Thursday April 28, 2022; 7:37 AM EDT
- A boy was born the year the Dalles Dam swallowed Celilo Falls on the Columbia. For 10,000 years the People had gathered there every spring; they came from thousands of miles north and south, trading furs, beads and other things for dried salmon. But no more. The falls had fed the People for 10,000 years, but it only took one day for the Dam to swallow the falls.#
- Later, a little man went with his father high up the Wind River. It was Spring. They crawled on their bellies the last few feet and peeked over the edge into a canyon where the Sun did not go. Mighty Salmon People swam below. The Spring Chinook had returned to the gravel homes of their birth and they danced together in the pool of cold clear water. The buck turned sideways, flashing his sides, digging a new home and laying his seed in the gravel. The hen followed gently laying her eggs, and the buck covered them up with his powerful tail. Below them in the soft shallow waters of the tail out, the Salmon People that were finished digging homes for their little ones, were beginning to rot even as their tails still stroked the water they loved. The little man was hooked for life.#
- Later, a young man went with his grandfather to the John Day Dam. It was Summer. Grandfather worked the dam and taught the boy how to hook Salmon People on the rip rap below the dam. They sat in the counting station, watching the mighty ones on their long migration upriver, listening to the clicker as each one was counted, a measure of their slow death over time. At first, the Dams were simply concrete barriers. Realizing their mistake, the planners drew up plans and there was more work to be done building the Fish Ladders. Still, grandfather knew his work killed the very thing he loved. Fish ladders would only slow the slow death. But he needed the work in order to live.#
- Later, a man- now a father himself- walked the Wilson River with fly rod in hand. It was Fall. He was hunting Steelhead People. They followed the Salmon People, and ate any eggs that were loosed from their gravel homes. He knew how to trick the Steelheads with a hook that looked like a Salmon egg. The water had been high and now it was low. The banks were full of rotting Salmon People. Thousands of them. It reeked of rotting flesh. Otherwise washed barren by the floods, the river was thankful for the rotting Salmon People. They were food for the trees that would grow and protect the banks from the floods, and protect the insects that would grow in their shade and feed the little Salmon People next spring.#
- Much later, an old man walked into the grocery store with his Granddaughter. It was Winter. The lights were powered by the dam. The refrigerator where the Salmon People were kept on ice was powered by the dam. He looked at the fish that were raised in a pen, caged in the Ocean. They no longer fed the river, they no longer roamed wild in the Ocean. They were now part of the machine. He looked at the other fish, the ones with a Symbol that told their story- how they were raised in a sustainable fishery way up north, in Alaska. He looked at the price, frowned, and traded paper for the fish with the Sustainable Symbol. Although less of them fed the rivers, at least they still roamed free in the Ocean. It was better than the alternative.#
- A tear filled his eye. Granddaughter asked what was wrong? The Salmon People are leaving us, he said. We will eat this one, and celebrate its life. We will deny the greedy ones that raise the Salmon People in pens. We will celebrate the People that sustain the fishery up North. We will use our paper to change the Circle of Life for the better. #
- Granddaughter asked, why do we eat them? Because we love them and they are part of us, he said. What will we do if all the Salmon People leave us, she asked? We will follow them, he said.#
Thursday April 28, 2022; 7:37 AM EDT
- A boy was born the year the Dalles Dam swallowed Celilo Falls on the Columbia. For 10,000 years the People had gathered there every spring; they came from thousands of miles north and south, trading furs, beads and other things for dried salmon. But no more. The falls had fed the People for 10,000 years, but it only took one day for the Dam to swallow the falls.#
- Later, a little man went with his father high up the Wind River. It was Spring. They crawled on their bellies the last few feet and peeked over the edge into a canyon where the Sun did not go. Mighty Salmon People swam below. The Spring Chinook had returned to the gravel homes of their birth and they danced together in the pool of cold clear water. The buck turned sideways, flashing his sides, digging a new home and laying his seed in the gravel. The hen followed gently laying her eggs, and the buck covered them up with his powerful tail. Below them in the soft shallow waters of the tail out, the Salmon People that were finished digging homes for their little ones, were beginning to rot even as their tails still stroked the water they loved. The little man was hooked for life.#
- Later, a young man went with his grandfather to the John Day Dam. It was Summer. Grandfather worked the dam and taught the boy how to hook Salmon People on the rip rap below the dam. They sat in the counting station, watching the mighty ones on their long migration upriver, listening to the clicker as each one was counted, a measure of their slow death over time. At first, the Dams were simply concrete barriers. Realizing their mistake, the planners drew up plans and there was more work to be done building the Fish Ladders. Still, grandfather knew his work killed the very thing he loved. Fish ladders would only slow the slow death. But he needed the work in order to live.#
- Later, a man- now a father himself- walked the Wilson River with fly rod in hand. It was Fall. He was hunting Steelhead People. They followed the Salmon People, and ate any eggs that were loosed from their gravel homes. He knew how to trick the Steelheads with a hook that looked like a Salmon egg. The water had been high and now it was low. The banks were full of rotting Salmon People. Thousands of them. It reeked of rotting flesh. Otherwise washed barren by the floods, the river was thankful for the rotting Salmon People. They were food for the trees that would grow and protect the banks from the floods, and protect the insects that would grow in their shade and feed the little Salmon People next spring.#
- Much later, an old man walked into the grocery store with his Granddaughter. It was Winter. The lights were powered by the dam. The refrigerator where the Salmon People were kept on ice was powered by the dam. He looked at the fish that were raised in a pen, caged in the Ocean. They no longer fed the river, they no longer roamed wild in the Ocean. They were now part of the machine. He looked at the other fish, the ones with a Symbol that told their story- how they were raised in a sustainable fishery way up north, in Alaska. He looked at the price, frowned, and traded paper for the fish with the Sustainable Symbol. Although less of them fed the rivers, at least they still roamed free in the Ocean. It was better than the alternative.#
- A tear filled his eye. Granddaughter asked what was wrong? The Salmon People are leaving us, he said. We will eat this one, and celebrate its life. We will deny the greedy ones that raise the Salmon People in pens. We will celebrate the People that sustain the fishery up North. We will use our paper to change the Circle of Life for the better. #
- Granddaughter asked, why do we eat them? Because we love them and they are part of us, he said. What will we do if all the Salmon People leave us, she asked? We will follow them, he said.#