A Part In History A Member Of The Coeur D’Alene Tribe Finds Her Voice In A Local Historical Play

My father, Jack Iyall, passed away in early June. Before that time, North Idaho playwright Tim Rarick had been inviting my involvement in his play “The Stories of Q’Emiln” because I am Native American and the play encompasses Indian themes.

I said no again and again. Too busy. Too much company. And I was experiencing grief over my father’s death. But then he said: “Perhaps this play will help you get through this.” He won me over.

That is how I found myself in the play, a collection of stories about how Post Falls came to be. The play not only helped me with my personal grief, it also helped me begin to accept our people’s sad history. And at age 44, I discovered that I still have plenty of youth.

Breaking with the usual format of presenting local history, playwright Rarick uses an Indian creation legend to examine the coming of Catholicism to the Coeur d’Alenes in the mid-1800s. It also explores the relationship of Coeur d’Alene Tribal Chief Andrew Seltice and Frederick Post, the founder of Post Falls. While rich in tribal lore, “The Stories of Q’Emiln” is not without rousing tributes to progress and development. It features songs about the building of the dam at Post Falls, the railroad and the Mullan Road.

As a newcomer to theater, I agreed to narrate a few stories. Here was a play fresh with Indian themes, values, and reaching boldly beyond standard storytelling.

We are a cast of eight plus several children, including my daughter Maria. We started rehearsing July 11 and have rehearsed two hours almost every night since then.

One night we rehearsed a brutal scene. In a disgusting display of military force, Col. George Wright burns stores of wheat harvested by the Coeur d’Alene Tribe. Wright shoots their cattle and kills more than 400 horses. Brenda Abraham, a Coeur d’Alene tribal member, narrates this story.

Crawling into the mindset of the conqueror, especially when the victims are tribal family, was difficult for me. White settlement of this region meant a loss of a rich tribal culture.

I was tearful for three days after this rehearsal. Horses had given Indians the mobility and ability to trade. In one sense, it was a brilliant military idea. It put the tribes at a distinct disadvantage. It allowed for the military and white settlers to dominate. At this time, white society was realizing the benefits and wonders of mobility by the railroads and the building of the Mullan Road.

The horse, this majestic animal, eased travel for berry picking, deer and elk hunting and our ancestors’ trips to Celilo Falls for salmon. The killing of the horse was a blatant attempt to destroy the Salish cycle of life. I saw this as a spiritual holocaust of the Salish people. That is why I wept.

I sought the gentle assurance and the easy humor of women - old friends and Indian women who knew and loved my family. Through an amazing network, called the moccasin telegraph, word reached the right person that “Jeanne is sad.” Cliff SiJohn, a well-known Coeur d’Alene tribal member, came to Post Falls and addressed our cast.

He spoke of the horror of Wright’s senseless violence against the tribes. He reminded us this history we were acting in the play was not far off in the past, but only two generations ago. He gave us spiritual balance as we told the stories of our tribe and the new settlers to Post Falls.

Acting is hard work. At 44, my memory was shot, and I had to learn eight pages worth of lines. I’d sit in the solitude of my back yard and grab hours here and there to learn my part. Finding quiet time to concentrate on the script in a busy schedule with two rowdy kids, ages 2 and 4, was challenging.

But like a muscle, with use, memory can rebuild itself. Now the lines are in my dreams. You have learned my song, old Moses said. But that is not the reason you have come.

My family lived in upheaval. I fell behind the laundry curve. We ran out of cereal and milk. I didn’t sign on for confusion and chaos. Due to miscommunication with babysitters, and out-of-town guests, I found myself running 10 to 15 minutes late for rehearsal one week. What are a few minutes when my life from morning until night accommodates this play? But the ethics of theater required that I become more considerate of other people’s time and not keep them waiting.

Tim Rarick was also the director. He created an atmosphere of chaotic, fun inventiveness. He would ask us: “What if we do this; how about this way?” He charmingly invited participation, but forgot to tell us when he was through inventing and our darn opinion wasn’t welcome any more. He was an authoritative director. I appreciated this because it was my first play and I surrendered a great deal of trust to him. He readily accepted most suggestions about Indian themes.

Tom Cooper composed the music. His melodies penetrate the heart. But the trouble with those afflicted with talent is they think we all have talent. “Jeanne, you sing alto,” Tom said as we worked on the first song. Hmmm … OK, I don’t read music. In church I barely whisper the songs. Tim never mentioned I would have to sing. I could sing on key if Barbara Peterson, another cast member, was right next to me. But she deserted me throughout most of the play. Sure, I can bring the house down singing “Proud Mary” with Tina Turneresque dancing, but that’s only in the shower. The applause is purely in my imagination. Sometimes positive thinking will not change the fundamental basics. Some got it. Some don’t.

Unfairly assuming theater types were fussy and temperamental, I approached with caution. Visions of people shrieking, stomping off, slamming doors, pouting, and well, being theatrical, was not my idea of a good time. Our cast is a pleasant mix of talented, sane people. Wes Harris works with an incredible amount of lines and songs. Darcy Wright is a local favorite whose sparkling voice will get only better with age. Barbara Peterson delivers a solid, compassionate performance. Cheryl Ann Rossi is a fine dancer and choreographer with a lovely voice. Some tricky spiritual scenes are safely placed in the hands of Joe Buffalo, a Cherokee. Youthful D.J. Edmiston performs with ease. Brenda Abraham adds the essential spice of Indian authenticity to all her scenes.

Being in a play will not defy the aging process. But it can reawaken childlike qualities in all of us. I surprised myself one day when given a part to illustrate the return of the salmon to spawning ground. At home, while practicing, I roared: “I am salmon woman!” My two children tilted their heads to look at their mommy in a new way.

“The Stories of Q’Emiln” brought music into my life. The songs of my family are held at the drum. I know most of the songs but leave the singing to uncles and cousins with prettier voices. My voice is not strong, powerful or beautiful. But this is my voice. And these are my family songs. My uncle, Henry SiJohn, agreed to spend time with me singing. Through the play, I found my grandmother’s voice and now carry it with me. To Mr. Cooper I will always be grateful.

If you get a chance to be in a local production, do it. The mental stretching and reaching for the inner talent found in all of us is a rewarding journey. But ask first if singing, ax-throwing, dancing or log rolling is required.

Jeanne Givens is a member of the Coeur d’Alene Tribe. She writes a weekly column for the Idaho Statesman.

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: ‘The Stories of Q’Emiln’ A collection of stories about the history of Post Falls in play form.

Venue: “The Stories of Q’Emiln” will be performed at Falls Park in Post Falls Friday and Saturday at 7 p.m.

Tickets: Tickets are $8 and $10, available at Post Falls Travel and Tourism, Post Falls City Hall, G&B Select-A-Seat, and the Gallery by the Lake at the Coeur d’Alene Resort Plaza.