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Camping and Canoeing Chautauqua Lake, New York, 1910
Fun Fact: The lake's name has various meanings based on a variety of translations of the original native words of the Seneca Indian tribe. One translation means Bag Tied in the Middle, referring to the narrow portion between shore lines halfway down the lake. Other translations include Place Where Fish are Taken as well as Place of Easy Death
Red Jacket, Sagoyewatha, or Keeper Awake - A Seneca War Chief, c. 1828
Painted By Charles Bird King (1785-1862)
Red Jacket (1750-1830) was one of the greatest Native American orators
Heritage prezi project go away nobody likes you. I honestly wanna say "I'm part polish jew, native american, dutch, and irish. My 4th great uncle was part of the spindletop oil boom. Okay so um...bye."
SENECA INDIAN BELT WITH BORDER OF BLUE (NUMBERS 15:38)
SENECA DRESS WITH BORDER OF BLUE (NUMBERS 15:38)
SENECA DRESS WITH BORDER OF BLUE (NUMBERS 15:38)
Drew Townson with The Derangers, "Tears of The Seneca" 1992.
Hundreds of years ago the Seneca Indian Nation, part of the great Iroquois "Long House" League, lived along the verdant shores of The Finger Lakes of Western New York State. The lakes were sacred to the Seneca. They believed that The Great Spirit had put his hand down upon the Earth and the lakes were the impressions left by his fingers. They fought for years to protect the land from invading Europeans. After years of bloody conflict vs. whites and other native tribes, the Seneca finally conceded their lands to white settlers and signed a peace treaty.
One day, in about 1990, I was sitting on the edge of Canandaigua Lake - the tribe's home and most sacred lake - and my thoughts turned to the Seneca, and I felt a sadness creep in to my heart. I started resonating the echoes of the past. My mind went back in time and I pictured them paddling their canoes on the early morning mist there on Canandaigua, and burning their home-fires on the shore. I had learned in school that The Seneca were once among the mightiest Indian tribes of all. It is sad how far they fell.
It occurred to me that, when you look at a map of the Finger Lakes, those thin blue strips of water look a lot like tears. And I wondered if the tears of the Seneca might still be in the lake.
Days later, this instrumental was born. It's one of the saddest and most spiritual pieces I've written. The guitar weeps, and the woman's voice calls, echoing through the surrounding hills. Please listen to it with these thoughts in mind, and dream of the noble Seneca.
