the heartbeat is gone

Sometimes there is a person who is the center of something. Sometimes, very rarely, there is a person who is the center of everything. The heartbeat of the reservation, the center of everything is gone. He was a loving son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, friend, educator, spokesman, cultural leader and he was the Eagle Drum. He was taken like lightening from this earth and has gone on to a better life, but I don't know how anything can go on without him. He was met by his son "Catfish", his folks and all those whose music he provided at their passing. Nothing went on without John-ceremonies, Christmas programs, ball games, fasts, naming ceremonies, school days, and sweats. He brought the youth to the drum-his sons and many more learned the songs from him. In all the years I knew him he always had time for a hello and a hand shake, a kind word or a big joke. THe women loved him, but he worshiped his Alta, the love of his life. She and the drum came first. I've seen John sad, disappointed, heartbroken by the loss of friends (Lonnie Hoffman was a tough one) devastated by the loss of a son, but I've never seen John mean, unkind, crude or without the spirit of a warrior, a survivor. Perhaps that is why it is so unbelievable that he is no longer with us. I just don't know how the Arapahoe people, the reservation can go on without him, his songs, his spirit and his hearbteat. The beat of the drum was the beat of the reservation-who will sing. Only the wailers.