I chose to do this topic because it gives a little insight on what my forefathers went through prior to me being born. I am going to tell you a story that has been handed down from prior generations. It is a sad story of how the white man took something precious from the Cherokee Indians of the past. It started in the spring when an Indian boy was playing with the other children in the tribe. Some white men rode up to the homestead and frightened his mother. The mother called to him to gather his stuff, but the men did not allow the time that was necessary to do so. Instead they were going through the home and ransacking the place.
The mother and son were essentially taken “hostage” at gunpoint and made to go with the white men. They were held for a long time back at the place where the white man’s horses were kept. Soon after that his father was reunited with the family after having his guns and ammunition confiscated by the men. They were made to start walking, and the walk was very long and tiring. The boy could feel his father’s anger and frustration as his father walked among the other men. The father feared for the safety of his family. When we reached our destination we were put together in a cage. It was like a stall for cattle to be kept in. Because it was still cold in the mountains, and we were not given time to gather any possessions my mother would keep me close to her at night to keep me warm and help me to feel safe.
The days continue to pass and more and more of my people are brought here. Aunts, uncles, cousins and friends are entering daily in this form of hell that they experiencing. The young boy also heard people talking about the white men was living in their homes and farming the land while they were being held captive in this stockade type pen. Then he turned one day and looked at his father, as he talked with the other men from my tribe. The young son asked him for knowledge as to what was going...