My father's name is Juan Blackhawk of the Mescalero. I was fortunately able to spend quite a bit of time with him,but unfortunately, I was raised by my mother's Irish family,hard drinking and violent.

The men in the family encouraged me to fight. One day, I injured my great-grandmother,and felt very bad for having done so. From that time on, my violence would occur only under strict and ruled conditions. Through sports and barroom bouncing, I shed much blood and broke many bones and faces.

In the early 80s I was killed when a compressed gas pipeline ruptured, catching shrapnel in my neck. For me, the entire world was instantly gone. I noticed there was no ground under my feet. I noticed there were no sensations affecting my skin. The weight of clothes, the temperature of the air, sweat. I noticed my body no longer felt the minor aches and complaints which are always present. Then I noticed my body was gone. The silence, and the lack of external distractions was exquisite. I saw only a thick, slow moving gray fog, slowly moving into shapes I should have, but couldn't recognize. I felt there was something behind me, the feeling you get that someone is looking at you, and when you turn around they are.

I turned, the fog turning with me, closing into a tunnel, or funnel. I moved easily along, judging from the fog-shapes rushing to get behind me. I could see sparks of light flashing beside me, a few at first, then more and more. They seemed to be dancing in swarms, spiraling as they passed. I began to slow my progress and the light sparks became fewer and fewer,until I felt I had stopped in the darkness.

I got that feeling again, that there was something intelligent above me. I looked up, and there was a very large, warm lightness. Not bright, not brilliant. And there was a feeling coming from it, at first I thought it was love, then I realized it wanted me. The light wanted me more than anything or anyone had ever wanted me before. It knew me, and everything about me, and it wanted me so very much. I wanted to be with this light that wanted me so much.

I reached out, and started toward it eagerly. Then I heard my first sound, a whisper, "No. Later." I was not able to convince myself it was not my father's voice. Instantly the fog and darkness and the light vanished, and I was in this world. I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was a paramedic's crotch as he stood over me, his pants were split and his boxers hanging out. I almost laughed.

At the hospital, I mentioned what had happened, and how I had enjoyed the peacfilness. I was put on suicide watch and given thorazine. I don't talk about these things to whites anymore.

After my body healed, I spoke with my father. He explained the tunnel and the lights are the same thing the shaman sees as he makes his way to the spirit world. The large light was called the Eagle. It is neither benevolent nor malevolent, but only wanted the spirits of those who had lived. And it wanted those spirits very much. If I had gone close to the light,my spirit would have been consumed, my conciousness destroyed. Later, I did my vision quest. One recurring event was a hawk would fly toward me, then up, changing into a raven, then back down, changing into a hawk. I thought it was a confirmation of my bloodline, Blackhawk. My father said "No, Ravenhawk".

I have known to goodness of The People, who live their life to make the lives of others easier. I have known the whites, who exist only to consume, a plague and pestilence in the land, who exist to create hate and discontent wherevere they go. My father says this is the price one pays for living among the whites. I have known true peace in the other world, and I have known what it feels like to be wanted, by the eagle, unconditionally. All others are but a faded copy at best.

So now I just bide my time, waiting for my next encounter with the Eagle.
Ravenhawk

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