke

(chuckles) you might say.  We had lots of fun, let's

put it that way.  I'll tell you one that was the cutest

of all, and that's all it is.  There's an old lady we

call "Musher" over at Teec Nos Pos.  She's a big woman,

loud woman.  You could hear her when she came off the

hill, really.  Anyway, she wouldn't trade with anybody

but Uncle Loyd.  She had to get Loyd in a corner and

tell him about all of her troubles and all of her

problems, and what she came to the store for, and if it

was all right if she bought this or that.  That's fine,

we had no problem with that.  Then one day Loyd--it was

just about an hour before noon, I guess, about eleven

o'clock--his living quarters adjoined the store, so he

went back in the house to use the restroom.  She come

bustin' in the store and wanted to know where (in

Navajo), "_____________, where's Loyd?"  Well, we

didn't know.  Then Leone said, "Well, he went back in

the house."  Leone was a Navajo boy, local.  So she

didn't say a word or anything, she swung that gate open

and busted back in there.  (laughs)  She walked right

in on Uncle Loyd when he was in the restroom.  And

Bernie or nobody else could stop her!  Anyway…

(laughter)  We all got the biggest kick out of that,

except him.  It upset him pretty much.  We got a bang

out of that.

   But every once in a while, some comical thing

happened and we all got a laugh out of it.  All-in-all,

it was pretty serious business, we worked hard at it.

   

   Underhill:  How many employees did you have?

   

   Foutz:  Well, there was Loyd and I and Leone all the

time.  That's it, I guess.  Leone worked for us from

the day we started 'til the day we quit.  He wouldn't

even quit workin' for us to go work in the uranium

mine.  He was plumb satisfied with what he was doing.

And he was the best of help.  He was as good an

employee as you could ever ask for:  very trustworthy,

very efficient, and he could see ahead what he needed

to do and he'd do it.  Most Indian help, you have to

tell, quite often, what to do.  He was always right on

top of everything.  But that's the only outside help we

had--just him and I and Loyd.  Leone Redhouse was his

name.  Very, very, very efficient.

   

   Underhill:  How did you and your family participate

in the community with your neighbors?  Did you go to

squaw dances and things?

   

   Foutz:  My family never did go, but I went to them.

When we were kids growing up, we went to all the squaw

dances when I was a snot-nosed kid.  Growing up, in

high school, every time there was a squaw dance

somewhere, we'd [grab] our little old straw hats and go

hit the trail 'til we found it.  (laughter)  And we

enjoyed it!  We'd dance with 'em, we'd join the circle.

Yeah, we had a ball, we really did.  Even took our

dates on a few of 'em, when we were dating and going to

school and everything.  And I think they thoroughly

enjoyed it.  It'd get pretty dirty and dusty and

everything.  But that was part of the fun!  (laughs)

Every one that we could get to, we went to when we were

kids.  But out here, we just went to a few y�ii

bicheiis and a few of the ceremonies.  I never did get

in a circle in the squaw dance, but I've been to a lot

of 'em.  When we were kids, we'd _______.  Wasn't new

to us, we knew what it was about and everything.

   

   Underhill:  How do you think Navajo society or

culture has changed in the last fifty years?

   

   Foutz:  Well, it really hasn't.  I mean, the ones

that really are onto it, that want to know.  I mean,

the culture hasn't changed a bit.  But the younger

generation really doesn't seem to care too much about

it.  You know, they are more modernized.  I'm not

saying that they're not involved in it in some way or

another--I'm just saying that they don't care anything

about it.  I mean, it's no big thing with 'em, let's

put it that way--where it is a big thing with some of

the old-timers.  But the younger generation, they

don't…  Some of them can't even talk Navajo, let

alone know anything about the culture.  We've had grown

kids in here that can't understand Navajo, and they're

full-blooded Indians.  Their parents are educated, and

they never talk Navajo in the home or anywhere else.

So they can't talk [Navajo], they don't know it.  So

that's what the big thing now, is with the Navajo Tribe

itself, is to preserve the culture.  There's not a day

goes by that you don't--in the newspapers and news

media and all--preserve the culture, they don't want to

lose it.  There's still quite a few medicine men all

scattered around the reservation still, practice

their…  And they use 'em a lot, too--even college

graduates, they come out and have a session with the

medicine man.  It's no big thing.  It hasn't been bred

out of 'em.  They still believe what they were taught

when they were growin' up.

   Underhill:  What do you think the future of the

trading post, as it looks now, is?

   

   Foutz:  The trading post as you and I know it, as we

know it, is a thing of the past.  I mean, when we go,

this is it.  I mean, there's not another one on this

reservation--this is it.  I mean, when we go, this will

be converted to a convenience store and a fast-food

type of operation, and that's it.  There won't be

anything resembling a trading post left.  (pause)

Whatever.  We're having fun, let's put it that way.

And until we leave, we're gonna keep on doin' what we

want to do.  But when we do leave the trading post as

we know it, it's completely extinct--completely

extinct, as far as trading posts are concerned.

   

   Underhill:  Is there anything else you would like to

add that we should know?

   

   Foutz:  Not a thing that I'd go public with!

(laughter)  No, there's not a thing.  I'm just saying

that we've enjoyed it and had a lot of fun.  And that's

the reason we're still here.  If we hadn't enjoyed it,

we'd have been gone a long, long time ago.  We've made

lots of friends and they consider us as friends.

That's it.  We're proud of what we've done.  That's it!

   

   Underhill:  I'd like to thank you very much for your

time and for sharing some memories with us this

morning.  We really appreciate it.

   

   Foutz:  You're welcome.  I'm glad I didn't have to

work while I was sittin' here!  (laughter)

   

   [END OF INTERVIEW]